often danced to his music, said:-'When he went to his rest at night, it's then he'd make the songs in the turn of a hand, and you would wonder in the morning where he got them.' And a

t for that?' An old woman, who is more orthodox, says:-'I often used to see him when I was a little child, in my father's house at Corker. He'd often come in there, and here to Coole House he used

and a half away. It was a warm, hazy day; and as I walked along the flat, deserted road that Raftery had often walked, I could see few landmarks-only a few more grey rocks, or a few more stunted hazel bushes in one stone-walled field than in another. At last I came to a thatched cottage; and when I saw an old man sitting outside it, with hat and coat of the old fashion, I felt sure it was he who had been with Raftery at the last. He was ready to talk about him, and told me how he had come there to die. 'I was a young chap at that time. It must have been in the year 1835, for my father died in '36, and I think it was a year before him that Raftery died. What did he die of? Of weakness. He had been bet up in Galway with some fit of sickness he

and annoyed him one time; and the carpenter had a touch of the poet too, and was a great singer, and he came out and beat him, and broke his fiddle; and I remember when he was dying, the priest bringing in the carpenter, and making them forgive one another, and shake hands; and the carpenter said: "If two brothers were to have a f

ssing on them that die at Christmas. It was at night he was buried, for Christmas Day no work could be done, but my father and a few others made a little gathering to pay for a coffin, and it was made by a man in the village on St. Stephen's Day; and then he was brought here, and the people from the villages followed him, for they all had a wish for Raftery. But night was coming on when they got here; and in digging the grave there was a big stone in it, and the boys thought they would put him in a barn and take the night out of him. But

man who was digging sand by the roadside, took me to his house, and his wife showed me a little book, in which the 'Repentance' and other poems had been put dow

st of the County Galway Fox Hounds, coming back from cub-hunting. The English M.F.H. and his wife rode by; and I wondered if they had ever

hange in many countries; and in looking back on that century in Ireland, there seem to have been two great landslips-the breaking of the continuity of the social life of the people by the famine, and the breaking of the continuity of their intellectual life

9

at I went to see Raftery's birthpl

man told me she had heard it in a tramcar in America; and an old man said: 'I was coming back from England one time, and there were a lot of Irish-speaking boys from Galway on boa

aftery wrote was about a hat that was stole from a man that was working in that middle field beyond. When the man was digging, he used to put his hat on a stick in the field to frighten away the crows; and Raftery got someone

e pox, only three or four little marks-it seemed to settle in his eyes. His father was a cottier-there were many here in thos

got very angry, and said: 'Don't I know where he was born, and my father was the one age with him, and they sisters' sons; and isn't Michael

traid'-the old street-for a few cottages had stood there. A man who lives close by told me he had dug up a blackened stone just there,

Taafe that lived here, when he would be going out riding, and the horse used to prance when he heard it. And he made verses against one Seaghan Bradach, that used to be paid thirteen pence for every head of cattle he foun

ugust every year to do honour to his memory. This year they established a Feis; and there were prizes g

all of Raftery's poems that can be found, with tr

a Galway Feis this year he himself acted, and took the blind poet's part;

9

RISH B

on that existed in Ireland before Chaucer lived. While I had been looking in the columns of Nationalist newspapers for some word of poetic promise, they had been singing songs of love and sorrow in the language that has been pushed nearer and

was swept away during the last century in the merciless sweeping away of the Irish tongue, an

as Hyde or of Dr. Sigerson already published. I will rather give a few of the more homely

nt back to the village, and asked the smith's daughter to marry him; but she said she would not, and that he might go back to the strange girl from Galway. Another song I have heard was a lament over a boy and girl who had run away to America, and on the way the ship went down. And when they were going down, they began to be sorry they were not married; and to say that if the priest had been at home when they went away, they would have been married; but they hoped that when they were drowned, it would be the same with th

death; for sorrow is never far from song in Ireland; an

tagonists

scornful unde

re born are stra

imple music,

ballads by th

o what family he belonged; but I have not heard it sung, and only know that he was 'some Connachtman that was hanged in Galway.' And it is clear it was for some political crime he was hang

re you saw him, and y

nough, and he afte

white cap on him

pe in the place

king here all t

amb in a great

en, my hair

my brother but st

ried my fill was at

was at the foot

was at the head

and my own head

me in the place yo

o or down in

ld be broken, it is t

Donough going

gh, it is not the ga

the barn, to be thr

lough to the right

e red side of th

d Donough, O

who it was took

cup, putting a l

he dew in the co

ley, O scourge

s no calf of

d boy on a heigh

easant sound out

d Donough, is n

carry well a

e fashion on you from clo

ou out like a

your sons never be in

never ask a marri

table are empty, t

nough, my brother,

age portion comin

cattle nor she

nd pipes and

begrudged to them

f the 'marriage portion,' the provision for

of an earth-plot on the bare rock. The Irish coast seems far away; the setting sun very near. When a sea-fog blots out the mainland for a day, a feeling grows that the island may have slipped anchor, and have drifted into unfamiliar seas. The fisher-folk are not the only dwellers upon the islands; they are the home, the chosen resting-place, of 'the Others,' the Fairies, the Fallen Angels, the mighty Sidhe. From here they sweep across the sea, invisible or t

that lie about them, that the people of Aran and the Galway coast almost shrink from idealism in their fireside songs, and choose rather to dwell up

o hand. Here is one that is a great favourite, though very simple, and somewhat rugged in metre; for it touches on the chief events of an islander's life-emigration, loss of life by sea, the land jealousy. It is c

ve me advice, or to tell me not to go. But with the help of God, as I have my health, and

said, and the doctor, that with care I would come through? I got up after; I we

till she got work for me to do; there was never a woman I was with that wou

re growing in the gardens there, and the women milking the cows. That is not the way in Boston, but

the treachery; for it was she snapped away my four brothers from me; the best they were t

n on you out of the hand of the carpenter; the young women of the village would have keened you,

g of my fair-haired Martin that was drowned long ago; I have no sister, and I have no o

himself and on his tribe. He married my sister on me, and he sent my brothers to de

ne verse of it that said: "My curse on the man that made the boat, that he did not tell me there was death lurking in it." I asked afterwards what the meaning of that was, and they said there is a certain board in every boat that the make

know him; and after they have exchanged words of greeting, he asks where her brother is, and she says 'beyond the sea'; then he asks if she would know him again, and she says she she would surely; and he ask

ridegroom was drowned as he was rowin

my treasure was drowned? If I had been in the boat that day, and my hand o

rs, and all talking of the wedding feast? The fiddle was there in the middle, and

ho was three-and-eighty years old; if you came back within a month itself, I would

d you, and you lying at your ease; a quiet, well-learned lady to be settling out your p

mother that crooned you, and you a baby; your wedded wife, O thousand treasures, that nev

nds under the sharp rule of the salmon. Five pounds I would give to him that woul

rib, on their way to a fair at Galway, in the year 1

thought that if a hundred were drowned, your swimming would take the sway; but the boat went down, and when I got up early on Friday, I heard the keen

my arm'-tells of his hardships in the army: 'The first day I enlisted I was well pleased and satisfied; the second day I was vexed and tormented; and the third day I would have given a pound if I had it to get my pardon.' And I have heard a song 'made by a woman out of her wits, that lost her husband an

hich a girl laments the wandering

y it was the bones of an old goose. Do you hear me, Michael Taylor? Give word to

Cross; all round about Oughterard, and the hills that are below it; John Blake's farm where she often does be bellowing

urs of the night, it's the coastguard came crying aft

s we know it, is unknown on the islands; the nearest to it I have heard there is about the awkward meeting of two suitors, a carpenter and a country lad, at th

have taken so many of his songs to their heart, ha

flower of fine women; listen to my keening, and look on

she looks on him with contempt. She puts mispleading in her

ntirely to say such a thing as that; you will not get hate from me; you will

nd he under the table. Laid down by the strength of wine, and without a

d off by her lover, whom she had refused to marry, 'until we take a little more out of our youth,' and invites instead to 'come w

air in the middle of the house; snatch the hat from him, and do not give him any

y serious song; it was meant to praise the girl

day-dream of an old woman, too old to carry out her purpose, of all she will

I would dry it up in the sun; I would bring a load of it to Galway; it would go

he last spring-tide at it, and I to take care of myself, I would buy a gown and a long clo

eac said, that was over

did not know what the Carrageen was, or anything at all like it; but

sed by a fisherman to his li

l get the prize; she will he to-night in

iling; for she is the six-oared curragh-cin that never gave heed to the stor

ineas for her; there were many looking on. If he would offer me as much again, and a guin

remember an Aran man beginning some story he was telling me with: 'I was going down that path one time, with the pri

try, tir-gradh, is I think the real passion; and bound up with it are love of home, of family, love of God. Constancy and affection in marriage are the rule; yet marriage 'for love' is all but unknown; marriage is a matter of commonsense arran

down the other day by a Kinvara man from a C

om the store of my heart, there is a m

t to be to the door of your house; it is with you I wore

d the leaves of the trees dropping honey; I myself on the side where the blo

like a little br

f separations is already, they te

ne another our ri

exaggeration that has been the breath of Irish poets, from the time Naoise called Dei

y, 'or I may say Helen, the affliction of the Greeks'; and he writes of another country girl, that she is 'beyond Venus, in spite of all Homer wrote on her appearance, and Cas

colour of white sugar, or like bleached bone on the card-table; her neck is whiter than the froth of the flood

ction into each one of his songs; but when lesser poets, echoing the voices of so many generations, bring i

gid na Casad,' that has mor

ten flour, worked with fresh honey into dough; there are streams of bees' honey on every

without courage will not run the chance nine times? It's not nicer than you the swan is when he com

extreme in the beginning, and sud

ear me in the corner of the hearth; and her laugh was better to me than to have her eyes down; her hair was shining like the

y and punch going round, and food without stint for a man to get; and it is what I think the girl is l

not a great sin, she to be on a bare mountain, and not to be dressed in white silk,

ar as the big town. Is she not the nice flower with the white breast, the comeliness of a woman? and t

with her, and to go the roads with her; and i

mong them will put their half-articulate, eternal sorrows and laments and yearnings into words that will be their expression for ever, as was done for the Hebrew people when the sorrow of exile was put i

at poetry, though I think less by the creation of one than by the selection of many minds; the peasants who have sung or recited their songs from one generation to another, having instinctively sifted away by degrees what was trivial, and kept only what was real, for it is i

not forget it; and you will have a sweetheart for fair days and mar

peaking of you in her deep marsh. It is you are the lonely bird thr

ore me where the sheep are flocked; I gave a whistle and three hu

gold under a silver mast; twelve towns with a market in

ve me gloves of the skin of a fish; that you would give me shoes

spendthrift lady: I would milk the cow; I would bring help to y

drink, or sleep, that I am growing thin, and my life is shor

the road on the back of a horse; he did not come to me; he ma

n and I go through my trouble; when I see the world and d

t is last before Easter Sunday. And myself on my knees readi

l that you have in the world; get out yourself to ask f

morrow, or on the Sunday; it was a bad time she took for tellin

lack coal that is on the smith's forge; or as the sole of a sho

aken what is before me and what is behind me; you have taken the moon, you ha

9

ITE B

c League; and a line in one of them seemed strange to me: 'Prebaim mo chroidhe le mo Stuart glegeal,' 'my heart leaps up with my bright Stuart'; for I did not know ther

hour, till we would be telling you the story together of what it was put myself under trou

e troop readying their spears, that they do not smooth out t

e with my pleasant James.... On the top of all, my Stuart

ade; I to be lying down, and he weak under cold. My heart leaps up

the loss of my comrade, and I lying down with the mean people; it is my death

ains on our bogs and mountains.... The father wasn't worse than the son Charles, that left sharp scourges on Ireland. When God and the people thought it time the story to be done, he lost his head.... The next James-sharp blame to him-gave

and leaving the country? And what good did they ever do it?' And another, who lives on the Clare border, said: 'I used to hear them singing "The White Cockade" through the country. "King James was beaten, and all his well-wishers; my grief, my boy that went with them!" But I don't think the people had ever much opinion of the Stuarts; but in those days they were all prone t

were conquered by the Gael, and who still hold an invisible kingdom-'were dancing in the raths around Aughrim the night after the battle. Their ancest

nd talk of them and of the blackbird coming over the water. But they found it hard to get over James making off after th

e of the kings, but for the sake of the poets who made them-Red-haired Owen O'Sullivan, potato-digger, harvestman, hedge-schoolmaster, whose poems are still the joy of the Munster people; O'Rahilly, more learned, and as boundlessly redundan

autiful woman, white-skinned, with curling hair, with cheeks in which 'the lily and the rose were fighting for mastery.' The poet asks her if she is Venus, or Helen, or Deirdre, and describes her beauty in torrents of alliterative adjectives. Then she makes her complaint against England, or h

nished from her, that had a right to come and set her loose.' O'Rahilly, in one of his

ng in every lock of her yellow hair. News of news she gave me, and she as lonel

hat put me in hard bonds. She made away from me then, and I following a

p of young girls with smooth-plaited hair. They put me up in chains; they mad

e joined with a common clumsy churl; and the man that was three times fairer than the

over the kindling of her cheeks. She sent a lad to bring me safe from the plac

without giving some lines on Seaghan Buidhe' (one of the names for England). Yet he himself, when very downhearted, 'on the edge of the great wood under a harsh cloak of sorrow,' is cheered by the pleasant sound of a swarm of bees in search of their ruler; and with the pleasant thought that 'the harvest will be a bad one and with no joy in it to Seaghan. George will be

read for his shoes.' And his last verse, his 'binding,' is, 'I beseech of God, I ask and I pray very hard, to cast out the gluttons t

'the sons of the Gael are scorched, tormented, pitchforked, p

rrowful now and under weariness ... will be under esteem; and the Gael pleasant in the lime-white house.' ... 'I

to forget James, who is 'persevering, well-tempe

in a song taken down from some countryman, on Patrick Sarsfield, the brave, handsome fighter, the descendant of Conall Cearnach, the man who, after th

and your camps were loosened; making your sighs along with the

arth you ever walked on. The blessing of the bright sun and the moon upo

the prayer of the Son of Mary with you, since you took the narrow ford goin

from it again. It is there I saw the camp of the Gael, the

utiful troop was in our company; it is bonfires we used to have an

were going the way through seven weeks; but no

nd breaking on the Bridge of Slaney; the third breaking in Aughrim of O

r dung, but ready soldiers doing bravery with pikes, t

r soldier with King James. I was last year in arms an

thleen ni Houlihan is well known; and it is likely the king is calling to Ireland in

village are in m

r and letting it

ke a boy of the

the rout with th

darling, darl

darling, mov

hter than swan

ut heart gives n

mantic turn. A verse of Seaghan Clarach's, for instance, the lament of a farmer 'who has been wrestling with the world': 'The two that belong to me are w

s my life woul

s, and bare

heir fountain

the mount

e must forgive many others, for it has given the

O'Dwyer a

sted in t

erses sung to the Little Black Ro

, vexing love, lasting love, love that left me without health, without a road, wi

ought I could find your secret, or a part of your love. O branch of the tree, it s

it is likely they are the last to find a place there, for the imagination of Ireland still tilts the beam to the national side; and the loyalty the poets of many hundred years

9

OIBHIN

anding they are the fashion with their rules and exercises." This is so with me. Alfieri wrote these words a hundred years ago, and they express what is in my own mind. I would like better to make even one good verse in the la

ranch," is the name by which he is called all over Irish-speaking Ireland; and a gold branch bearing golden apples is stamped on the cover of his book. The poems had already been published, one by one

ent; and these, like most official odes, are only for the moment. Some are ballads dealing with the old subjects of Irish ball

heart the flame

the daughter

thers have done or felt or suffered can move one like a flash from 'that little infinite, faltering, eternal flame that one calls onese

e fine devils e

my grief! wi

ought, and

pocket, my ru

ft me with

elegged, withou

ft me with

miserable, a

like a coal u

ned sod, that i

ough, worse than

curse at all

n the gre

t is called "Lov

e in my youn

e, or give, or

one of the oldest of the poets cried long ago, 'Mine heritage is unto me as a speckled bird; the birds round about are

hat I am not a l

r the sea to Fra

y in Ireland fo

g, without drinking

g, without eating,

o get, without wi

s, without a big n

n me, and I astra

f that I am n

r awhile up on

my hunger, and

of oats or a

f that I am n

and swift on

s and hens

and geese a

that I am not

h the strong

e mayflies

oice, and swimmin

hat I am of the

tter for me to

a tree or an h

all, but the th

es of the sea answered to a cry of distress in Ireland, or when, as in Israel, the land mourned and the herbs of every field withered, for the wickedness of them tha

harp lam

old bitt

ing acros

as loneline

sounding o

against

, rough, h

as loneline

sea-gulls

ly through t

nd screams

art! Oh! that

f the winds

battle of t

, the skies, the b

neliness in all

from another poe

ght is; I do not s

my thoughts are that ar

out but of the birds

ng the air with lo

s like a bullet, cutting

eese higher again wit

other sound, it is t

the cry and the call o

storm outside and the storm

clouds are

t they'll take the

thunder is

ash of the

lf, within

w, small, war

t the su

sten to

ght, airy

g morning o

the eve

ike a d

ot one j

a bed in

he same as

from a word I h

by the Irish countryman, as we see by his proverb: 'It is better to be quarreling than to be lonesome.' 'I would be lonesome in it,' i

ere were i

e littl

wn, my own

wn o

e great joy

what

in the world w

is m

y for a ma

t's a

is no place

is heed for

s not in the

rt or

e help

ing of the

rd and it

sharp

e and it

by o

ing the wa

yone

ing the wa

self at

self; for I thought the wearer of the 'blue cloak and birds' feathers,' must be a fine lady, perhaps laying enchantment on the

ng at my co

at would put me

not walk, can I not

lways be turn

o be humble to you

cannot walk, if I canno

espect, and it's

loak, and your

not walk, can I not

oming as it's

ot be among us the

e walking, and each

be his will and

rs back: 'Neither star nor sun shows one-third much light as your shadow!' Another lover says of the woman he desires: 'I will write largely of her, because of the thousands who hoped for her, and who have been lost; and a hundred men of these who still live, are in pain and under locks through love. And I myself am not free, but am a bondsman in bonds.' And another boasts of 'a love without littleness,

ou be a

as you

be with

for

to me,

en,

ealin

ur quie

the lit

dark and

e road th

nds to

he Gaelic nature; there is also beneath the loudest mirth a melancholy spirit; and if they let on to be without heed for anything but sport and revelry, there is nothing in it but letting on.' There is grief and trouble, as I

rom a poem called 'The

e comes it wil

ow fat tha

ow lean th

the head, without

be raised up,

as high will be

be changed fr

comes it will

elf see this

out luck, without la

m, without knowledg

s, and don't let

fe is li

ches soft, the bark

a little worm

e sap all thr

s old, cold,

ant will

d will die w

orld will grow

e vision of a

hink of the c

is torn w

ink of the dea

reland bravely

ched on the sid

one with

grass, or un

nds or help o

d or a wife

o be found the

ain eagle and

head across

ce against the s

er against the

od soldier, joy

s laughing mout

young breast with

k hole that is

a brave man s

ed, without

t was proud and be

e loved left a k

ried woman, with the

without a father fo

without a lord, and man

aken cabins wit

fox leavi

body to fee

erce wolf at

his tongue and b

, and I hea

and of bl

t the only Son

lood that was pou

ts into words the emotion of many an Irish 'felon.' 'It is with the people I was; it is not with the law I was.' For

ying in

in

I will b

o-night

qui

o-night

in p

is cold a

I will b

is no he

gri

e is no h

in p

did no

did t

was right,

di

the thin

th the pe

with the

took me i

de of Cno

d

they wil

eak in

xed in

row I will

eneath

sor

eneath

od giv

ed, sorro

d give

ow and

m

ow and

heart of a poem, too much is lost in losing the outward likene

re stretched in

set yo

orry and pitiful

owful I a

em, their sound had hung about me for days like a sobbing wind; b

uai? ?uair

orai?

bróna? bo?t a

na? mé

LLADS I

a rumour had come that the police were to be sent to the war, an old woman said to a policeman I know: 'When you go out there, don't be killing the people of my religion.' He said: 'The Boers are not of your religion'; but she said: 'They are; I know they must be Catholics, or the English would not be against t

n shall lose

ket Thistle

sound sweet, sw

e eight an

that must be poor in form, because a ballad, more than another song, must have a long tradition of folk-thought and folk-expression behind it; and in Ireland this tradition does not belong to the English language. Even the beautiful air o

dear, and

that's go

for brave

ard on Iri

e English

ey will

join the pi

"God save

ng during the sie

with White

looking t

the boys i

ng short

dishes need

left so ni

nything bu

ving for t

courtesy than some other generals, for, in spite

e gave in

not thin

he least d

like Gene

ng a bold

as coul

ir deadly M

tremendous

aal Irish Brigade' has

ings low; the

ades, fil

voice will

ing light

ll drink to

the batt

reland, dear

nd fa

away! Irel

land, strengt

, boys,

that her ca

us bend

Again she li

e dares

hand, we tak

and in t

Ireland, dear

nd fa

away! Irel

Ireland, di

, boys,

of the wou

er of th

loved, and

d their bat

n, Lagan, L

c's soi

Ireland, bra

nd fa

away! Irel

Ireland, brav

, boys,

he air of 'The Minstrel Boy,' is al

rish boy is

to crush th

them hence f

hy land fr

'll pray to

rage ne'er s

m to the la

d o'er th

rish Brigade, belongs; but I heard of a ballad-singer at Balli

rom afar, with joy

for liberty, led o

good-bye, begged their husbands 'not to be too hard on the Boers.' Anyhow, a 'Mother's lament for her son gon

ges fiercely, our b

lows they struck we

y must obey, and fi

l Irish lad will f

home again! Oh! h

oken-hearted, my e

d cruel, but whoev

noble lad, and God

look with special sympathy on their fellows

sends her

across

f your frien

e your

oers say

ame to thi

t a barr

onest han

rded for

the preci

we have gr

ain came

ften don

ought to

ought to

in comes

ften don

ballad e

be blamed, as you

to free their

ht and day by the s

in Ireland that f

Ireland, we ar

brave Boers i

oor farmers we a

Old Ireland, we a

n on a ballad-sheet, but in a weekly paper, give be

is to t

ere I

whate'er

e thi

that I ha

and is

that Thou h

art wer

nd to us

ys of

k to mak

eld o

O Lord,

rth to

O Lord,

ve a

for the Bo

the curs

l smitt

wail, they

d's blood

e'er her sta

s folds

cries to

ance on h

w and artificial English ballad form; one must go to the Irish, with its long tradition. Here i

we call

ur and

n on thi

ome down i

we call

y and t

wn on E

cold, co

she was

withou

ill take

y, her

n that was

rmented an

ill get h

day, and

ge for

out on th

f the w

f the b

e for th

broke i

f the wh

f the bl

ge for

whiteni

f the w

f the b

e for th

e put o

e for t

n old tal

for the wh

left wit

for the

put to t

e for th

left und

e for t

pent with

people

is thei

people o

put to

people of

to th

or eac

d has d

for the

ved and s

for the

eath at t

, let t

down on

e of the

e fallen

rse of

urse of t

se of t

curse of

d does n

rse of th

will

s and t

l alway

rying of

rying of

oad to

ying wil

that is

long till

to His

ng will b

ill be

ey come

yers to H

make fo

hains, v

pay he

ong, hea

9

L LAMENT F

ritten by an Irish priest, Shemus Cartan, who had taken orders in France; but its date is not given. I like it for its own beauty, and because its writer does not, as so many Irish writers have done, attribute the many griefs o

L LAMENT F

alas! are wit

journeying

re as a f

s my da

ng in my life

heart

s are sharp wo

miserable sta

without mirth

n on the pl

ive you the

all the remnan

omp and her st

men were banishe

s are as ho

thout Mass, withou

orses-this st

tone of their

dren of Israel

and scarcity

written in a b

the hardship

m us the shephe

k that is astray

e torn by

for it from the

ll look down

indeed be l

every strong ma

and our well

plaining, an

er of the Gall or g

ry without any

hout cattle, but o

children are

kness travelli

r scourge that

her pain has n

y sharp woe! I

ing has a bow r

full of arrows w

of them for ou

our feet to the

hearts and to

t of our limbs

s come upon u

e rich, the wea

y whom hundreds

man, and the man t

d on the bare sho

of anything

ly or favourab

ea that our ne

that blows t

s bearing us aw

n that these are r

se the sea wi

ering wind w

heaven look

ur complaint be

rth refuses

t gives protecti

very cave, eve

ery lough, and

without any v

them but wom

hair, with t

fully after

f our organ

ost their string

de the great lamen

g men come back

lp for us but

ating of hands,

gth of hosts, n

of the Gall com

er, nor want of

feat upon the a

the cities with

t the greatnes

now put in

y worthless m

s cleansed from

is true in eve

suffer before

entance we shall

ing of all tha

own the sum

the poor, thie

held in l

to the man tha

ur pride was grea

ur debts was more

reachery Irel

ill of men on

udge that woul

eople whose life w

nd widows

udgment to be h

ver agreed

ound and one fr

umility to

or the heads

her enemies were

to be made o

eat-ear for the man

this has been th

the battle end

ow and change

pentance of ou

the Israelites c

ven pardon for

ter for den

reland, arise

ast care of us,

iled, we who

e out unless th

heavy or is t

t not give an

et it not be as

o help for the

is my own qua

emy of thy fl

are not ears

troubled by the si

ouble thee thou wou

rtheless with t

es to quit Ire

9

AIN T

unster when she has a mind. But she cannot do her marketing when she has a mind; for the nearest town, Gort, is ten miles away. The roof of her little cabin is thatched with rushes, and a garden of weeds grows on it, and the rain comes through. But she is soon to have a new thatch; for she thinks she won't live long, and she wouldn't like the rain to be coming down on her when she is dead and laid out. There is heather in blow on the hills about her home, and foxglove reddens the clay-banks, and loosetrife the marshy hollows; and rush-cotton waves its little white flags over the bogs. Mary Glyn's neighbours come to see her sometimes, when the sun is going down, and the hurry of the day is over. Old Mr. Sag

ll, and she stopped in the house after; and after two quarters the man married her. And one day she was sitting outside the door, picking over a bag of wheat, and the Saviour came again, with the appearance of a poor man, and He asked her for a few grains of the wheat. And she said: "Wouldn't potatoes be good enough for you?" and she called to the girl within to bring out a few potatoes. But He took nine grains of the wheat in His hand and went away; and there wasn't a grain of wheat left in the bag, but all gone. So sh

ght occur again at any time;

e fire, and warmed them, and gave them a drink of milk; and she sent out to the barn for a bag of potatoes for them. And the husband came in, and he said: "Kitty, if you go on this way, you won't leave much for ourselves." And she said: "He that gave us what we have,

the body or lay it out for a couple of hours; for the soul should be given time to fight for

y." But then he went, and he prepared the man. And when he was lying there dead, he saw the soul go from the body; and three times it went to the door, and three times it came ba

at is understood. And when 'Those' are spoken of, the fallen angels are understood, the cloud of wi

sky and the sea were full of them, and they are in every place, and you know that better than I do, because you read books. Resting they do be in the daytime, and going about at night. And their music is the finest you ever heard, like all the fifers, and all the instruments, and

and so we did.' 'It's likely,' Mary says, 'they wanted to come into the house, and they wouldn't when they saw me up and the lights about.' But one time when there were potatoes in the loft, Mary and her brothers were pelted with the potatoes when they sat down to supper. And Mary Irwin got a blow on the side of the face, from one of them, one night in the bed. 'And they have the hope of heaven, and God grant it to them.' 'And one day, there was a priest and his servant riding along the road, and there was a hurling of them going on in the field. And a man of them came out and stood in the road, and said to the priest: "Tell me this, for you know it, have we a chance of heaven?" "You have not," said the priest. ("God forgive him," says Mary Irwin, "a priest

on of God ever since. And I could never have believed there was so much power in the shadow of a soul, till I saw them one night hurling. They tempt us sometimes in dreams-may God forgive me for saying He would

sudden and carries the dust with it, you should say, "God bless them," and th

see them if you know the way-that is, to take a green rush and to twist it into a ring, a

-HEA

er 28th

ble Lady

ls and could get no cure. She went to London and found this holy man; and he sent her back to Gort, here to me, and I cured her. If your honourable Ladyship could make him out, it would be a wond

get R

of that Saint through the press, he'd tell me his remedies; and between us, all the world would be cured. For I can't do all cures, though there are a great many I can do. I cured Michael Miscail when the doctor couldn't do it, and a woman in Gort that was paralyzed, a

he weighed fifteen stone; and he went to England, and there he cured all the world, so that the doctors had no way of living. So one time he got in a ship to go to America; and the doctors had bad men engaged to shipwreck him out of the ship; he wasn't drowned, but he was

hem out on a table, and said: 'This is Dwareen (knapweed); and what you have to do with this, is to put it down with other herbs, and with a bit of threep

y]; it s very good for the h

're cutting it, you'll lose your mind. And if you are paid for cutting it, you can do it when you like; but if not, they mightn't like it. I knew a woman was cutting at one time, and a voice, an enchanted voice, called out: "Don't

(loose-strife), that wil

e (mullein), the bles

r-buttercup); and it's good

es), that's good for the hear

that were with the Jews did all the harm to Him. And not one could be got to pierce His heart till a dark man came; and he said: "Give me the spear and I'll do it." A

m, and I know them all; but it isn't easy to make them out. Sunday afternoon is the best time to get them, and I was never interfered with. Seven Hail Marys I s

from him she got her knowledge. I believe it's before sunrise she gathers the herbs; any way no one ever saw her gathering them. She has saved many a woman from being brought away when her child was born by w

-one time his heart was wore to a silk thread, and it cured him. And the Slanugad (ribgrass) is very good: it will take away lumps. You must go down where it is growing on the scraws, and pull it with three pulls; and mind

eacan-buidhe) is good for the gravel; and for heart-beat there's nothing so good as dandelion. There was a woman I knew used to boil it down; and she'd throw out what was left on the grass. And there was

ign they left on him. I had a lump on the thigh one time, and my father went to him, and he gave him an herb for it; but he told him not to come into the house by the door the wind would be blowing in at. They thought it was the evil I had-that is given by them by a touch; and that is why he said about the wind; fo

tatoes in, and had the skin scalded off him, and that Dr. Lynch could do nothing for, he cured.

with the Riv mar seala, that herb in

For the Lus-mor is good to bring back children that are 'away,' and belongs to the class of herbs consecrated to the uses of magic, apart from any natural healing power. The Druids are sa

m to drink. And if he only got a little touch from them, and had some complaint in him at the same time, that makes him sick like, that will

, and an egg." And she said: "I will not; for what do you want with them? you're just after eating." And he said: "Take care but I'll throw you over the roof of that house." And then he said: "Andy"-that was his father-"is after selling the pig to a jobber, and the jobber has given it back to him again; and he'll be at no loss by that, for he'll get a half-a-crown more at the end." So when

soon find that out; for she'd tell me she was going to get a herb that would cure me; and if it was myself, I'd want it; but if it was another, I'd be against it. So she came in and said she to me: "I'm

y cure with, there's some that's natural, and

e to tell you, not to make a scandal. Did I drink too much of it? Not at all. But this long time I am feeling a worm in my side that is as big as an eel, and there's more of them in

re was a fine young man I used to know, and he got his death on the head of a pig that came at himself and another man at the gate of Ramore, and that never left them, but was with them all the time, till t

man that was carrying was to put a basket of green flax on her back, the child would go from

ad no right to be sitting up so late: they don't like that-and he told her it was time to go to bed; for he wanted to kill her, and he couldn't touch her while she was handling the flax. And every time he'd tell her to go to bed, she'd give

ld' any more. For she died last winter; and we may be sure that among the green herbs that cover her gra

9

NDERIN

every now and then by the roadside for a few days or weeks. And I wondered why our country people-who are so kind to one another, and to tramps and beggars, that they seem to live by the rule of an old woman in a Galway sweet-shop: 'Ref

ligion; but last year Father Prendergast offered to marry a man and woman of them for n

for if you would let one man in, maybe twelve families w

t of them have no trade but to be going to fairs and doing tricks, and having a table for getting money out of you with games. Indeed the most of them are no better than pi

tle kennel of straw in it. Or if a man is alone, he'll lay down on the sheltery side of a wall and sleep

; but no one would dance along with them; it is only among themselves they would

hat had set up a little public-house, and bid him give him five pounds and he'd make his fortune. An

Quin's geese at Ballylee one night, and sold them to him again next day. After he had them bought, Mrs. Quin came down and when she lo

them at Mass. One very hard morning I passed by them as I was bringing in pigs to the fair of Gort. There they were, sleeping under an ass-cart, qu

hey originated in themselves. They are very mirthful, and they have no control; but som

but what of that? Aren't there many on your side and our own that think there

nment wanted to get information from; something about Bonaparte it was. And they offered him a good lodging with a feather-bed in it to sleep on; and he said if he slept one night on a feather-bed, he'd

very smart at cooking. You'll see them make a fire by the roadside with a bundle of straw and a bit of wood, and they'll put the pot down. What g

here's few of the police would like to grabble with them. I saw four of the police trying to tak

e lad of them came running to the door one night, and he called to us to come; for there was a man killing his mother. But we drove him away and

, indeed, sleeping out under a little bit of cloth, and hardy f

etimes they are rich. There was one I knew, a sieve-maker-they are of the same class-and that married a tinker's daughter; they were in here two or three times. I told him I wondered they wouldn't settle down in one place; for if I k

to the reason of

y, where he was minding sheep; and he brought it to a tinker and asked the value of it. "It's nothing at all but a bit of solder," says the tinker. "Give it here to me." But St. Patrick brought it to a smith then, and he told him

to drive the nails in His hands and His feet till a tinker was brought, and he did it; and tha

railway bridge that in the night-time she saw the whole wall beside her falling down and shattered; but in

He wanted, and he refused Him. He went then to a smith, and he did what was wanted. And from that time the tinkers have been wandering on the roads; but they wouldn't have refused Him if t

e religion of their own, but it's a bad one. It's likely St. Patrick put the curse on them; for a fleet of c

r story as I hav

OUSE

the imaginative class, the holders of the traditions of Ireland

m of a little child'; and Conan of the sharp tongue, who was 'some way cross in himself,' and who had a briar on his shield; and their adventures beyond sea, and their hunting after deer

n my own parish; and after we had spoken of the Fianna for a while, the o

e of the old men sat on a bench against the whitewashed wall of a shed, in their rough frieze clothes and

he Shrew,' which have, one must believe, been brought in from other countries-have taken an Irish colouring. I b

or they had never possessed enough to think of the possession of more as a possibility. It seemed as if their lives had been so poor and rigid in circumstance that they did not fix their minds, as more prosperous people might do, on thoughts of customary pleasure. The stories tha

ings about them, that dreams and visions have been given. It is from a deep narrow well the stars can be seen at noonda

as not practised enough to follow it well:-'There was a farmer one time had one son only, and

at was lying there-one of four-and he said: "It's a handsome man you may have been when you were young; and I'd like to know something about you," he said. And th

pened. "I would never believe that a skull spoke," said the priest. "Come

and it got up on the table, and it ate all the dinner that was there; and after that it went out again. "Why didn't you speak to it?" said the farmer to the priest. "Why didn't you

ee steps that were beside the church; and presently he was in a field, and it full of men fighting one against the o

men, all of them fighting one against the other. "Are you looking

n the hearth, and a lady in the room, and a serving-girl. And the lady was walking up and down the room;

for a head you're looking,

give the man his dinner; and what she put before him was a bit of brown bread and a jug of water, and he did not think it worth his while to eat that; and then the head bade the second woman to give him his dinner, and she gave

one another for ever and always. And the men and the women you saw, they were married people that used to be fighting with one another, and they must go on fighting for ever now. And the lady you saw in the house, when she wa

, she gave me nothing but brown bread and a jug of water. And when I asked the second wife for my dinner, she gave me a worse dinne

ent to a stranger's funeral. And go back now," he said, "to where your son was buried, and make your repentance there, and maybe you'll get forgiveness at the last. And how long is it since you left your ho

repentance, and asked forgiveness and his son's forgiveness. And at last a hand came up

lic one time; and the Protestant said if the Catholic wou

stant church for one day, and it seemed

olic church; and there he stopped for a year and a day

heaven," said the man. Then our Lord said: "I will give you as many years of heaven as there are grains in the sand, and hell after that." "That is not enough of heaven," said the man. Then our Lord said: "I will give you as many years of heaven as there are blades of grass on the e

hat, He said, "I will give

the Catholic

a bird-a jackdaw it was-and she thought it very nice, and she followed it on. And at last it spoke to her, and it said: "Will

he bird and followed it, and it asked her the same thing. And s

way in the carriage with him, and they came to a sort of a castle, and went into it. And there was no one in it; but no sooner did they come in, than there was a table set out before them, with every sort of food and drink,

from him. And when the young girl saw that, she cried out, "Oh, they are destroying you, my poor jackdaw!" "Oh!" he said, "why did you say that? If you had not spoken," he said:

nd she went up the stairs; and at last she saw a little sign of light through a hole in the roof; and she rubbed

e she was on the deck, and the sailors not knowing where did she come from. And she said to the captain: "Can you give me something to eat?" And he said: "That is what I cannot do, for the harness casks are empty, we are

use, where some great man lived, and she asked for employment as a sewing-maid. And they said: "You may sew one of thos

it to be the best dress, and the best-sewed, that would b

t. And the young lady that was going to be married, came down the steps into the garden, and she wanted to go on the swing-swong. And the other said she had best not go on it where she was not

ange girl, and they were going to put her to death; but she told them how it all happened. And

a clos

appened her

pened her; they let he

became of

? Didn't I say th

said: 'I'll tell

had a son, and the mother died, and he married another wife; and she had three daughters, and their names were Catherine Snowflake

e used to be giving everything to the daughters; but he had nothi

and it said to him: "I know the way you are treated," it said, "and the sort of food they ar

it out on the grass; and then he took out cups and plates, and every sort of food, and he sat down and

ay into the ash-bin; and the servants found it, and they told the queen t

e field with the cattle; and she bade her daughter, Catherine Snow

ut a pin of slumber you will find under it, and when you see her coming, go and play with her for a bit, and then put the pin of slumber to her ear, and she will fall asle

watch the step-brother; but the Bull warned him as before; and he put the

ut if the two front eyes were shut, the eye at the back of her poll was open; and she saw all that happened, and s

the way they could not get near him. And at the end of the second day he made for a gap and broke through it, and came to where the queen was, and he took her on his horns and tossed her as high as her own castle. He called to Jack then; and Jack pu

rough the day, for I have to fight with the Red Bull that is coming against me. And unscrew my right horn," he said; "and take out th

g as another's body would be; and he and the little Black B

t was as white as before. So he came down, and he found the Black Bul

Bull was, and he came out to fight the Black

nother wood. And the Green Bull came to meet him this time; and Jack went up in a

d he found him lying on the ground at the point of death; and the

ing," he said. "When I am dead, cut three strips of hide off me from the nape of the neck to the ro

d the other men, young and old, who had gathered round the teller, cried out at each new splendid adventure: 'Good boy, Peter; that's it; bring it out.'

e same words, in Gort Workhouse; and had given it to Mr. Yea

e got off his horse to look what was it; and it was a young little child was there, a girl. And he took her up on the horse and wrapped her up, and b

p his room and locked it, that no one could go in. And she did not like to be looking at the y

n end of her. And the girl went astray there, and lay down and slept for the night. And the beasts came and

and it is what he said: "My mother thought I would harm you if you came here, but I will not harm you; I will help you. And take these three gray hairs from my head," he said, "and bring them back with you. And for every one of them my

he went in and stopped there for a day and a night. And at the end o

nd she opened the door, and there she saw a fire on the hearth, and the girl sitting one side of it, and a child in

even years in hell for my sake, to save my soul." "I will do that for you," said

hat would give her drink, and a ring that would

ed there seven years; and through all th

en years to save your father's soul?" "I will do that," she said. "Do not," they said; "for your father gave yo

othing for her, asked her to stop another seven years for her soul; and she did that. And at

t with another old man, and he said: "Give me what you have there." "Who are you?" she said. "I am Jesus Christ." "I will not give them to you;" and she went on. Then the third time she met with an old man, and he aske

, where she was so long away; and when the children ca

in it, he went down and gave her a great wel

ife for his son. So he sent him out one day to look for a girl that he would fancy, and he brought one in. And the old king showed her a whole lo

. So he brought in a poor girl; and the king showed her the treasure, and he said: "What would you do if all t

you might be gone, and my husband mightn't treat me so well. And make him give me his promise now," she said, "that if ever he turns me o

lf, a law-maker and a law-breaker. And he thought a great

mering between the two fields. And the foal took a habit of crossing over the stream to the other field where the garran was; and it got to be so friendly with him, a

that had two doors, one on each side, and to put the garran outside one door and the mare outside the other, and to

justice that was done to him. And she bade him to get a fishing-rod, and to go fishing

And the king stopped and asked why was he doing that. And the answer he gave was: "I think it n

ust go if you bid me to," she said; "but do you remember your promise to me, to bring away three ass-loads with me of whatever I would choose?" "You may do that," he said. So she got the three asses, and on the first she put her clothes and some money. And on the second she put her two children. And then she came back to her husband and stooped down bef

t the gate. And there was a clock over the gate; and one day the doctor was going out, and he took his watch out and looked up

for the Queen and for the King, and a son fighting against the Boers, and neither of them ever sent me any

e'-to get him a bit of tobacco-a long story about a farmer

ght. "Indeed, I can't give you leave to do that," she said; "for a travelling man stopped for a night not long ago; and when he went away in the morning, he brought

, he was vexed, and said: "A thousand men might come the road, and not one of them do what t

gentleman to help himself; and they gave him a knife but it had but half a blade; and they s

to go with them. But at every dance-house there is a blackguard, and there was one there; and he began to mock at the strange gentleman. And one of hi

t told who he was. And then he quenched the dip-candle over her, that was lighting the house, and he mad

was lighted, the man was found dead on the hearth. And the sister rea

d place in the West Indies,

udden he made one leap, and was out of the bed, and bade the priest to be off out of that. And the priest made for the door; and I stood in the way of the man till he g

s my s

; and he sold her, and he took a drop of drink after; and instead of going home, h

of silver plate with them, they were after stealing from some house in the town,

of silver plate in the night. And no one knew who had done it; and the man came forward, and told them where the silver plate was, and who the men we

, and the last thing I lost was a diamond ring. Tell me who was it stole that," he said. "I can't tell you," said the man. "Well," said the land

in his supper. And when he saw evening was come, he said: "The

that had stolen the ring, and he said to the others: "He knew me, and he said, 'The

me way as before: "There's two of them," meaning there was another day gone. And the cook w

nd they agreed it was best to make a confession to him; and they went and told him of their robberies; and they brought him the diamond ring; and they asked him to try and screen them some wa

s to be found. "Kill that turkey-gobbler in the yard," he said, "and see what can you find in h

great rewards, and everyone

what is under a cover on the table." So the landlord brought him; and when he was brought in, they asked him what was in the dish with the cover; and he thought he

ver, and the man had no notion what was under it; and he said: "Robin's done this time"-his own name being Robin. And what

choice among them. And he used to be talking with them and walking in the garden; and there was one of them he got to like better than the rest, and the others got jealous of her, and used to be picking at her. And when Stepney saw that, he

d they began looking at him and touching him, and just by chance one of them touched a bell, and the door opened, and there was the young lady inside. And they took her ou

nd her. And one day he saw a poor travelling woman trying to cross the river, and

hey had a good bit of it made before night. But in the night all they had made of it was swept away. And the next day they were buildi

nights, and I'll sweep it away again now." "If you do, I'll get satisfaction from you," said Stepney. "You will have to find me for that," she said. "And my name is Mother Longfield, and my house is at the other end of the world." And with that she went away; and

g and litter that was in it. So he began the work; but for every forkful he would throw out, two woul

appened; and she said, "I will help you." So she took out a little fork, and she went into the stabl

well," he said. "I have the whole stable cleaned out, sweet and clean." She looked very sharp at him th

forest and began to cut; but as he cut, it grew thicker and thicker, and the trees that were saplings in the morning were large trees before afternoon. So when he saw there was no use going on,

e had cut down the forest, and she asked did Lanka Pera help him. But he

wild horse on it; and she said what he had to do was to catch t

catch it without my help. And I will turn myself into a mare," she said; "and you can get on my back. But remember," she said, "not to put the spurs into me what

it. And at last, in the heat of the race, Stepney forgot what the girl had sai

a groan of pity fr

him, and her sides bleeding. And it is then he knew she was the young girl h

nd they went back to the witch's house. And when they got near it, the girl got up and turned herself i

ught her to a house that was close by; and they made a plan to escape in the night; and they made the two horses ready to bring them away. And the girl made two cakes; and she left them with

e said to the maid: "Tell me a story now while I'm waiting." So she stuck a knife in o

to tell a story. And when that was done, the witch asked for another story, and the maid stuck a knife in the third c

oked back, and saw her coming like a big black cloud in the air; and the girl said to Stepney: "Take the bit of wood you'll find in the ho

nd in the horse's other ear, and throw it down behind you." And when he did that, there

untain rose up, that kept back the eagle for a time. And then she took a brass ball out of the other ear, and she gave it to Stepney; and bade

ome. But have a care," she said, "when you get home not to let a dog tou

e house, his little lap-dog jumped up on him and licked his face. And on th

girl came to the door. And the servants bade her to go away, for the grand people in the house would not want her. "I

a few grains of oats; and when the hen was going to pick at it, the cock drove her away. And the hen said then: "You should not do that, af

helped you to cut down the forest." But still Stepney took no notice of what was being said. Then she threw a little more oats, and the cock was shovin

ped up, and drove all the others away, and took h

d he bade the robin to go up in the hedges and to be picking berries, and he would have the hole ready to put them in. And then he said: "Let y

hole was full, the mouse said: "I have enough for myself now,

ll the animals came together, and all the birds of the air. And the place they fought

u now on a voyage if you will come with me. But go in first to the house and bring me out a bit of yellow soap." So he got the bit of soap; and the eagle took him and the soap and the sheaf on its back, and flew away. And at last it began to get tired and to droop; and the place where it drop

re was a house near, and a giant came out of it; and he brought him in, and said to his s

came to help him, much as Lanka Pera help

escape; and they got into a boat; and what she brought with her

nd the giant was very angry when he saw it coming without the girl, and he sent it after them again. And the girl did the same thing as before, and put the second pup into its mouth, that it turned back again. And the giant sent it back the third time, and gave it great abuse for coming to shore without her. And t

y for her at his own house. But she bade him not to let a dog lick his face or touch it, or he would forget all about

d after a while the shoemaker sent out one of his daughters to the well to bring in water. And when she stooped down, she saw the shadow of the girl in the tree, and she thought it wa

ht it was her own face she saw; and she no better-looking than myself, and that's not saying mu

nd withered. But that did not hinder her from thinking the shadow she

id: "Come down out of that, for you have given me trouble enough." So she came down, and told him her story; and he bro

ey asked a share of it. And he gave the flesh to the lion, and the bones to the dog, and the guts to the hawk. And they thanked h

father said that before he could marry her he must go out and see who was

t her by his strength, and she made off. And he went to the place she had driven the cows, that was underground, a

e hunted again on the next day. So the young man went out, and when he saw the fox, he took the shape of a hound and followed it. And

o get a musical instrument. So she brought a musical instrument to the side of the lake, and she was playing it; and the witch put up her hand out of the water. "What will y

the water, and she could see his face; but

ay it. The witch put up her hand, and asked what would she take for it. "Let me see my husband to his waist this

for that?" said the witch. "Let my husband stand up on your shoulders, clear and clean out of the water," she said. So the witch put him up

nd they were both tired, and they stopped to rest. "Oh, if I had three drops of sea-water and a crumb of wheaten

ving-girl from the farm brought the young man the three drops of fresh water and the crumb of bread.

d a farmer said he would take him to mind his cattle. For a great many of his

about him there, he noticed it to be very dirty and trampled by the cattle. So he brought them to graze in the fields at the side o

of it, and it was beating the other. So the next day he went to the wood, and he cut a hurl; and he was all that day

that was the weakest, and he said he would. And he drove the ball to the goal every time, and they gave the other side a great beat

that he wanted for a wife. And the young man agreed to that. And the king raised them both

tiful young lady that was there gave a sneeze; and the young man said, "God bless her." "Don't say that again," said the fairy king, "or she'll be lost to us." So she sneezed twice after that, and he said nothing. And then the fairy king said: "Let you take hold

said the young man, "after all the trouble I went through; but I will keep her for myself to be my own wife

for a visit, and she was astonished when the son said she was to be his wife. But all the time she could not speak; and at last the young man went up t

e king agreed to that, and they made friends again; and the young man went home, and found his wife speaking. And she wrote a letter then to her f

here. So he agreed to go; and before he went, the wife said: "When you come back, you will bring a title for yourself and put an O to your name.

ry king. And when they were coming home and were near the str

Connor from that time, that was the first of all; and the fairy

isn't a Tom, Dick, or John, b

fairy king, Mannanan of the Hill. They sat down with him; and himself and the King of Ulster began to play cards together, and whichever of them won c

an old stump of a tree on top of it; and they began scratching at the stump where it was rotten. And when there was a hole scratched in it, the king looked down; and he saw steps; and he and his men went down the steps; a

and drink. And while they were at the feast they heard something like the cry of a child from an inner room.

like gold. "I will bring away this child with me, and rear her up," he said. "Do not," said Mannanan; "for if you do, you

she grew to be a nice young girl, and there were women about her to care her and to attend on her; but she never saw a man

me as in some of the printed versions; but Mannanan's part at the end was new to me. The old man went on: 'When they came to Ulster, t

of Ulster." And Mannanan said: "I will give you no help; for I told you all this would come on you if you brought the girl away the time s

went out next time to fight against the army, they could not see who was before them; and

or a dagger that was lying on the ground, and she put it

nd on the other side. And a briar grew up on his grave, and a bria

't like it. And they were brought to India; and when they were there, they agreed to make away. So they went into a forest, where they would not be found.

e old man came into the house. "Bum-bum," he s

for there would not be enough for my friends' dinner when they come home from hunting." With that the little man too

their comrade lying there on the ground,

pot. And all happened the same as the first day; and they

uld keep a watch, and that they might be su

I will keep it for my comrades," said the soldier. With that the little man took a hold of the pot; but if he did, the soldier took up the tongs that he was after making red-hot in the fire; and the little man made off, and the pot in his arms, and the soldier after him

And they looked down, and it was very deep; and they could see no end to it. So the third man said to the

e to an end, and there was no sign of a bottom; and he called to them to pull him up again. It happened the same with the second man; and he was

tom. And it was in a hole he found himself; and he went through a great many

age now," he said, "to go straight before you for three hundred miles, to set free the King of Sp

are going to fight the giants," he said, "take no weapon but th

he copper crown.) 'And there was a young lady looking out of the window, and she saw him coming. "You'd best not come here," she said: "or the giant that owns the castle will make an end of you." "It's to make an end of himself, I am come," says

n his back. "It is to fight me you are come," says he. "Wait

eapons will you fight with?" he says, throwing down a brace of swords. "Is it one of these you

d he began to tickle the giant's ankles and his calves. And at last the giant st

o go where the little man was waiting at the

the third castle, that had a golden crown over the door; and the same thing happened as before, ex

e hole that they were at the top, and he bade them to let the bucket down. And when they did, he put the first of the three princesses in it. They drew her up then; and when they saw so nice a girl come up, they

to quarrel for her, and she said: "You may let me go, for I am

, and they began to quarrel for her. "You need not be quarrelling for me," says she;

elow was going to get into it, the little man said: "Don't get in," he said; "bu

h, when it was half way up, his comrades cut

re indignant murmurs am

escape. But the little old man took his whistle, and blew

till it would bring him across the world; and h

utting it into the eagle's beak whenever he would say "Quawk." But they were

but they gave out. But the third time th

g a great feast for the marriage of his eldest daughter that was the most beautiful. And when the soldier saw her,

en crown, the same as the one that was hung over the castle where the giant had kept her. And all the g

nt anything from him. So he rubbed it and a genii appeared before him. "Master, master, best master, what i

d the princess said it was just the very same crown that was over the castle; a

husband coming for his daughter; and he said he would giv

lled full up of mud. So the coach went up to the king's door, and the king himself came out to open it; and when he did, out came all the

y coach, and he got into it. And when he was in it, it is

t away together. But the king gave his consent

and if they didn't live happy

King of Leinster one time, and there was a lake beside his house. And every now and again

"I wonder I never heard any talk of these swans before, for they are the most beautiful I ever saw." And

d for a while, he saw the swans come flying to the edge of the lake. And then they took off their flying habits, and went bathing

he brought away the one that belonged to the most beautiful of the women. After a while they came to sh

e said; "but give me back my wings now, and if you will come to the shore at such a place to-morrow, I will bring a sh

ame and asked could she go with him. So at last he gave her leave, and they went down to the shore to wait. And the nurse said: "Lie down now and put your head

h music and playing in it, and came near the land. And w

t is making a fool of you she was, for we have wai

he same thing happened. The young man lay down to rest, and the nurse put a slee

e, and that the nurse told him there had no ship come, he was distracted, and went wandering about on the

owed him, he brought her where there was a well, and put a st

she said: "I cannot bring you with me now, but I will leav

ent on till he came to a country a long way off, and a wood

g for the lady. And the old man gave him clothes to put on, and a pla

ll bring you where she is; and when you get there, you must put the bridle on

it put him down on land, near a great castle. And he turned the saddle cross-ways, and put

serving-man. And the Master said he would, and he said: "The work you have to do to-n

that it is to bring me away you are come; and that is the reason he bade you go to clean and to attend to the horse in the stable; for it is wicked, and it would make an end of you. But," says she, "take these brushes and these shammys and brin

hey both of them got on his back; and away with him, and never s

settled down; and some of their d

s their

rsses of Roxborough; or maybe t

ed when would he pay him; and he said he didn't know that. And the landlord said: "Well, if you can answer three questions I'll put to you, I'll let you off the rent altogether. But if you don't answer them, you will have to pay it

hree questions on to-morrow, or to lose his farm. "And I see no use in going to him to-morrow," says he; "for I'm sure I will not be able to answer his questions right." "Let

Daly went in to the landlord, and says he: "

ut was: "What does the moon weigh?" And

ndred and ninety-nine," says Tim. "How do you know that?" says the landlord. "Wel

t am I thinking now?" "You are thinking it's to Jack

then; and Jack had the

aughter and appla

g of the Shrew. I heard it told in Irish af

hot temper. And the two civil ones were married first; and then a gentleman came and asked for the third. So after

d he called to it to leave following it, but it would not till it had it killed. And it came back then, and

ut the white horse he was riding at it, and the horse refused it, and he shot i

y enough given her, and that of the worst. She was angry then; and she said to the husband: "Why am I badly treated this way, and your servants are well tr

ther room with the father. And he asked the first of them how did he like his wife. "Very well," says he, "I have no fault to find with her, a very civil, obedient girl." The second son-in-law said the same; and then the fat

come," says she; "I'm dealing the cards." Then the second husband went and called to his wife that he wanted her. "I can't come," says she; "I'm playing the game." Then the third went

, and they asked what made her, that wa

the whole story of the horse and the hound being shot

the end of

one-eyed man was dragg

stock he had nothing left but one cow. And when he saw his children starving with

ll you give her to me for this bottle?" says the man, holding out a bottle to him. "Do you know what my wife would do if I brought

ht be a bad one, and maybe he might as well chance the bottle and go hom

im all the names; and the children were crying with the hunger. And the poor man didn

an to lay a cloth, and to set out every sort of food on it. And t

d come out, and would bring him what he wanted. So he grew to be rich, and the neighbours heard how he c

im to his own house, and gave him drink; and, not being in his clear

well with him; and at last he found himself the same way he was before, w

e bottle before, and he was there before him. And he told him all that had happened, and t

table for the good dinner they would have. But when the bottle was opened, two men came out with blackthorns in their hands

the cork, and he went away to the landlord's house. And there was a gr

p to the ballroom, and he put down the bottle and opened the cork. And when it was open, the two men came out with their blackthorns, and they began to hit at the ladies and gentlemen ne

ome bringing the two bottles with him. And

as going on there, the two bottles got br

elow the window, and she opened it to look out. And she saw the hand of a man on the window ledge, that was cl

m again, till she had killed six. But when she was striking at

she had plenty of money. And one day a man came to ask her in marriage; a

little bridge over the river. And when they got to it, he told her he was the

he knelt down; and presently she turned round and he was on the bridge beside her, and

nt home again. T

her has fought for the king, and

my story. Will you gi

day, they all had tobacc

entleman; and he was a good, honourable man. And he used to make the Sunday begin

f his master, and that was, that after his death he would put his body on a car,

car, and the carman went along with it; but he did n

full of spearheads sticking up through the ground. But the horse wen

and the people of the house came out and brought in the body; an

e of the house said: "You can go back if you like, but you will find none of

om. And he knelt down and made his repentance; and he was let up to heaven for the sak

9

DGE OF T

ted out the hills; for July had edged it with yellow rag-weed, the horses of the Sidhe, and with purple heather; and besides the tireless turf-laden donkeys, there were men in white and women in crimson flannel going towards the village. One woman sittin

e scattered houses and villages about had gathered to listen; some had come in turf-boats from Aran, Irish-speakers, proud to show that the language that has been called dead has never died; and glad at the new life that is coming into it. Men in loose flannel-jackets sang old song

ng to leave, Ballinrobe and the rest; and how she envied the birds that were free of the air, and the beasts that were free of the mountain, and were not forced t

, a recital of Bible history; but the judges rang their bell when he had got to the parable of the Prodigal Son, and was telling how 'the poor foolish boy went away from his home and from his father to some far country'; and he left the platform saying indignantly: 'You might have left me time

m. 'Tha se beo, tha se beo'-'he is living, he is living,' I heard him say over and over again. I asked what he was saying, and was told: 'He says that Parnell is alive yet.' I was pushed away from h

all, as we are told. But here, on the edge of the world, dreams are real

OIBHIN

en Douglas Hyde and Miss Norma Borthwick acted in Irish in a Punch and Judy show; and the delighted child

ry Theatre, Dr. Hyde wrote, and then acted in, 'The Twisting of

n love of drama, as is shown by their handing down of such long dramatic dialogues as those between Oisin and St. Patrick, from century to century. At country gatherings, those old dialogues, and the newer ones between Death and Raftery, or between the farmers of two provinces, ar

ad cat that put

tty young girls

e where was the brig

t me out by the Tw

e, be mine by d

e, be mine bef

e mine with every

are not with me as

ligo I got knowl

lway I drank m

y hands, if they do

k will set these

, his exaggerations, his wheedling tongue, his roving heart, that all but coax the girl from her mother and her sweetheart; but that fail after all in th

be given. But the disappointment was so great, that we all begged An Craoibhin to take the chief part himself, as he had done in 'The Twisting of the Rope'; and when his kindness made him agree to this, we went in search of the other players. They were all at work in shops or sto

l of kindly humour, of humorous malice, of dignity under his poor clothing, or the wistful, ghostly sig

ces are asking for the loan of the one manuscript in

him with a bundle of blank paper before him. When I came back at evening, I was told that Dr. Hyde had finished his play, and was out shooting

all left with a feeling as if some beautiful

ry little girl, who wanted to let the author know how much she had l

ds herself possessed of some accidental freedom, has no censor; and a play so beautiful and rev

astoral play which has been acted in Dublin and Belfas

iests; the last I saw in manuscript was by a workhouse schoolmaster; and all have had their share of success. But it

TING OF

A wander

eran. Engag

e woman of

. A ne

urya's d

who have come to Maur

omen moving about and standing round the walls as if they had jus

heamus brings him a drink and he stops. A man has come and holds ou

I'm listening to what he is saying? (To Hanra

did that fell

t dance with me, but I

ance with anyone but myself, and I here? I had no comfort or satisfact

comfort a

ned in the fire, does it not get c

re, you are n

s burned, and scorched and consumed, struggling

don't look

self. There is not a morning in the week when I rise up that I do not say to myself that it would be better to be in the grave than to be wandering. There is nothing standing to me but the gift I got from God,

ong as you have that, you are richer than the peopl

riend in this world? Is there a man alive that has a wish for me? is there the love of anyone at all on me? I am going like a

ike that; it is impossible

will tell you the little song I made for you; it is for you I made it.

to you as qui

a hundred we

t have you

w the piper is drinking a glass. They'll begin d

eople gathering in to you to-ni

there's a man of them there, a

isn't it-the man that is in close talk with Oona in

y call him; but it's Hanrahan the rogue he ought to have been christened by righ

ut of Connacht? I heard talk of him before; and they say there is not a

d to be, and drinking whiskey and setting quarrels afoot among the neighbours with his share of talk. They say there isn't a woman in the five provinces that he wouldn't deceive. He is worse than Donal na Greina long ago. But the end of the story is that the priest routed him out of the parish altogether; he got another place then, and followed on at the same tricks

e us; but what brou

ather great with my first husband. It is wonderful how he is making out his way of life at all, and he with nothing but his

our daughter, and their heads together; he's whispering in her ear; he's after making a poem for

gs and old made-up stories; and she thinks it sweet to be listening to him. The marriage is settled between herself and Sheamus O'Herin there, a quarter from to-day. Look at poor Sheamus at the door, and he watching them. There is grief and h

couldn't you

at would split the trees, and that would burst the stones. They say the seed will rot in the ground and the milk go from the cows when

out willingly, there would b

ot go out willingly, and I cannot rout

e is going over to her. (Sheamu

is reel with me, Oona, as

ng now to Oona ni Regaun; and as she is willing to be talki

g Hanrahan). Will you n

s to me Oona ni Regaun was talking? Leave that on the

us. O

t! (Sheamus goes away, and com

ly, drunken vagabond out of the house. Myself and my two brothers will pu

id of him. That man has a curse th

it is on me it will fall, and I defy him! If he were to kill me on the mom

amus. I have a bett

What advi

y advice, he will go out himself as quiet as a lamb; and when y

n you, Sheela, and tell

saw. We will put him to twist a hay-rope till he

not easy to do. He will say to

w a hay-rope made, that there is no one at a

e believe that we n

hing; he'd believe that himself is king over Ir

se can we make for say

think of something

is rising, and I must bind the t

ing if he does but listen at the door. You

om of the hill, and that they are asking for a hay-rope to mend it with. He c

y, that no one at all in this country ever saw a hay-rope, and put a good skin on the lie yourself. (Sheamus goes from perso

tramping the floor like so many cattle. You are as heavy as bullocks, as awkward as asses. May my throat be choked if I would

ance. And for what would

the moon bow to her, and so shall ye yet. She is too handsome, too sky-like for any other woman to be near her. But wait a while! Before I'll show you how the Connacht boy can dance, I will give you the po

rah

Oona of the

was destroying m

t love and my l

ever for any

o

he black ey

victory in the

self and I pra

y heart in my

rah

a of the g

ffection, my lo

l go with h

s heart in his

o

nk the night lo

o your fine

our mouth than the

n my breast you

rah

self the en

land, France

aw at hom

er the sun l

o

rd the mel

ts of Cork p

by far I thou

by far your m

rah

ne time a poor

ot plain to me

of her; she is th

rom me my grief

o

on the mornin

the wood at t

rd there was s

ve, and is it

ise, and Sheamus

country are is bursted; and there is neither tie, nor cord, nor rope, nor anything to bind it up. They are calling out now f

our poem done, and we are going to dance

ure you're a stranger, and you don't know. Doesn

es, it doe

r twenty coaches to be overthrown on the road than the pearl of the white breast

oor coachman must take them by the heads; it's on the pinch of his life he's able to control them; he's afraid of his

that will make a rope, if the coachman has to be

h the fright he got; it's not in him now to stand up on his two feet with the fear that's on him; and as for the third man, there isn't

en, show me how Juno goes among the gods, or Helen for whom Troy was destroyed. By my word, since Deirdre died

rope; we are not able to twist a rope;

nobody here is abl

obody

t I saw one of them on a goat that my grandfather brought with him out of Connacht. All the people used to be saying: "Aurah, what sort of a thing is that at all?" And he said that it was a sugaun tha

ng in a lock of h

rah

praising of the p

leave the

hem to twist

ster without nicety

er on the prov

not leave u

Munster of the f

t even twi

g back). Here'

the great trouble of the world directed him among the lebidins of the province of Munster, without honour, without nobility, without knowledge of the swan beyond the duck, or of the gold beyond the brass, or of the lily beyond the thistle, or o

rah

l of a woman gi

ove; she is

ona, the gent

do not understand

rmen are bli

nise the swan bey

come with me,

d her beauty shall

ding village? The village where there be that many rogues hanged that the peo

le Connach

for h

unsterman

the h

y see a f

of he

ing on th

y perso

is village shall be damned; go deo, ma neoir, and to the womb of judgment, by God of the graces, eternally and everlastingly, because they did not understand that Oon

me with me, my

of Connacht of

ive feasts, w

s, sport,

shine on it and that--. (He is by this time outside the door. All the men make a rush at the d

at is Tumaus Hanrahan-he is a poet-he is a bard-he is

ill be gone out of your head to-morrow; and you will be gone out of his head. Don't you know that I li

eak and of the strong-the curse of the poets and of the bards upon you! The curse of the priests on you and the friars! The curse of

bond! Do your dancing out there with yourself now! Isn't it a fine thing for a man to be listening to th

MARR

, a yo

newly ma

nd Fi

ghb

out, with two cups, a jug of milk, and a cake

ou, Mary; and a poor house I brought you to. I wis

the world a pair happier than myself and yourself; but

and earn a share of money bringing turf to the big town; or I coul

e selling the eggs or rearing chickens. But unless God would work a miracle

am I not rich so long as you belong to me? Whatever p

long as I know you to be thinking of me. No riches at all would b

gold, stor

ay like the

id that. I never saw him; but my

I wish we had goods and store. He s

the fashion,

han the bare

ood friend to the poor. I heard them saying the other day he was lying in his sic

Come now, Mary, eat the first bit in your

is a knock at the half-door, and an old

God save

. Aurah, the poor

ything at all to give him. I will tell him the way to t

. This is the first time I ever had a house of my own; an

pens it.) Come in, honest man, and sit down, and a hundred welcomes

he is blind. May

is a tired, vexed, blind man I am. I am going and ever goin

a bit to eat since mo

heart, there would be no taste on it; and that is what I did not get since morning; but people putting a potat

to the old man, and gives him a chair, and puts him sitting at the table with themselves. He makes two

and blessings on the people of this hou

that is the first blessing I got in my own h

or people to have a house of their ow

ight man; it is likely it is a

e over your head; nor the flower you smell on the bush, or the child, and he laughing in his mother's breast. The morning and the evening the day and the night, only the same thing to you Oh, it is a poor thing to be blind! (Martin puts over the other half of the cak

e is hunger on you. Here is another egg for

ives it. (Martin puts up his two hands as if dissatisfied; and he is going to say

that laughter came from, and my blessing on

! There is not a light heart

. Mary is

made her my wife

. Three h

were married to-day; and it is at

nner! Do not be mocking me

do a thing like that. There is no company here

the truth you are speaking? Am I the onl

God; and we would never have told you that,

your little feast on yo

without a welc

with those in need of it. I'd be better off now; but all the little money I had I laid it out on the house, and the little patch of land. I thought I was wise at the time; but now we

lost it all on my poor father, when he took sick. And I went back into service; and the mistress I had was a cross woman; and when Martin saw the way she w

l you have to

ettled we'll meet again at this house on a certain day, with the blessing of God. I'll have the key in my pocket; and we'll come in, with

s on the road. (She gets

y; I wouldn't like them to see how bare the house is; and I'll put a

f God come in on you. (Mary opens the door again. He takes up his fiddle, and begins to play on it. A

Who is that

ys that came to

, boys. (Three or

m the fair. Let you go out, and stop the people; tell them t

going home. They w

fine a dance as ever they saw. But they must all give

ey can have a dance of their own at any

ll them to come in; and to bring every

ho are you

Raftery the poet is here, a

ut, tumbling ov

I was born! (taking his hand). Seven hundred thousand welcom

ssing, and that eat food in my own house, he to be Raftery the poet! And I hearing the

I am well now, the L

fingers on my hands, and toes on my feet. But inde

e Weaver,' and the 'Shining Flower.' It is often I thought there should be

hey hear the wheels of a cart outside the house,

even hundred thousand welcomes before you to this country. I would sooner see you than King George. When they t

t didn't you

What messa

a present to the new-married woman and

see; I have something in

u have here. (Old farmer comes in again with a bag

ringing from the mill; and there is o

d and you. (Martin carries th

et the fiddler. (He takes

t time you came to this country. There is two shillin

nd

man has lo

hand to gi

l house fille

ouse that's

sead, long life

Are you t

. I

tell the people Raftery will let no person come in

going. (He

t the like of you for a poet in C

in, a pound of tea and a pa

ought this little present to the woman of the house. (Puts them into M

forget the fiddle

d are you

nd

ftery t

entleness

s withou

ness, with

Good

nd

ck, quick,

twice to a

ou when I hea

illing on

h a side of bacon in his

n plate). The 'Repentance' you made is at the end of my fingers. Here's another customer for y

the miracle worked for Saint Colman, s

nd

ung man wit

ow money

o Raftery, and I thought I would not be behindhand. And here is something for the fiddler (p

nd

ung man wit

ell dear, in

oes he know I have yellow hair an

d is going round wit

l in that. Maybe it i

man and two g

ere in the wedding-house, and that he would let no one in without a present. There wa

are to me. Whether it's asleep o

on't forget

Man. Are y

nd

ve Raftery

platter: who

ve honour t

platter: sho

; you're welcome! That is Raftery,

nd

girls, give

r old trav

oet in Ireland? That is Raftery himself. It is often you heard talk of the girl that got a hus

often heard ta

a great name on Raftery. (They pu

nd

go, give

g girl and t

Here's a couple of doz

th me here; but I have a good clucking hen at home, and

urs to be at hand. (Several men and women come into the

ether). Welc

nd

earts are wo

bride into

own gifts-a roll of butter, rolls of

Now, Raftery; isn't it generous and open-handed and libe

nd

Galway was

shillings

his plate

s, down with it! My conscience! Rafte

pride on us all to see him in this country. (Puts money in the

e, as they call him. That is the man that is hardest in this c

pride on us all to see you. There is gladness on the whole country, you to be here in our midst. If you will believe me, neighbours, I saw with m

nd

a voice lik

me little vo

have, if I'

t and a sm

as usual. Well, there is great joy on

resent you have brought

few fleeces of wool I had to the market to-day, and I couldn't sell it; I had to bring it home aga

is own present with him. There is the new-marr

all parcel of snuff; takes a piece of paper from the floor, and pours into

nd

e gifts of

with a wi

this, it's

of cows-a p

at your tongue may never lose its edge. That is a

g of meal from

n. And I am a

de of meat from

forget the w

nd

ea from the

this, it's

of cows-a p

l

this, it's

of cows-a p

the like of such fun

n for myself; but it's likely they may want it all.

g of meal from

l

this, it's

f cows-a half-

snuff round; they laugh and

do the thing decently. Give out one of t

of you for fools since I w

n of cows, a hal

ut down, take the fleece, and my share of misfor

f Raftery now? He has you destroyed worse than th

put it down, and there falls a little bag out of it that b

me that I got for my calves. (He stoops down to gather

did you get the money? You told us

nd

got go

es he ne

good mo

gh, withou

destroy

one-brea

me him b

ue-wate

anns just now, and I don't want another taste of them. There

nd

a new n

farmer, of T

lled, witho

ohn from th

overeign o

worse will b

mouth and let me go! Here is the sovereign for yo

up and dance but Seagan na Stuciare, who shak

minute or two, Blind Man s

he plate of money to Mary.) Take that and my seven hundred blessings along with it, and that you may be as w

is too mu

e too much done

ver and try can I hear what sort of blessin

money. Blind Man goes to the door, look

you up altogether, Martin. You'll be bu

ng digging potatoes for other men this y

eps are heard. A young m

e cars in the country gathered at the door, and

t wedding was made by Raftery.-W

him on the road. (Turns to young farmer.) Did you mee

did not; but I stood by his gra

, Martin, it was a

was, it was a man s

LOST

Old

eac

nd other

hildren, a share of them eating their dinner, another share of them sitting aft

Come out, Felim, till

us not to go out till we would learn this

t let anyone at all go

fear for myself-I'll get out, never fear; I'll remember it well enough. But I

ead). Now, children, have

poor-looking, grey old

rmacin that grinds the meal

r, will you give me leave to gather up t

here now, till I see if you have that poem right,

e till I ask old Cormacin what is he goi

ing them to give to

come over here. (The child

id not like the people to be giving honour to him, or to be saying he was a great saint, or that he made fine poems. It was because of his humility he stole away one night, and put a disguise on himself; and he went like a poor man

ng meal like ol

ine sweet poems he made in the praise of God and the an

is the name yo

e he was so holy. Now, Felim, say the first two lines you; and Art will say

li

ingdom of G

for every

r

s they c

r the ent

o

st day

belongs

rg

watches

eek ove

na

atches co

not it, Conall;

s to God Sun

sday we are now. Who is it has Tuesday? (The little boy do

int of his finger in h

ow; go in the place Fearall is, and h

ar

that Tues

in his fu

t. Now, Conall, s

l. I

before that and I will be

ying). I d

ead. I will not let you go out till you know that poem. Now, boys, run out with you;

avourneen; I will teach the

or quick like the other boys. I can't put anything in my hea

man yet, with the help of God. Come with me now, and help me to divide these scr

What are you making thre

that to the hens; they will lay their eggs better when they will get food like that. These little crumbs are for the little birds that do be singing to me in the morning, and that awaken me with their share of music. I have oaten meal for them. (Sweeps the floo

self young one time: take pity on youth. O Lord, Thou Thyself shed tears: dry the tears of this little lad. Listen, O Lord, to the prayer of Thy servant, and do not keep from him this little thing he is aski

n to the children outside; they come in and gather about him. The o

praise you greatly for it, but that child is half-witted. I prayed to

r. The time we ourselves are empty without anything, God listens to us;

e child, who is still asleep, and signs of tears on his cheeks.) He must work hard, and very hard; and maybe with the dint of work, he will get a

n. Ask it

remember the p

na

eaven of Go

ls for e

s they c

r the ent

st day

belongs

watches

eek ove

that Tues

in his fu

est and kin

im Wednesd

hat is withou

belongs e

he Archan

he has

iel, of the

directs

ord failed on him. But tell me, Conall a

ere was every colour that is in the rainbow upon him. And he took hold of my shirt,

eam to you. I have no doubt you will

me to me, I thought it was

s Aongus Ceile Dé hi

e Cormacin

eile Dé? I desire you in

d it out now! Oh, I thought no one at all would

ive me your blessing. O holy man, give your blessing to th

sing of God on you. The blessing of Christ and

NATI

Wo

phe

ng

d An

oly F

n come in-a woman of them from the east, and a woman from the west, and they tired from the journey. There i

oman. God b

man. God be w

. Where are

In search of

And myself as

at is strange. W

th to a child; and I think it would be well fo

he same woman I am in s

and grief and shame came on me after, a

at is just the same

tell you how it happened with me; and

an. I wil

ef! the husband I have is a rough man, and there was fear on me to let them in; I was afraid he would do something to me, and I refused them. They said to me they were very tired; and they pressed so hard on me that I told them at last to go out and sleep in the barn, in the place the flax was

man. God

re on the floor, and said to me: 'Lay that,' she said, 'on the place the pain is, and it will cure him.' Out with me as quick as I could, and the husks in my hand, the same as

. That is a

the woman in with me, she was gone; and I hear

man and a

God lying

. You heard

the morrow, for I said to myself that she was blessed. I heard she was gone to Bethlehem; and I followed her to this stable; for I thought I could be he

You said the truth when you said i

n. How do y

t she asked of me. She herself and the man that was with her were going by; and the day came close on her and hot, and there was a large tree of cherries in my garden. She looked up then, and she took a longing for them. 'O right woman!' she said; 'there is a desire come on me to have a few of your c

word out of my mouth than the big tree bent down of itself to her, and laid its twigs across t

was a great mirac

her; for I knew by it that God had a hand in her. And I took this bra

wonder how we came here to

in the inn she was not far from the birth of her child; and I made

I will knock

Woman.

there are strangers coming

the east. We must wait till they go past. (They sit down on either side of the door. Kin

s not possible I am mistaken. Is not the wonderful star we follo

here is not a bird in the sky tha

long, long way off from this country, following the star that i

west, from the setting of the sun

e say it is not without cause yourselves and

looking up as wise as ourselves. We looked up then, and we saw a beautiful bright angel over our heads; and fear came on us; but the angel spoke, and he said to us that some great joy was coming into the world, and he said: 'Set out now in search of it, and go to Bethlehem.' 'Where is that?' we asked. 'In a country that is called Judea,' said the angel, 'a long, long way from you

we have. And we are wise. There is no knowledge or learning to be had under the sun that we have not got. But now we are brought by the guidance of that star to the Master and the

ld us there was some great joy coming into the world; and we follow

t there is some wonderful thing in it. O friends, whatever thing is in this closed stable, it is cer

and rich and wise, and learned in all

d powerful, and wise and prudent, but we cannot tell you tha

grief or gladness, courage or fear, it will put on us? Wi

ers to tell of the coming and going of the stars, and the ways of the heavens, and everything that i

o will knock

s youngest of us, and the shepherd that is younge

y the youngest king and

und occasion of doing it? The man that is youngest of us, it is he found least occasion to

er shepherd). This is the m

r king). This is the you

t. Joseph, and the manger is seen, and Mary Mother kneeling beside the ma

he people of the whole world will be taught, and will be put on the road that is best. Show Him to

o put gladness in the hearts of the people. Show Him to us; and we will give new

e and simple. Come in, and I will show you Him you are in search of. Look at this baby in the man

. He is the

go on th

ts and offerings with us.

y and quietly, that you

n our company. I will walk softly

us give our poor gifts to you like the others. I

for the whole world to give a thing we have not with us; and we have brought another thing the world has not to give, the knowledge and sense and wisdom of our own hearts.

ng to give. We are old now, and we have got this wisdom from God, that there is nothing better worth giving th

man. Oh, do

World, he said! Oh, are

itter grief for m

r. There is no forgiveness for

an. Nor f

ou were not so

elves under some scalp of a rock, in a hole

then hasten that we

n of God is in this cradle, and His cradle is nothing but a manger. But yet He is King of the World. There is a welcome

men fall on

of the stable, and shining clothes on them like the colours

en to the angels,

give out peace; we give out goodwill; we give out joy to the whole world! (Th

E

& Gibbs at the Uni