little pitcher under his arm until he came to a stream. He sat down by the stream an' rested for a while. He was beginning to get very hungry an' didn't know what to do. Suddenly he saw a little trout swimming to an' fro in the stream. He put his hand in the stream an' caught it. "Begor" says he "I'll have somethin' to eat now anyhow." "Oh don't eat me, don't eat me" says the little trout, "an anything you wish for you can have it " "Oh, I don't believe you at all" says Mocley. "If I break my little pitcher will I get another if I wish for it." "You will, you will," says the little trout." Mocley then broke his little pitcher an' wished for another. The moment he did he got it. He then released the little trout an' set out for home. It was night by the time he got

well off. He remained with his own people for about six months an' he doin' nothin' except goin around the roads an' he dressed up like a gentleman. At the end of that time he took a notion to travel around the world for a couple of years.
So he started off wan mornin' an' travelled on an' on an had a great time. Everythin' he wished for by the bert of his little trout he got it.
It happened wan day that he was passin by the king's palace an' he saw the princess sittin in a window. She was very beautiful an' Mocley the fool fell in love with her but he knew hid have no chance of her. So he said. "I wish by the bert of my little trout that the princess will have a child for me by this time nine

home an' he was mad with hunger. His father an' mother wondered greatly at him coming home so suddenly an' they were also mad with him for they hadn't a bit to ate in the house only what would do themselves. "You came back very quickly" says his mother to him." "did you get home-sick." "No" says Mocley "I have my fortune made," They thought he was foolin them. "Well" says Mocley if yous dont believe me listen to this. I wish be the bert of my little trout for a good supper on that table." No sooner had he said the words than there was a great supper on the table all the gran' ateables you could mention. So the three o' them sat in an' had a very hearty meal. Mocley soon got to be a very rich man, an' his people were also

her child. He ordered a boat to be built an' when that was done put it out on the water an' ordered Mocley an' the princess an' her child to be put into it, an' let them go where they like.
When they were on the water for a couple of hours, says Mocley to himself. "I wish by the bert o me little trout that there'll be a grand mansion with a whole lot of attendants an' a bodyguard of soldiers outside by the side o' this lake"
When they came to the beach they saw the grand mansion. "This is my mansion" says Mocley to the princess "What do you think of it" When the princess saw the grand mansion she was surprised she never saw it before, but she was delighted when she saw the inside for she was never in a such a

mansion before, an' it was ten times a better an' as grander mansion than her father's palace. So Mocley an' the princess got married an they lived happily for a long time.
After sometime the princess said she would like to see her father again, so they invited him an' all the nobles, to a gran' feast at Mocley's mansion. That night they were drinking wine out of gold cups, an' when the attendants were washing them up they found out that wan o' them wo missing, so they told Mocley. Mocley said to himself "I wish be the bert o' me little trout that I'll find that cup in the kings pocket. Mocley then told all the guests that the cup was stolen and that he was sorry he would have to search everybody there. So he started to search an' he searched

not please him at all.
There was another man living in the same part of the county and he was a poet. He had no education or anything of that kind but he was great man entirely for putting verses together. Anyhow Pat the Pork was wan day out fishing and he caught a whole lot of trout and eels and stuff like that. When he was coming home he met this poet and they wor talking for a long time and they talking about fish and catching fish. The poet told Pat that he never could catch fish in his life and he wondered what was wrong with himself. "Now" says the Pork to him "I'll tell you what we'll do. I see Lady Dear coming down in this direction here. She is fishing I think. If you will make some rhyme about the weather or the fish or the river or something like that, I will give you

"Tickling trout" is an illegal process by which the fish are removed by the hand from underneath the bank of the river. The "tickler" often catches a rat.
Pearl fishing in the Doirín was once a lucrative occupation. The shells are removed from the bed of the river with a cleft-stick. They are afterwards opened and examined at leisure. A good pearl may be worth 7/6.
Minows are known as pincín's
The sun dances in the well on Easter Sunday morning.
If you go astray at night turn your coat inside-out.
Strong hair on back of neck augers numerous progeny.
First son called after paternal grandfather.
First daughter called after maternal grandmother.
In former years grandchildren went to their god parents for their "Easter's eggs". My grandfather walked to Dublin for his. His godfather, a rich city merchant, compelled the garsún to walk all the road home as a punishment for having left home without permission. The journey being over 50 miles each way. On his return "he had no boot to his foot".
Cure for warts, water from a "bullawn" stone or from the smith's trough.
When you "lose" a tooth, throw it over left shoulder in name of the F. Son &H. Ghost.
When you get your hair cut, collect the hair and place it in a hole in the hole as you will have to come back

291
ín Re moonín bhe dhol iad Ré same wadi - né
bhoit
"Ón Bod:"Na sais "ne has mé raibed agín."
só an mac an ne uas le Gíot da he uaid
marlles Che secoud dair.
só bhe lad rnans Re'd come agín. Sud he
used Co be barrín Naols, ard ibego he tad
úis caust Pn moonín. Sho he brouslt Mham
in and he puí him inó a bhor, gud he lall
he hoíbhe: "Mas Fcela ’cll chome heic íodar nois
sualla arín," hesais, "and sa bhai s anns
Rome - Mhat sim gone bar ruair Grom homa ladar
So "A wainí lorg aí ach mbil bhé man cane.
ud mhe bella trout one a’ bhe Nanca uílá
im goin, and he beat- out- ad slúck Rímsel
ín in a shed or ín an seo hedal ón somerhac,
ard síorrad bhuic. 10ud bí fella canc áid hé
has maid, aid ne aohad ioluch ban hé.
"Au, moha, "sha said, "gon bhont see ’ím
Iodair. Bo's a lorg luais gone, dhe sáis, "Goom
nome íodair, and Mheicis na chanc al-all de’ sé
hore," óha sais, "bdair. Bhegi agus a