in the day, and they saw a grand rose growing beside it. She told me that the woman that went out with her pilled the rose and stuck it somewhere in her dress and both of them went back to the field, and started to bind again. They were binding for some time when the woman who took the rose got an awful pain, and started screaming. Everybody in the field came around her, and did their best to give her some relief, but all they could do was no use. The man that owned the field, Johnnie Deversuse was his name saw the rose in her dress, and as she never saw such a lovely one before he asked her "how did she come by it" She told him she got it at the well. He told her to bring it back again

Alias - The Last Rose of Summer.In my young days, there were, a number of Fenians living in the Parish of Williamstown.
One by one death claimed them, they were regretted and their memory respected.
At last we found we had only one of their numbers left and the youngsters called him 'The last Rose of Summer'.
This old man posed as a Great Leader and Patriot, as great, as the Great James Stephens, himself. And like James Stephens, Old age had brought the 'Last Rose of Summer' no disillusionment. To be addressed, as a Rose left blooming alone', was too much for him, consequently, he frequently

Well about 1 mile from Limerick on our way in (left hand side - half mile beyond 'Magardle's' Pub. "Man who insisted on working on the Sunday. That Sunday he was ploughing and having finished in one field, was talking his team along the road to another. When passing this well the waters rose and drown himself and his horses (Tradition). Hence the name.

A sketch of the rose which is carved on one of the Arches in Ballindoon Abbey. It was said to be carved there, sometime during the wars of the Roses.

I was comin' home wan night and when I came as far as Jim's Croy's Cross I saw a great green light and it in a kind of a circle Half of the circle was in the road and the other half was inside the field. I didn't know what to do whether I ought to pass it or not, and I stood there for some time, an' the light seemed to come up out of the ground in small little flames. Anyhow I blessed myself and went on and when I was goin through it, it changed into white and rose up in great flames and went off down in the bogs. I don't know what the meaning of it is except it has somethin' to do with fairies, for it is said that there was a fairy rath not far from that place. Anyhow I got home safe that night, and I don't care.

that day & he rose the corpse out of the graveyard & he brought it on & went to the house & got up on the house & he let the corpse down the chimney & the corpse dropped into the fire place and Lord C. had the gun ready & he fired at the corpse & the corpse fell down & after a while he got up to take away the body & he cut the rope & he took away the body for to hide it away somewhere & while he was away Jack came down the chimney & into the room & I am ashamed to say what he did but eventually he got the sheet from under Lord Castlebar & he went up the chimney again so Lord C. when he came back into the room there was no sheet on the bed only the old coarse bed tick

of him not to ask her for some of it? Maybe she'd have given it to him. He had right to chance her anyhow.
He came out and he didn't know in the world where he was for a while "Now in the name of God" says he "I'll go home"; and just then a wind 'rose and he had to keep his hand to his had all the way til he came near home.

saying it was a very unlucky thing to do to take anything away from a blessed well escept water. So she brought back the rose and left it where she got it. When she was coming back from the well the pain left her, and in a few minutes was as well as ever.
There is another well in Ballinaslany, St. David is the patron St. It is a famous well for curing almost everything, sore eyes, head-aches, tooth-aches and pains of all kinds. It also cured cripples. My father and mother went over to see the well a few years ago and they saw an old man with a crutch and a walking kneeling clown beside the well and he praying. It was not long until he got up and was perfectly cured and he left

over his grave. The cross is about ten or eleven feet high, and the old people say it was five or six feet higher many years ago, but it was broken in the time of the Rebellion.
Any person that would stand with his back to the cross and meet his hands around it would never have a pain in his back. The well that was beside the cross went dry one time and it rose up in a field a few hundred yards away from the graveyard, and it is known to this day as "cobar ban". There is also another well up in Adamstown called the "white well" and another well which is not a blessed well at all called "Fior-uisee well" pronounced "fee-rish eh"

I
My name is Pat O Donnell,
I came from Donegal.
It's now you know a deadly foe
Both traitors one and all.
For the shooting of James Carey
I've been tried in London town
On the field or scaffold high
My life I must lay down.
2
I sailed away in the ship Man Rose
In August '83
'Twas on my way to Cape Town
He was unknown to me,
When I found 'twas Carey
We had angry word and blows
The villian thought to take my life
On board the ship Man Rose

more questions but took it. The other man was very nervous about us. "Be careful" he says as we started off "There was no mistake about the behaviour of the horse and I saw the white figure and the black dog prowling around alright. "Good" I cried. "I am dying for a sight of the banshee myself, but he is right about the horse, he is spirited enough for anything, he would shy at a tree let alone a banshee."
The bridge over the river lay about four miles away. As we drew near it my interest and expectations rose as I didn't believe at first that my companion had seen anything at the bridge although I had seen the horse shy: we were half-way down the hill to the bridge when suddenly I saw something black walk out from the dark hedge. "Do you see that?" whispered my companion and the priest at the same moment. I
nodded. However the horse kept on

almost dead. He was trembling and bathed in sweat and the foam was thick on his mouth. I saw that it would be necessary to lead him across But the horse was so frightened that I thought it best to lead him back and tie him as before. "We must investigate" replied the Priest "There's something wrong, foul play of some kind or perhaps some tragedy." Again w made our way to the bridge. As we drew near it the Priest says to me, "Keep your eyes on the corner of the hedge, they are keener than mine. Tell me if you see anything. I stared at the spot but could see nothing. Suddenly my companion stopped and gripped the Priest by the arm, "Look" he shouted "do you see it?" "See what?" inquired the Priest. "It's the banshee" he said and fainted.
We soon brought him to again and I must say a certain feeling of awe rose before me. "It can't be a banshee" replied the Priest "The idea

was fighting with the rebels. He died 3 weeks after & she saw him coming up the road & his sword & top boots & all strapped on his coffin & a troop of soldiers marching behind & before going to fire over him. He was buried at Hacketstown.
That night a fellow who lay among the dead all day opposite the Barracks rose up & shouted "Boys of Wexford, have you the barracks taken" & the guards couldn't see him but they fired at the voice & killed him.
The day after the battle my grandmother she was a girl of 16 then walked into Hacketstown.

"There was a boy of the Doherty's sick over at the Inch (.1.) [?] na Saub). He was very bad this day & they sent for the knowledgable man & he said that the boy would die except they got a drink for him out of a certain well The drink was to be taken out of the well before sun-rise. Bill Ryan, an uncle to the man that was here, said he'd go & get the drink. Howsoever he rose early on the morrow. When he went to the field, it was full of men hurling. He knew some of them - neighbours, that was dead some time. Some of them were friendly to him & some of them didn't want him at all. Over comes my bold Larry Forman & puts the camán in Bill's hand. Up with him like a man & between the hopping & the [?] he puts out the goal. He takes the vessel out of his pocket & gets drink of water & the boy lived. He grew to be a big brave man. I knew him well.

You'd often hear people saying that people dont come back. Begob I think they do. Look at Jim Donoghue in Ballymitty, didn't his mother come back? He was in the bed wan night and she came and crushed him in the bed. The mark was on his hip of her four fingers and thumb, and it stayed there 'til the day he died. And it all rose over her clothes, about giving them away to some wan. The clothes should be given for the good of the person's soul, and they shouldn't be worn by any member of the house.
Some said 'twas over the girl he married. The mother didn't want her, but he married

The 'Last Rose of Summer," was, by the hospital staff, soon recognised as a 'character,' __ a gold coin be smeared with the mud stains of life and the disillusionments of old age. He became a favourite with the specialist and a curiosity to the nursing staff.
Here in a Dublin Hospital, the old fenian, lat last found himself treated, as he desired to be, with awe and respect.
He dreamed dreams of former greatness. "His name and his brave deeds would be known to the generations to come. His memory would still be green in the hearts of the Irish people when the youngsters in Williamstown would lie forgotten in their graves. He was a born hero, he lived the life

of a hero and he would die the death of a hero."
But strange ___ when told by the specialist that he was now "very fit" and to make his arrangements to return to his home in Williamstown, the Last Rose of Summer developed complete deafness.
To all inquires of specialist nuns and nursing stall, his reply was, "I'm stone deaf". "I cannot hear". "Yes, yes, sister, I feel me self very comfortable here." "I'm very happy here." The great specialist was amused, the matron (nun) determined that now the old man was restored to his former goof health he should leave the hospital, so that his vacant bed be occupied by another patient. She tried to make the old man understand so. "Eh, Sister. I'm stone deaf. I don't hear." "I'm as deaf as the post of me bed." "I'm very comfortable."

his frieze coat.
His neighbors received him kindly and came to welcome him home and spend the evening with his-- The youngsters were also glad of her return-- They missed the old familiar figure. Their pranks were the of youngsters. They take him an'ass cart of the turf d a cleeve of potatoes free of charge.
When at last the "last Rose of Summer" faded and dried- he was regretted by old and young and all turned out to attend his funeral and give humor and respect to his memory.

There was a big flag down in Rowan where they used to grind corn long ago. There was supposed to be money buried under it and fellows used to try and go lift it; they used to be scábing [?] there anyway.
Two fellows came wan night to lift it. They had wollen thread set around it. Twasn't long 'til a big rally came. It bet the devil; and a big black man came along and sat on the stone.
He lifted the stone and something like three angels rose up out of it - but I suppose they were three devils - and hovered about
Then there was a terrible noise, like a race, or a stampede, or a steeplechase

fairies live in that fort where you see all the sgeach's. They do be hurling there by night. Many and many's the time I saw lights in the fort at night. It is called 'Dúnmain'.
[Two years later (about 1903) Owen fell dead by our side on the very spot where he had spoken two years previously. That put an end to my race-going for the time being. Owen spend some time in Kerry working at the laying down of a railway (Dingle, I heard) where they had "great wages - two shillings a day. He learned a good deal of Irish there. I remember to hear him translate some Irish words that were on a meal bag when I was very, very, young. Eorna was one of the words: I also learned "súiste," "buailteán" and "corrán" from him. He was never done talking about the use of the reaping-hook in Kerry and of the flail - always we used the flail constantly in those days ourselves.
Owen: "When I was a young man I spent a number of years working for a farmer near Old Leighlin (Pr. 'lôcklin'). Molaise is the patron saint of Leighlin. There is a place there called Croc' chinn where the Saint brought a young man back to life. He was killed by robbers and his head cut off. The boy's mother begged the Saint to give her back her son. He stuck the head on the body and the boy rose up and walked away. The place is still known as Croch cinn or cros cinn. No, I