I heard the following story from my Uncle Patrick Hutcheson (57 yrs) , a blacksmith living at The Swan Durrow.
In olden times the farmers used ot collect their butter and take it to the market to pay the rent. There were three neighbours who lived in this townland and they had the same number of cows but one of them went on May morning and beside the streams he called "All for me", "All for me" which meant he wanted the other farmer's butter. One of these men heard him and it came to the market day.
He told his other neighbour about it and said come along with me and we will manage him, when we get to the market. And so when all the butter was weighed up and the covetous farmer had by far the most butter but the other farmer