cobblers outfit. He gave them a last a hammer an awl and leather to sole all the boots. But he told them that when the end would come they would have to give up all to prepare their soul for the last and that is the reason why all the shoemakers to this day lays down their awl to prepare their sole for the last. So the angels became the fairies and the ould angels became the Leprecauns and they are always seen putting soles on boots, and it also explains why they were called the "good people" because they were angels in the first of their days and also it gives use to the ould saying "I left Ireland and went to Taghmon."

Wan night when my mother, God rest her soul was coming home from town she got a fright that she didn't forget until the day she died

horribly wrinkled skin, the sunken mouth and the staring eyes. I stopped and looked around as I couldn't believe my eyes. Then while I uttered or tried to murmur a prayer I drew nearer while the priest advanced still nearer and put out his hand slowly. His fingers reached and stroked a face. He drew back his hand with a cry. What he had touched was a face that was as cold as death itself. He then knealt down and said a prayer to speed her soul as she was an old woman who had died by the roadside. Having covered her face we left her there and made for the squire's house. He wasn't too bad, but all his servants were terrified because the accident happened on the very day that he had begun to cut down the trees in the fairy rath. The doctor tended his hurt for a few days and then he was fit to hunt again. All the same he stopped his operation on the fairy raths and replanted the whitethorns and hazels

Cuckoo heard for 1st time in right ear, good luck.
Cuckoo heard for 1st time in left ear, bad luck.
When you hear the cuach lift up your right foot and you'll find a hair on the sole of your foot - the colour of wh. will indicate the colour of the hair of your husband or wife. "I never liked the leg but I got the hair" old men declare.
Spider crawling on your hat. You'll get a new hat, coat, new coat etc.
Cock crowing at night terrify half the parish.
If cock enters the house and crows during the day avert the disaster by addressing him: 'Good news, Cock!"
Red haired woman - turn back or desist from the job.
It is wrong to kill any animal after dark.
It can be one of your nearest and dearest departed.Pater and 3 Aves recited after family Rosary for all the poor souls in Purgatory esp those nearest and dearest to us. He or she who recites the last decade f....les them: "Thanks be to God, Glory be to the F, S and HG - revival from penal days

His counsel that allured to heaven and pure from sin and folly.
His lowly, peaceful, christian mein, his eyes with kindness beaming
His honest heart that never learned the false world's hollow scheming.[8]
But oh! those scenes so beautiful, such long loved charms displaying
Recall the time, the bitter time, that saw thy light decaying,
when sank thy gentle spirit down, and shrank thy form away.
As fed by hope or racked by fear, we watched thee day by day.[9]
These scenes too vividly recall that night of dark November,
when by thy dying couch we sat within the silent chamber,
Heard the last words, caught the last sigh, and marked the last faint shiver
As winged thy soul her joyous way to realms of light forever.

only then he realized that it was All Souls Night, and he wondered how he got out of the graveyard with his life.
Tom then swore that he would never taste a drop of drink from that day out. He kept the pledge for about for about six months, and then of course a thing happened that would make any man break the pledge, a child was born to him. Tom went to town that evening and he met a friend there and they were talking for sometime, and then Tom told him what had happened at home. The other man of course congratulated him, and all that, and then he asked Tom to go and have a drink. Tom said he wouldn't that he hadn't tasted a sip for six months. The other man kept asking him anyways and at last Tom gave in and went to the

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

Canticle of CanticlesThat radiant brow, reflecting cheerful day! That bosom, which no rebel thought could soil: Whereon, content the Word Incarnate Lay! Those lips and cheeks, where modest graces play: Whose vernal bloom no lunar phrase hath drained, -- t'en for the while, she bore the germ ordained, To heal my soul, and keep it from decay! Those eyes, the mirror of a thoughtful sea In cloudless calm -- except when perfumes pure, Some zephyr wafts from the Elysian field! Ah! thither shall my heart seeurely flee For rest and peace, should fading beauty lure, Till god's Essential Beauty is reveal'd.

Year 1846. There is also an exclusive Catholic School for boys under the direction of St Francis attended by 400 boys who are trained in reading, writing, bookkeeping and many of them in the higher branches of Mathematics.
28th Oct 1845. Death - at the Franciscan Convent Nuns' Island, Galway, Sister Mary Clare who was 60 years in religion.
Death - Mrs Anne, Euphrasia, Stuart, the pious foundress of the Carmelite Nunnery at Fir - house Co Dublin. Mrs Stuart entered into religion at the early age of eighteen, in Ranelagh Convent and from that day to the hour of her death, distinguished herself as an ardent patroness of education. On Tuesday the 13th of October, in the 53 year of her age after a long and painful illness. The Obsequies for the repose of her soul were on Thursday. Rev Dr O Connor -Bishop of Saldes presided. Rev Mr Daly as high priest. Rev Mr Spratt Subdeacon. Rev Mr Walsh deacon We also noticed the Rev Mr Mooney. Rev Mr Murphy, Very Rev Charles Stuart, the deeply affected brother of the deceased

too thin for Brian, the phriest bein agin him, was more than he could put up wit, so wan day when he was out walkin' he met him. Well sez Brian to himsel, Imight is well catch the bull be the horns now is I have me chance." He walked up to the phriesht but the phriesht didn't pretend ta notice him. Brian washtnt ta be sthopped so aisy when he meant business so he jusht asked him politely, but all the same, [?] enough ta listhen to his sthory.
The phriesht did, an' Brian tould him the whole sthory about ould Corcoran, an' how it was him that tould him about Schanlon's wife, an' how he was at the preshent time in aloft over his own bedroom, an' sez Brian, an' him windin' up his sthory, if ye don't believe me I'lll bring Corcoran ta the chapel nexht Sunday for ye ta see him.
The phriesht agreed abright ta this, so the very nexht Sunday, when Mass was over, Brian called the phriest on [?] him ta look into acorner in the chapel. The phriesht did so an' sure enough there was ould Corcoran. The phriesht turned pale, when he saw him. "Take away that Spirit, sez he ta Brian, an' I'll say amass for the poor soul, an put him to resht. Take it from me, the phriesht never found any fault wit Brian Hayden ever afther, an' poor ould Corcoran never [?]

Oer the dust of empires and the mauldering thrones of kings:
From these northern lands and piping peaceful times.
To other days in far off southern dimes; To what St. Patrick, messenger from above, Warned our island -- home with peace and love: To Rome, the home of Peter, the city of the soul! Who on imperial ruins lasting stands, more glorious now than when she did control And held the world dismay'd in captive lands; who having raised aloft the standard of the cross, And bade her hosts from strife and carnage cease, Instead of her dominion suff'ring loss, Hath now beneath the sway of Christian peace A wider and more daring power acquired, And all men with one aim and purpose deep inspired.
There we will show how the fierce pagan lion, Surfeited with blood of Christians dying, By the gentle charms of Christian virtue tamed, It's rage allayed, from savagery reclaimed, With Peter's sheep and lambs was gently led,

Mise: "Bail ó Dhia oraibh"
beau Uí an Phuist: "Brighid 's Muira dhiut"
[Extract from my lecture mentioned above:
"Go into any house in this parish with the usual Bail ó Dhia oraibh & the invouiable greeting is Brighidh 's Muire dhiut. The fact that the name of Brighid is put first is no slur on the B.V.M. It is in accordance, dar hom, with the with the Irish language, wh. like Latin, gives priority of place to the first person (grammatical). What greater honour could possibly be given to a native saint than that her name should replace that of God in popular salutations"]
Miss Ryan: When [?] girrse 's we picked the [?] in Páirc na Ruisilí (ainm páirce i nGlas-Drom) every St Brigid's Eve & got our father, God bless his soul) to make the crosses for us. I am afraid that there are a lot of people who don't get St Brigid's ribbon blessed now-a-days. You put out a ribbon, a piece of linen or calico or anything like that the night before. Hang it on the back door or on a hook if there's one handy, & the ribbon will be blessed in the morning. You should leave a shief of oats on the door step & leave a cake of bread on it, or a piece of a cake. That ribbon

-- "and, behold, the crow - on the rock and the rain came and washed it away. So shall your sins be washed away. I heard a voice from Heaven -------
"Bad luck to your soul' says Den Boy Hayes. He was up on a tree over the grave. "I am nearer to Heaven than you and I heard no voice"
He got 3 months for it and only that the Magistrate had the bái for his father, it would have one hard with him, I tell you.
The Newport Whites are buried in Toom,too. Old Miss Newport died and placed in the vault. It was the custom that time to bury the gentry in all their finery. One of the workmen came back that day to rob the corpse. There was one ring he couldn't get off. What do you say if he didn't pull out a miodóg of a knife he had in his pocket and fell to cutting off the finger. Dhera, he gave a scream that w'd waken the dead and sat up in the coffin. Clancy carried her home and gave her to his husband. She had children after that and the Clancy's have a free house and the run of the place ever since"[This is no dubhairt sé dubhairt sé. It is an absolute historical fact. One of the Whites is Professor T.C.D. and another the Bank Manager at Nenagh at present ---- so do be careful]

Tom Carty - made clogs to order, and 'tis well Tom could time the time with his clogs.
Jamesy Hara - played on the bag pipes, at weddings dances, patterns and fairs.
Patch Skivington - was a thatcher of houses by trade.
Martin Mulvihill (Lacky) worked as a labourer for J. OBeirne at Curries.
My Grandfather and my father cut turf in the bog at Tredub and sold it at the markets held in Williamstown and Castlerea.
Mick Collins - after a hard day's work taught dancing (in the evenings) to the young boys and girls, with a hay rope on one foot and a straw rope on the other foot he put them through the different steps.
This poor man, (Mick Collins) - God rest his soul, is long since dead, and his family emigrated to America when the Ocean ticket was £2.10.0.
At that time Emigrants always carried in their little tin trunks, Holy water

Tis more than ten long years ago I bid a fond adieu
To those now smouldering in decay and, brother mine, to you;Though things looked bright beyond the main when I left old Dublin bay.
I now long to be home again with you in sweet Galway. I fancy now I often stray through woods and Valleys race.
Just as I did in days gone by when I was free from cure;
And when my daily toil is o'er each night I kneel and pray
For those fond souls, I'll see no more at home in sweet Galway.Though living in a beauteous land, most prosperous and free,
With golden mines and mountains race in smiling harmony;

Kilts and maidens in green,
And the patriotic actions and the smiles that I have seen,
Then to make the day were glorious Roman banners hung on high
Eucharistic flags were flying for the Congress time so nigh
Irelands voice was doubly speaking allied causes two in one,
While the lond [?] bands kept on playing soon too soon the night came on,
With Loc gCarman's IRA men marching back through Sallins Street,
Listening to the bagpipes playing listening to the tunes so sweet,
Turning homeward ah, I murmured quick too quick the time it ran,
While they played the "Boys of Wexford" and "John Kelly of Killanne"
Full of joy to overflowing, so delighted with each thrill,
As to soul inspiring music, vale
and glen did sweetly fill.
Cheers for Sligo and for Wexford, Cheers for

[10]
How throbbed my pulse, how shook my frame, what thrilling awe came oer me
As Breathless, lifeless, soul-less, lay that honoured clay before me,
In the dread presence of the Dead how went earth's hopes and pleasures
How my heart panted for the fount of never failing treasures.[11]
The grave is deep on Forest's side unmarked by cross or column,
Main's vain attempt to consecrate the sacred and the solemn,
The ash-tree waves her soft-green leaves, the daisy opes her blossom,
Where lowly lies the place of rest on earth's maternal bosom.[12]
As the beloved of latter days in converse sweet sat round me,
These pensive visions of the past upon the mountain found me,
So did I muse on Forth's sad side on that bright Summer morning

Our hearts within our breasts shall leap for joy;
In contemplation rapt our souls shall soar,
And gleaming light dispel our sore annoy.
All things on earth shall join to welcome thee;
Worldliness a while from toil shall cease
To listen to thy heavenly harmony.
And to thy promise of a lasting peace!
In thee is wrought the mystery of grace,
In thee the Saviour's birth hath taken place.On Their Return They Are asked what They saw. Shepherds! Whom have ye seen? Do tell us, and announce who hath appeared on the earth?- Office of Christmas Day.
O Shepherd, tell us why you left your sheep,
Unguarded and unattended on the plain?
Why hurried ye o'er mountain and the steep
With eager joy your breasts could scarce contain?

What thoughts of our kindred, what longings for home.
Our causes encircle wherever we roam.
Tho trappings of pleasure their beauty exhale,
Tho wander we ever Contentments glad vale,
Tho ways of the stranger be cheering and gay,
There's something still absent and keepeth away,
That cast a sweet sunshine on life's early day.Tho' but a lone sheeting encircled by plains,
And standing midst shadows of long rifled fanes
Those dark lonely ruins some pleasure had pour'd
By thoughts of the martyrs who died for the Lord.
And thus the soul living amid scenes like those
Is ever a hero gainst the souls seething foes,
For truth is within it and there brightly glows.Then blame not this longing this wishing for home
For this is the feeling of exiles who roam