Scoil: Carrowrile (uimhir rolla 10396)

Ar an leathanach seo

1. A Fairy Tale (ar lean)

   

   Roinn Roinn Postáil

   (ar lean ón leathanach roimhe)

   an’ they had docther after docther to thry ta find out what was the matther wit’ him. But deed ‘twas all no good, worse and worse the bloody little divil was gettin’ an’ divila inch he was growin’ no more than the tongs. Begad they say such was life, a holy torture to the poor craythers for about a half score years, till one day, be the hookie, when the father was goin’ to the forge ta get the horse shod didn’t the little buck sit up in the cradle an’ tell the father ta tell the blacksmith ta’ make him a pinknife out o’ one o’ the rods the blacksmith used ta make the nails out o’ that time, ‘cause there was no nails brought so they had ta make their own nails. But that’s gettin’ away from me sthory agin, Anyways he tould him ta tell the blacksmith ta go to a daly pool o’ wather an’ temper the blade o’ the knife in it. So begols doesn’t the father up an’ tell the blacksmith all his baby son tould him ta do wit’ the knife. “Damid!” says the blacksmith but that’s very comical; that boyos, let me tell you this much, is a

   (leanann ar an chéad leathanach eile)

   

   Tras-scríofa ag duine dár meitheal tras-scríbhneoirí deonacha.

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