Ballybrophy House. [On] the main road from Roscre to Kilkenny, to the South [sid]e of Borris-in-Ossory, Ballybrophy House is situated. There [are] several weird stories told about the house itself, but one [th]ing is quite visible to everyone that has occasion to pass by the [ave]nue leading from the main road, the lamp on his or her bicycle, [m]otor coach or any other vehicle he has, will go out without the [lea]st cause, and when he or she is passed by the avenue it [wi]ll light again of its own accord. Then, in the house itself, there is one room [an]d it is always locked up, and no person or occupant of [th]e house has courage to open it. In olden times they say a [gre]at chief shot himself in this room, and a footstep is heard [go]ing up the stairs to this room, and then silence again. I cannot verify these stories, but many [o]ne would not go in sight of the house, when once [nig]ht falls, as the saying is for love or money.

[the] same road from Roscrea to Kilkenny, on the [left] side about a mile further back, is the place called [Ba]llyheggidon. There is a farmer's house supposed to be [bui]lt on a fairy fort. Several people have heard very [sor]rowful music playing late at night, somewhere around [th]e house itself, and each one of them maintains that [he] stopped to hear what instrument was playing, and [th]e music stopped also. However, going back to the house, there is a [cer]tain window in it, and no occupant of the house is [ab]le to keep a pane of glass put in it, every time it is [pu]t in it, it is taken out again. Many people who would not believe [an]ything about the "Good People", or the story about [th]is house, go to see it for themselves, and then come [aw]ay again unable to explain the mystery.

ahead of us. Well about four miles I suppose, somewhere about four miles at this side of Castleisland there appeared on the roadside a hedge, several feet high, seven or eight feet high I suppose, a hedge, closely clipped and afther a little we closed up on the horses agin. I was guiding an' the man sitting on the other side o' the car put his hands across to pull up our horse, that he'd strike agin 'um. Afther a bit they turned an' they jumped in across the hedge into a place where 't is only a goose or a duck would travel. Neither a man nor beast would travel it, a swamp, a regular swamp, flew in across it. We saw no more of 'um. Well my father never saw the horses but he saw the hedge plainly. They appeared to be three horses to somewan of the party of us an' I thought there was four of them there. But anyway this looked very strange to us but we took no particular notice of it but we often spoke of it afther. My father used to say he couldnt see 'um at all because he was born at some particular hour of the day, in the daytime. In the middle of the day he used to say he was born an' that he

III. Agus rachad-sa Carraig amáireach. fol the dú, fol the dee, fol the di-rí-ó. Agus tabharfad cailín breagh liom. fol the dú, fol the dee, fol the di-rí-ó. Geobhaimid tríd an Blárnan. fol the dú, fol the dee, fol the di-rí-ó. Cuir fios ar sagart láithreach. fol the dú, fol the dee, fol the di-rí-ó. Cuir fios ar sagart láithreach fol the dú, fol the dee, fol the di-rí-ó. Críoch Pádhraich Ó'Briain Tigh Uí Mhathghamhna Drom an Althig Béal Átha na Gaorthaidh Co. Chorcaigh

I. o bhíos-sa lá i bPort Lairge, fol the dú, fol the dee, fol the di-rí-ó. Bhí fion is puins is clár ann. fol the dú, fol the dee, fol the di-rí-ó. Bhí lán a tighe dhe mná ann. [fol the dú, fol the dee, fol the di-rí-ó. Agus mise ag ól a sláinte. fol the dú, fol the dee, fol the di-rí-ó.] (faoí dhó) II. Agus d'éaluigh bean ón Rath liom. fol the dú, fol the dee, fol the di-rí-ó. Agus trúir ó Thiobrad Árann. fol the dú, fol the dee, fol the di-rí-ó. Ní raibh a muinntir sásta, fol the dú, fol the dee, fol the di-rí-ó. [Ní raibheadar acú leath sásta, fol the dú, fol the dee, fol the di-rí-ó.] (faoí do)

an diabhal sin a ruaigeadh as an teach seo, acht go nuige sin caithfidh sibh cur suas leis agus lóistín a thabhairt dhó". D'imthigh cúpla seachtmhaine thart is tháinic mo shagart abhaile. Cuireadh fios air chuig an teach seo is nochtughadh chuile rud dhó í dtaobh an diabhal fhir uasail a raibh 'san teach seo i nár eirighe le aoinee é a chuir amach. Tháinic sé is a leabhar urnuigthe 'na láimh aige, las sé coinneal beannuigthe is thosuigh sé á léigheamh is mo dhuine 'san gcoirnéal. D'iompuigh sé thart is chonnaic sé aghaidh an fhir a' deargadh suas. Lean sé dhon léigheamh is ba ghéarr go bhfacha sé an lasrach teineadh amach as a bhéal is iorball mhór aige is é a' luasgadh anonn is anall. Ar deireadh thug sé boch léim amháin agus amach leis idir craiteachaían tighe ag fágáil poll mór millteach 'na dhiaidh. Ó shoin í leith ní thig le aoinne an poll seo a dhúnadh cébí díon nó tuighe a cuireadh air, acht, creid mise ann gur bheag cártaí a cuireadh ar bhord 'san teach sin óshoin i leith. Fuaireas an sgéal seo ó Cáit Uí Mhaoir, Cnocha, Co. Mhuighóe.

thuit cártaí ón fear uasal is rith girrseach is thóg sé suas íad agus b'fhachas dí go raibh an 'cloven foot' aige. Ghabh fearg is faittíos í agus nochtaigh sí a sgéal dá mháthair (máthair). Nochtaigh a máthair dá fear é is rinneadar a seacht ndicheall é a chuir amach acht ní thig leobh, ní rachaidh sé amach go mbéarfaidh sé rud éigin leis. Cuireadh fios ar na Póilínibh is tháinic sluagh mór acu chun bhealaigh. Isteach leobh. "Céard é do ghnó annseo, amach leat nó cuirfidh mé lán an bharraile seo trí do choirp". "Déan Iarracht air má tá tú abálta creid mise gur beag seans dhuit mise a chuir amach as seo" adeir an duine uasal má b'fhíor dó fhéin. Tharlaigh go raibh cataloiceach cailín 'san teach is d'ordauigh sí an sagart a thabhairt. Tháinic an sagart chuaidh sé isteach acht ní raibh aon mhaith ann "ní thig liom tada a dhéanamh leis nó mó lámh a fhágháil air" ar seisin, acht an chéad sagart óg a bhéas 'san paróiste tig leis

a' beiriú. "Tóg anois braon dá cuid anuirthe" arsan mac críona lé na drifúr. Do thóg. "Túbhair do Sheán anois é," ar seisean, "bologam dho." "Dhere léun go brách air," arsa Seán. "Níor dh'ólas-sa riamh is ní chaitheas a' saghas san," ar seisean, "in Éirinn." "Ná bac san," ar seisean. "Ólfam-na it' dheabhaig é." Do fuair sé é agus do dh'ól sé dhá bhologam do agus agus do stad an dá dhritheár agus do bhíodar a' féuchaint ar Sheán na Sgraige. Connus a thaithníonn sé leat a Sheáin?" arsan mac críona. "By Gorr," arsa Seán. "N'fheadar-sa cé h-é tú fhéin in aochor," arsa Seán. "Ní cuín liom riamh tú dh'fhiscint."

Bhí clann áithrithe a mhair í bPort Lairge, protústúnaigh a b'eadh íad agus a seacht sinnsear róibh (romhaibh?). An oidche ar chuma ar bith tháinic fear uasal isteach is é gléasta í gculaith breagh sioda a leithéid nár bhfachadar le na mbeó. Níor bheannaigh aoinne isteach é mar ní raibh fhios acu cé bhí ann, acht, rug sé fhéin ar chathaoir is tharraing sé suas chuig an teine é is rinne sé suidheachán compórdamhach dhó fhéin gan chur isteach nó amach ar ceachtar acu. Í gceann sgathaimh d'fhiafruigh sé dhe fhear a' tighe cluiche cártaí a imirt leis. "Tá go maith" adeir fear a' tighe "is fada anois ó bhí a leithéid á'm (agam) ó fuair mo shean athair bás go ndéanaidh Dia trócaire air" ar seisin. Leis sin tharruing sé chuig an mbord is an fear uasal ós a chómhair amach. Fhad is a bhíodar ag imirt

families furncifvally.

3. boiling in the ordinary way. I have not heard of any cures from eating the flesh but the blood is put on to cure pains or aches and some times people eat it with salt to get rid of illness. 4. The story of the woman who grudged St. MArtin the hen and the hen died ( No mills here ). 5. The bird killed was usually a cock and so got to be known as St. Martin's cock. 6. No locals wells are called after St. Martin nor is there any place. 7. The name is not as common as Patrick or Johiv for example and is to be found in the Power and Quinlan

Martin." When Saint Martin's night came the woman caught the hen. The hen had an egg and the woman said it would be a pity to kill her and so she didn't. When the woman got up the next morning the hen was dead.

St. Martin's night comes on the 10th November. When that night comes the people kill a duck, a hen, or a goose in honor of Saint Martin because on that night Saint Martin was martyred. Long ago people used to kill sheep, lambs and cattle but now they only offer hens, ducks and geese. When the victim is killed the Sign of the Cross is made inside the door for Saint Martin's protection. The blood is left remain on the door for a year, and when the year is up it is put on it again. People kept the blood in a jar becasue there are many cures in it. It would cure cuts, boils, burns and all sorts of sores. There are many stories about St. Martin's night. There was a woman once and she had a fine big fat hen. She used lay an egg every day and this old woman used be always saying "I will offer up this big fat hen to St.-

The name Martin is not common in the parish, neither are any places called after him. The people keep some of the blood in a crock all during the year.

than the rest. When the fair day came the farmer was sick, and his workman had to go to the fair with pigs. The farmer's wife and the man planned to sell Saint Martins pig and to leave back one of the others, for it was better than the rest. On the way to the fair St. Martin's pig died and the man turned home. When the farmer heard him coming back he got up, and asked the man what happened. The man told him. The farmer filled with rage went over for his axe, saying that I will give two pigs to St. Martin hitting the other pig and killing her.

The Feast of St. Martin occurs on the 11th November. In this district no public honor is given to the saint, except that the people kill a foul commonly a cock while others kill animals. When the victim is slain the blood is taken and sprinkled on the backs of the doors in the Sign of the Cross. All the blood is not sprinkled beacuse the people believed that there is a cure in the blood. Some people say it was for a head ache and by morning it would be cured by making the Sign of the Cross on their forehead the pain would go away. The blood of the victim is sometimes called St. Martin's "blood". Some people say that the reason some thing is killed is on account of St. Martin crushed to death in the wheels of a mill. All mills and machinery are stopped on that day

St Martin was born in Tours in France. In Ireland Saint Martins night is honoured on the 10th November and his day is honoured on the 11th November. On that night a pig or cock is killed and its blood is spread around the house and its flesh is eaten by household. When a pig or a cock or animal would get sick the people of the house would promise if the animal would recover that they would kill it Saint Martins night. On one occasion when Saint Martin was on horse-back he met a tramp who asked alms of him. St. Martins having nothing to give him cut a big piece of his cloak a gave it to him and himself went half naked. A true story is told of a farmer whose pig got sick and he promised that if it recovered that he would kill it Saint Martins night. Time went on and the pig recovered and became finer.

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Nuair bha Criosda na balach beag, chaidh E aon latha a stigh de'n tigh-shaoirsnachd aig a Oide, nuair bha Naomh Ioseph an deigh fhágail. Chunnaic E an t-àite làn le luchain. Bha iad a ruith air feadh an ùrlair, a leum air a bhòrd-shaoirsnachd, agus a streap ris na ballachan, is bha'n t-àite a falbh beo leotha. Ruga Iosa air sliseag challtainn a thàinig a ruis friodha a bha an Oide a lochdrach. Sheid E i eadar a dha laimh, agus gu grad leum i na cat, a ghearr sìnnteag as deigh nan luch. Thug iadsan na tuill orra, agus ann an iomláin na mionaid cha robh ti ri faìcinn.

á luasca fhéinig anún agus anall, fear thall agus a' fear abhfus agus nuair a chonnacadar an fear breágh glan-bheárrtha suas age Seán na Sgraige : "Mhuise a dhuine bhocht," arsan bhean , "is fearr a bhí idti' riamh," ar sise, "an ndéunfá mo cheann a bhearra dhó-sa?" "Ná bearraig," arsa fear na cathaoíreach, " mar do bhí sí sin á rá dá bhfaghach sí teacht suas leat go gcuirfeach sí laistig do'n dteine thú." "By Gorr mhuise pé'n rud, adubhairt sí liom," arsa Seán na Sgraige, "beárrfai' mé do cheann-sa leis." Do fuair sé sisiúr agus cíor agus do bhearraig sé ceann agus do nig sí lá' agus a

'á cur chun siubhail dtí'n margadh. Bhí capal acu agus bhí sé mhála móra cruithneachta lán ar sa phota. Tá eirghe deas cnuic ó dorus a' sgiobóil mar a raibh a' t-ualach lár ar a gcapal aníos tímpal dachad rámhan de bhóithrn choiriceach go dtí geata 'n bhóthair. Pé stailc a bhuail a' capal go dtóga 'n donas pioc de'n ualach a bhogfadh sé. Tháinig buile 'gus uabhar ar Shéamus. Nior dhein sé ach breith ar phíce a bhí ann agus a' capal a bhualadh le h-iaracht de fé bhun na cluaise agus é shíneadh ar an láthair sin. "Sguiridh amach anois é," ar seisean leis na fearaibh. Dheineadar. "Seadh, saoraidh na carraí 'nois dom," arseisean. Shaoradar go mear agus sgannradh 'na gcroidhe mar cheapadar go raibh a' fear ar buile dearg. Sin fear a chuaidh isteach idir a' dá charra. Bhuail a' raothach treasna a shlinneáin agus thug a' pota agus na sé mhála cruithneachta san aníos a' cnoc agus amach ar a' mbóthar gan stad ná staonadh, gan chabhair ná congnamh ó aoinne. Amuigh ar a' mbóthar iseadh chuireadh a' capal arís fé'n bpota ach ní raibh aon strus ar 'á bhogadh á bhogadh an

"Dún do bhéul," arsa Fear na Cathaoireach. "Seo 'nois," arsa Seán, "sin iad na h-áirlimeintí aduibhrîs-se liom-sa thúbhairt chughat agus do mharuíos-sa an cat draoidheachta," ar seisean, "agus sin iad na h-áirlimeintí bhí 'stig sa lios," ar seisean. "Bhfuil siad agat a Sheáin?" ar seisean. "Táid", ar seisean. Thóg sé 'mach na seacht cínn d'áirlimeintí. "Táid siad agat a Sheáin," ar seisean, "agus is tusa dhéunfaig Seán saibhir. Anois a Sheáin," ar seisean , "cad athá déunta 'gat? A' mbearrais éinne riamh a Sheáin?" ar seisean. "Ní bhearras mhuise," arsa Seán. "Nuair a bhíos im' gharsún théighinn síos go Sráid na nGabhar (1) agus do bhímíst fhéin (1) Sráid sa Daingean.

uirthe agus nuair a bhí an fheóil a' rósta ar a' dteine do chuaidh Seán i lúib a' ghuirt a' leasa in áit go raibh raithineach ná raibh aon radharc air agus do luig sé agus do chlúdai' sé é fhéinig agus a' rann 'n-a láimh aige agus nuair a bhí an mairtfheóil[chaoírfheóil] a' rósta agus teine chreasa chuíthe do fuair a' cat draoidheachta blath[bolath] na feóla istig ansa lios agus dh'éiri' sé 'mach agus do shiúbhlai' sé claoí 'n leasa trí h-uaire agus chonnaic Seán é. "Ó Thiarna," arsa Seán, "tán tú ana-dhoimhinséarach," ar seisean. Bhí oiread beithíg ann agus do bhí sé siúbhal agus dtaobh ná feacai' sé duine ná daona do tháini' sé 'nuas go dtí 'n dteine agus do chuir sé a lapa ansa mholtachán agus thóg amach

St Martin was born in Tours in France. In Ireland Saint Martins night is honoured on the 10th November and his day is honoured on the 11th November. On that night a pig or cock is killed and its blood is spread around the house and its flesh is eaten by household. When a pig or a cock or animal would get sick the people of the house would promise if the animal would recover that they would kill it Saint Martins night. On one occasion when Saint Martin was on horse-back he met a tramp who asked alms of him. St. Martins having nothing to give him cut a big piece of his cloak a gave it to him and himself went half naked. Of true story is told of a farmer whose pig got sick and he promised that if it recovered that he would kill it Saint Martins night. Time went on and the pig recovered and became finer.

Nine nights and a night without counting from Halloween to St Martin's night. The Practice of still killing a fowl is kept on in the homes where the older people are. No difference is made about fishing or wheel turning A cock, hen or goose is killed by the woman herself. The blood is collected and after making the Sign of the Cross on the back of the door the rest is kept in the cupboard or on the dresser in an old cup or [jar] The sign on the door is never touched or cleaned off and is left to remain there. The flesh of the bird is cooked by

than the rest. When the fair day came the farmer was sick, and his workman had to go to the fair with pigs. The farmer's wife and the man planned to sell Saint Martins pig and to leave back one of the others, for it was better than the rest. On the way to the fair St. Martin's pig died and the man turned home. When the farmer heard him coming back he got up, and asked the man what happened. The man told him. The farmer filled with rage went over for his are, saying that I will give two pigs to St. Martin hitting the other pig and killing her.

snug, an' if they don't that we may.

"Ye done a horrid favour for me", says he. "Well", says Jack, "I'll come back sometime to see ye". Jack goes home, an' he goes to the lord's place where he was marrit, an' he tould them that he wouldn't sleep that night till he'd go down an' demand out his wife an' father from the mermaid. Jack wint down an' he demanded out the mermaid. He says, "I got the kays o' yer treasure, an' gimme out me wife an' me father". "Oh" she says, "give them to me". "No", says Jack, "not till I get what I want". So she handed out his father an' his wife. Jack wint home; brought his father home wit' him that night, brought his wife home to his own father's house the next day, so there they put in a happy time, had a great family an' lived

hunt, whin he killed the hare. Afther he killed the hare, he opened the hare, an' out steps a duck an' flew up in th' air. Jack turned himsel' into a parrot an' up in th' air afther the duck, an' ketched the duck an' brought her down, an' killed her an' opened her, an' inside o' the duck there was an egg, an' whin he opened th' egg, wasn't it the kays of the mermaids' treasure! Jack started back; took home his cows wit' him – the gintleman was in a state wit' him for killin' the boar – gev him all sorts of entertainment – wanted Jack to stop wit' 'im be hook or be crook. Jack says "No." "I have another job to do", he says, "but I'll come back to see ye". "All right" says the gintleman, "yer welcum any time ye come back".

"there's somethin' wrong for", says he, "these cows never had the same [amount of] milk before". "An' I'll go down in the mornin' before 'im, an' I'll get up in a three", he says, "till I see what occurs". The steward wint down, an' he got up in a three, an' whin Jack left his cows below an' [on] the good grass, he come back whistlin' an' he met the boar, an' they started an' they fought tell dinnertime come. An' wasn't the steward up in the three, an' they both separated for a rest an' doesn't he throw Jack down a leg o' mutton – to the lion. An' he devoured it, an' they started agin, an' he kill the boar, an' the minnit he kill him he took out his knife an' opened him an' out leps a hare. Turned himsel' into a greyhound an' after the hare; an' they had a horrid

cows out in the good grass, an' when he was comin' back the boar met 'im wit a horrid vingince [vengeance]. An' the minnit he did, Jack turned himsel' into a lion an' they fought antell near night, an' separated an' Jack went down for his cows. When he brought his cows home, every cow had as much milk is [as] two id have, an' the lord says "What must be up?" "He must have gev them great grass" he says, "today". Nixt mornin' Jack took his cows, an' wint off whistlin', an' turned them into the same grass; an' an [on] his voyage comin' back he met the boar. Turned himsel' into a lion an' they fought till evenin', an' no odds, an' they both had to quit. Jack wint out for his cows an dhrev them home, an' the lord says "There must be somethin'". "Well", says the steward,

treasure". "That'll be a horrid hard thing to get done", says th' oul man. "Ye have only wan chance in the world" he says "for that". "There's a lord lives up there, an' go to 'im as a cowboy, an' he'll be glad to get ye". Jack wint up an' he asked work. "Well", says the lord, "what sort o' work d'ye frequently [i.e. usually] do?" "I ginerally always wrought", he says, "as a cowboy". "Well that's the very thing I want", says he. "I never could have a cowboy now, I'm goin' to tell ye, more than a month. There's a wild bear in sich a forest – or boar; an' if ye go as far as him", he says, "he'll do away wit ye". "So", he says, "keep away from there". "All right", says Jack, "I'll surely keep away from him". Jack dhrev [drove] out the cows; there was great grass beyant the forest – "Ah", says Jack, "I'll put them out in the good grass anyhow". So he put the

[R. No 22 ends]

* omit. * Begin at – Next morning

the mermaid turned round an' bursted out the lake, an' brought the lady into it; so he was up, an' she was captured. So when he come home that night he says, "The second night upon the wan bed I'll never sleep, until I find out the ways [keys] o' the mermaids' treasure." So — "no" — "aye" *[Storyteller gets mixed!]* Next mornin' he started to tramp, an' he travelled away for two days. An' he come to a small house in th' evenin', an' he says — "Oh yer welcome Jack", says th' oul' man, "the king's son from Ireland". He says; "What's wrong wit' ye, or what happened?" "Well", says Jack, up an' tellin' th' oul' man everythin' that occurred wit him, "An'" he says, "I'll never sleep the second night upon the wan bed, till I get the ways o' the mermaids'

up to his waist, an' ducked him down again; took the plough an' pair o' horses, an' she went home murmurin'. [complaining] Next mornin' come, an' she got a harp, an' as grand music as the ball an' plough played, it was forty times as good – the harp goin' down to the lake. An' the mermaid put up her head an' ordered her out o' that. "Well", she says, "I have as much call to it as you". "Wan half o' this land is me fathers, an' th' other half is yours, an'" she says, "I have full as much call to it". "Well what d'ye want for the harp?" she says. "I want to see me husband", she says, "upon the palm o' yer hand in the wather". "Gimme up that harp", she says. Handed her in the harp, an' she put the husband upon the palm of her hand in the wather, an' he turned himsel' into a parrot an' flew away! So when he did,

"Ah," she says, "what d'ye want?" "I have as much call to this place" says the lady, "as you have". "Well I have a call to it", she says — "what d'ye want for the ball?" "I want to see", she says, "me husband's head over the wather". "Well that ye'll see", she says, "only gimme the ball." She gev her the ball, an' she held his head over the wather an' ducked him down again. The next mornin' come an' she got a plough an' a pair o' horses, an' started ploughin' along th' edge o' the lake when the mermaid put up her head. She says "Have ye a deed over [out of] this?" "I have as much call to it" she says, "mesel', as you". "Well" she says, "what d'ye want for the plough an' pair o' horses?" "I want to see me husband", she says, "to his waist in the wather". "Gimme them horses", she says, "an' that ye'll see". But him

she acquainted the father about it, an' Jack an' her got married. Lived very happy an' comfortable for a couple o' months, an' at th' ind of a couple o' months they were out wan day an' didn't they rise a hare. She showed them a bit o' sport – Jack turned himsel' into a hound an' after the hare, an' he never found till the hare run into the lake. Jack follit her in, an' in the latter ind didn't the mermaid put up her head, "Jack" she says, "I have ye at last." "Oh murder!" says Jack; "hard lines." The wife knew he was ketched be the mermaid – she didn't know what to do. But she goes down this day, an' she says – she had a ball, an' she began to play the ball, playin' the greatest music in the world round th' edge o' the lake, when the mermaid put up her head.

the parrot began givin' out yarns, an' the lady was horrid interested wit him. He stopped there for a week or two, or close an' it, an' in the latter ind she'd bring him out every day, an' he'd fly round a bit, an' come back. So this night didn't Jack turn himsel' into a man, an' [as] great humour as she was in wit the parrot, she got into better humour wit Jack. "Oh Jack!" she says, "is that what y' are now?" "That's it", says Jack; "a king's son from Ireland". "Oh", she says, "Jack", she says, "how did it come that ye got into a parrot?" "Well", says Jack, "I can make more use o' mesel'" he says, "than all that". "Oh Jack", she says, "maybe ye'd be my man". "Well it could happen so", says Jack. Passed an [on] for a time, every day he was in the parrot, an' every night he was in a man; so at th' ind of a fortnight

give him my strength; he can turn himsel' into a greyhound, an' there's nothin' ever run 'll ketch 'im'. "Well" says the lion, "I'll give 'im mine too. He can turn himsel' into a lion if he's ever pressed, an' there's not a baste in the forest 'll be able to fight him". "Thank yez all" says Jack, startin' away in great humour. Thravilled away for three or four days an' wasn't there a whole lawn tennis party out at a lord's place, an' Jack says whin he was passin', "I'll show them a bit o' sport" says Jack, turnin' himsel' into a parrot an' flew threw them. Them all got in a horrid way in any case, an' wan o' them ketched the parrot. Brought the parrot home an' put him in a cage, an' this lady took a horrid leckin [liking] to Jack – or to the parrot, an' brought him to her room durin' the night

an' whin he come down he picked out the big bones an' he pegged them to the lion; he picked out the small bones an' a little mate, an' he gev them to the greyhound, an' he kept all the nice mate for the parrot. So them all et until they were satisfied. "Well now" says the parrot to the lion, "how d'ye leck how the man divided it?" "I leck it great", says the lion. "I got what I could ate properly", says he, "an' got enough". "So did I", says the greyhound. "Well" says the parrot, "I couldn't complain, for he gev me a nice bit o' mate; are yez goin' to give 'im anythin'?" "What are ye goin' to give 'im yersel'?" says the lion. "Well I'll give 'im" she says, "the privelege of anytime he's in bondage, that he can turn himsel' into a parrot" she says, "an' ne'er a bird in th' air 'll ketch him". "Very good", says they. "Well" says the greyhound, "I can't do any more than

" Anois," adubhairt sí "nuair eireochaidh t'athair , cadé an lath-scéal a thabharfad-sa dh, cár ghabhais -se nó cathain tá do theach abhaile". "As scéal , a mháthair ," adubhairt sé, " is fuiriste dhuit-se sin a leigheas. "Tá's agat-sa agus tá 's agem athair go bhfuil úncail dómh-sa i gCorcaig agus abair leis nuair a chuirfidh sé an cheist chughat gur chuadhas 'a fhiosrúghadh". Do bhuail sé bhuaithi amach a 'dorus agus d'iompuigh sí sin a' déanamh a gnótha ar fuaid a 'tíghe. Ba ghearr gur eirig an ingean agus do cheistig sí an mháthair cár imthigh a dritháir. "N'fheadar,"adubhairt a 'mháthair, "cár imthigh sé agus isé mo thuairim dóchais ná feadair sé féin é, agus anois ," adubhairt sí leis an ingín,"ná bíodh trácht agat thairis, ach má fhiafruígheann t'athair díot cár ghuibh sé, abair leis gur chuaidh sé a'fiosruíghe d'úncail go Corcaig."

(a) This custom is now extinct. Two young men would be blindfolded and sent to the cabbage garden and each bring a head of cabbage to the house. Whoever brought a nice head would afterwards marry a nice girl and he who brought an ugly head, an ugly girl. (b) The following custom still prevails here. A cake is made and in the cake are put a thimble, button, rag, and a match (or any bit of wood). When baked, the cake is cut up and each of as many are present of the neighbors gets a piece. He who happens to get the thimble will marry a tailor, he who gets the button will remain a bachelor; he who gets the rag will be a widower and the match portends an early death. [This was recorded in Inishturk, Co. Mayo.]

Nine nights and a night without counting from Halloween to St Martin's night. The Practice of still killing a fowl is kept on in the homes where the older people are. No difference is made about fishing or wheel turning A cock, hen or goose is killed by the woman herself. The blood is collected and after making the Sign of the Cross on the back of the door the rest is kept in the cupboard or on the dresser in an old cup or [jar] The sign on the door is never touched or cleaned off and is left to remain there. The flesh of the bird is cooked by

Níor airigh sé, leis, go raibh muileann i mBaile an Mhuilinn (Baile Mhic Códa) aon uair ach d'fhéadfadh a leithéid a bheith san áit sin mar do bhí an t-uisge ann go raidhseamhail. Ta abha idir Bhaile an Mhuilinn agus Baile Uí Chríonáin agus d'fhéadfadh san muileann a thiomáint go breágh. D'aistrígheadh cúrsa na h-abhann san nuair a bhí cuid des na bóithre á ndéanamh. Tá páirc i mBaile an Mhuilinn agus tugtar Cúil an Mhuilinn uirthe. Ma bhí muileann ar an mbaile sin is annso a bhí sí. Tá sí chomh maith de pháirc agus tá sí i n-Éireann. Tá geata i n-aice an chrosaire i mBaile Uí Chríonáin agus sé an ainm a tugtar air sin ná Geata an Bhitheamhnaigh. Is amhlaidh a goideadh ím fadó ón té gur leis an talamh sin - Franncach ab eadh é - agus do chuireadh i bhfolach annso é . Fuarthas feircín ime ins na sgeacha ann tamall na dhiaidh san. Tá páirc eile ag an dtráigh thíos agus tugtar Páirc an Adhmaid uirthi. Tháinig adhmad isteach ann uair éigin le linn gála agus siné fáth na h-ainme.

Do bhí muileann ar an dtaobh so (thoir) de Mhainistir na Corann fadó, i n-áit ar a dtugtar Baile an Mhuilinn. Tá san ar an dtaobh thoir de Bhaile an Teampaill (thuaidh). Tá an muileann san na sheasamh fós ach tá sé díomhaoin leis na blianta. Bhí cruithneacht, eorna, 7rl. á meilt ann fadó. Bhí se ag obair le h-uisge. Ní cuimhin leis an seanchaide é bheith ag obair, ámhthach. Do bhí muileann eile ar an dtaobh thuaidh den Mhainistir, i n-áit ar a dtugtar Gort na gCrúdh. Uisge a bhí á thiomáint sin. Ní raibh an seanchaide san áit sin le blianta ach is dóigh leis go bhfuil an muileann na sheasamh fós, cé nár deineadh aon obair ann le suím fada de bhliantaibh. Tá sé suidhte i n-áit ana dheas. Dó bhí feirm thailimh ag an té gur leis an muileann seo agus do bhuaileadh sé a chuid arbhair féin leis. Níor airigh an seanchaide riamh go raibh muileann i nGleann an Mhuilinn aon uair, ná ní dóigh leis go raibh a leithéid ann mar ní raibh aon uisge le fagháil ann a thiomáinfeadh é. Ní raibh na muilte ach i n-áit go raibh flúirse uisge.

Fánaidhe de thinncéar abhí caithte ar thaobh an bhóthair, mar a théigheann tú soir go Inis Eoghnáin agus gnó idir lámhaibh aige. Bhí sean-fhear den áit go raibh Gaedhilg aige (.i. suas le thriocadh éigin blian óshoin ann) agus d'fhiafruigh sé de'n tinncéar cad abhí á dhéanamh aige. Eisean abhí go deisbhéalach agus b'é freagra a thug sé ná; - "Cois claidhe abhím-se, Ag piocadh míola Óm shean-bhríste 'S gach aon mhíol díobh Cómh mór le caora Agus iad ag rínnce Ar mo dhá ghiodáin."

O' Kate with Gods almighty help We'll set old Ireland free IV Then place my good scian in its shield Soon may its glittering seen Be stained with the blood of three who shamed our holy green. One lies a scóir perhaps no more You'll see spío geal mo crorde For I'm away to Sliab na mban To make old Ireland free.

O' Kate with Gods almighty help We'll set old Ireland free IV Then place my good scian in its shield Soon may its glittering seen Be stained with the blood of three who shamed our holy green. One lies a scóir perhaps no more You'll see spío geal mo crorde For I'm away to Sliab na mban To make old Ireland free.

Chorus:- For some the old handle blade but the ridfle brown give me For I'm away to sliab na mban To set old Ireland free. II The boys from old Tipperary town Are tremping new thro' Cahin & pad M'Guire & Seán Ó Duíbir They surely too are these. And big Ned Casey of from Grange O Kate you soon will see On spite of all those Saxon laws We'll make old Ireland free. Chorus:- III The boys of rebel Cork why Kate They are camped beside Clonmel The Limerick boys are on the field prepared for what & shell. And Wexfords best are on the road Led in by Seán McGuire

Kate hand me down my cóta mór for the wind blows cold & thrill & angry blows the winter blast Across the brown base hill. No more I'll wait for Tom M'Grath No beggard I will be While beasts & lands one wanted kate To make old Ireland free.

ollamhaitheas dá'r fheabhas." " Cuir bhuait do chuid aignis agus do lath-scéalacha", dubhairt Whitwold, "ach cuir amach é! ". Do bhí eagla a dhóithin ar a 'Segersúnach roime Whitwold mar bhí' os aige go maith nárbh aon ana bhuachaill é agus do thug sé dho an t-airgead. "Seo 'nois ,"adubhairt Whitwold , "tabhair leat aníos as a 'mbád do chriú. Táim-se chun a 'bád agus a 'méid atá innti 'bhreith ó dheas go dtí an C'reán." "Is iagórtach an scéal é sin ", dubhairt a 'Segersúnach . Is mó alluis sillte againn-ne ó imthígheamair indé." "Is cuma liom-sa ", dubhairt Whitwold, "dtaobh bhúr gcuid alluis agus ná tabhair a theille aignis dom." Do tháinig Muintir Néill ar a'bhfaill agus chuaidh Whitwold agus ceathrar nó cúigear d'á shaighdiúirí sa bhád agus bheir sé leis ó dheas go buan a' C'reáin í agus d'fhollamhuig sé theas ara shocracht í agus do bhuail sé teine

aon eagla do bheith orrtha. Tá morán Éireann do stuif mhaith errthi seo fós, agus d'fhágfainn-se annso í -bheadh a'bhliadhain fada aca chun bheith'á follamhú,ach ní h-aca bheadh sí ach age Whitwold agus cuirfeadh-sa Whitwold b'nisciún léi. Tabharfaidh-mé uair a 'chloig nó dhó dóibh chun í 'fhollamhúghadh". Do dhin a' Segersúnach rud air, agus nuair a chuaidh a ' Segersúnach isteach i gCúm A' t-Sleamhacháin , ní raibh bean ná fear ná go raibh scian [2] 'na gcroidhe t'réis na bpléar. "Anois, adubhairt a' Segersúnach, "dinidh imsníomh ", leis na buachaillí,"agus sáidhidh amach na báid. Tá an captaén an árthaigh amuic a 'fireach libh". Do bhí fonn is faitchíos orrtha. "Ní gádh dhíbh ", adubhairt a 'Segersúnach, "aon eagla [a bheith orraibh] "Ní chun aon díogbhála dhíbh do chur sé mise fé bhúr ndáin chun teacht amach." 2 Scian... sceón

Bhí fear bocht thiar i ndún chuinn fado shion is do bhí lán tighe de mhuirear air is gan puinn aige le tabhairt le nithe dhóibh mara bhfaigdis plaidi nó bairnig. Ní raibh luid den éadach féin ortha ach giobail. Seadh bhí an nodlaig a déanamh air is gan aon trúil le haon fhoírthint is n'feadair sé ead ba mhaith dho a dheanamh. Aon lá amháin do tairrig sé amach a chapaillín bán is a shrathar fhada is d'imigh sé air síos amach chún contae luimnigh. Do caradh isteach i dtig lá é is ní raibh istigh riomis ach beann. Do bheannuigheadar fhein don a chéile. "Cad as go dtáingír anios," ars an bhean. "Do thánga ós na flaithis anios," ars an fear "Ó a chroidhe deoil," ars an bhean. Mhaise

the king's son." He looked in and saw that the words came from a big black cat that was seated by the fire inside. Jack went in and warmed himself, for he was very cold. Then the cat said to him, " Jack, the King's son, go down to that beautiful room and eat your dinner; you must be very hungry." Jack went down, and there before his eyes was the loveliest room he had ever seen, and on the tables were all kinds of fruits and wines. Never before had Jack ruch a wonderful meal. When he had finished he went back to the fire where the cat was, and the cat said to him, "Jack, the King's son, what is your trouble?" So Jack told him of the lovely bird, and how he would get his father's palace and dominions if the he could find one nicer than his brothers. "Go into that shed,"

The Enchanted Princess Once upon a time, there lived a great king who had these cows. One day he called the sons around him and said, "whichever of you bring me the nicest bird I will give him my palace and dominions." The three sons started off to see which of them would get the nicest bird. They travelled until they came to a cross-roads. The two elder brothers went, one to the right and one to the left. The younger one, "Jack" started up a narrow path which led to a forest. He travelled through this for many fays until at last he came in sight of a great mansion. After a while, he arrived at the gate and went up to the door and knocked. The opnened and he was greeted with the words, "you are welcome, Jack,

evening falls In my strong an swift canoe And ever more that verdant shore Our happy home shall be The land of rest in the golden west On the verge of the azure sea. The moments the chant was ended Connla, before anyone could stop him, stepped into the crystal boat and which in a moment glided swiftly away and soon disappears into the mysterious west.

From druids and demons free The land of rest in the golden west On the verge of that azure sea A pleasant land of winding vales Bright streams, and verdurous plains Where summer all the live-long year, In changeless splendour reigns A peaceful land of calm delight Of everlasting bloom: Old age and death we never know No care or sickness or gloom The land of youth, of love and truth From pain and sorrow free: The land of rest in the golden west On the verge of the azure sea There are strange delights for mortal men In that island of the west The sun comes down each evening In its lovely vales to rest And though far and dim on the ocean'm rim It seems to mortal view We shall reach its halls ere the

the sea-shore a boat of shining crystal approached from the west. When it touched the land a fairy like a human being and richly dressed came forth from it and addressing Connla, tried to entice him into it. No one saw this strange being save Connla alone, though all heard the conversation and the kind and the nobles marvelled and were greatly troubled. At last the dairy began to chant in a very sweet voice: A land of youth, a land of rest A land from sorrow free: It lies dar off in the golden west On the verge of the azure sea A swift canoe of crystal bright That never met mortal view We shall reach the land in the fall of night In that strong and swift canoe We shall reach the land of that sunny strand

Connla and the Fairy There is a story told in the neighborhood, of how Prince Connla son of great King Conn the Hundred Fighter was carried off by a fairy from the western shore in a crystal boat to Moy-Mell. This story is about a thousand years old. One day as the store relates while the King and Connla and many nobles were standing on

2. To get a drop of water an put it boiling in a saucepan and get a pinch of tea and throw it against the water when it is boiling and give it to the person to drink as it is 5. Dogs of a person had a lump on their neck that they couldn't cure to get the first pup of the first litter and open the pup alive and put him to the lump and leave him to it as long as possible. To boil new-milk from the cow and put soap and sugar through it and put it to a boil as a plaster, it would cure it. 8. For children that used have a sorehead the used to get ivy leaves and sow them together in a cap and put them to the head. The só-pésrna was used for a pain in the stomach or a bad stomach to make you throw up. You'd pick a big fist-full between your two hands and boil it in water until it would be only one bowel-full and then leave the water cool and drink it. 3. If you get the white clay in the bottom of a bog under the turf and take a handful of it and win it with new milk and boil them up and give them

the Don School was procured in the hill adjoining the burial-place. During the work of the pit some bones of extraordinary size were laid bare, and then the work was discontinued. A very old tradition has it that the name of the townland was "Kilvonagh", and that the prevailing names being Cluain, the name in the course of time became Cloonboniffe. 2 The Church of St Bridget was erected in the sixties of the nineteenth century. It was proposed to have the church built in Cloonsuck to accomodate the people of Cloonean, which townland was then in the parish of Kilkeevin, the proposal fell through and it was proposed also to have the Church erected at Cloonfower which proposal was then not possible owing to the Sandford rule, than a law; that no "Papish Church or Papish School would ever be erected on the Sandford property" It was finally decided to erect the church

she herself plunged into the lake and bade a long farewell to O'Dowd. The yearning of those stricken children for their home, makes those seven rocks to bleed every seven years. It is said now that there are only six rocks to be seen. It is thought that later she brought the youngest to live with her in the deep, as she may have a special liking for him when he secured her lost garment for her.

power was gone, as they lay all in the mantle. The man hid the cloak carefully and brought the lady home with him and they were married soon after. There were seven children born for them. One day, the man resolved that he would hide the cloak in a different place as he was always afraid that his wife would find the cloak and she would go into the lake again and desert him. The youngest son saw him hiding this gorgeous mantle and he was so much astonished at its wonderful beauty that he told his mother about it and where his father concealed it. So he made the little boy to bring her that garment, that it was hers, which he did. Then she said to her seven children that they would have a day's out by this lake so they all went with her. She stood with them on a hill called, "Cnoc an-Crenia", struck them with her magic wand and changed them into seven rocks

Once upon there was an enchanting lake not very far from Attymass and there was mermaids seen and heard singing there. There was a man of the O'Dowds walking around it one evening and he saw something at the verge of this lake that he thought might be a person and he went as far as it and what did he find but a lovely lady asleep, wrapped in a lovely mantle and he took it off while she was asleep. When she awoke all her magic

"Ní fada b'eadh?" arsan Giolla. "Ní fada mhuise," ar seisean. "Dá bhfaghann dhá bhologam uisge bhuait," arsan capall leis a' ngiolla. "Táim-se dearabhuithe," arsan Giolla, "gan béulbach a bhuint as do bhéul-sa an dhá lá dhéug agus mhairfi' mé nú má bhuinim mé fhéin a bheith briste age m' bmáistir. Ach geó tú do dhóthain do lé n-ól má dh'ólann tú é agus a' béulbach id' bhéul." "Ní dh'ólas riamh," arsan capall. "Níl aon leigheas agam-sa ort," arsan giolla. Bhí sé mar sin dar na mháireach. "Stó mhuise," ar seisean, "níl ao' mhleán riamh agam ort," ar seisean, leis a' ngiolla bhí air, "ach," ar seisean, "tá an iomarca ualaig agat á

There was a farmer in this country one time called Liam Laimhe Laidir an' he was as strong as twenty men. He had to get a farmer's son every year for twenty years and any man that ever went to him wasn't seen again.

Ach leis a sgéal fhada a dhéanamh goirid, níor fhág siad an áit, go dteárn siad lá pósta. Tháinic sé abhaile go h-athasach go rabh 'n bean aige, agus thug sé cuireadh do'n t-aos óg na h-áitigh, a bheith réidh go mbéadh siad leis an bannise. Nuair a tháinic cupla lá roimhe ’n phósadh, dubhairt a nighean le na h-athair ins sa bhaile, go mbfhéidir gur ámaideach an rud a bhí sí ag 'ul a dhéanamh, ag 'ul a phósadh fear, nach rabh fhios caidé'n gléas beo a bhí air. "Tá tú mall, a nighean," arsa'n t-athair, "ba chóir duit smaoitiugadh ar sin i n-am." "Níl mé mall go fóill," arsa sise. "Tá mé in am mo sháith." D’imthigh sí, agus chuir sí oirthí culaith bean bhocht, agus d’fhág sí’n baile i n-am mharbh san oidhche, agus shiubhal sí léithe, ní théarn sí stad go rabh sí ar a bhaile seo, ag doras Phadaí Ultach. Ní rabh istoigh ach a shean-mhathair, agus d’iarr sí loistín go maidin. Eitean 5.2. Dubhairt a' t-sean-bhean go bhfuighead agus fáilte, an cineal áitigh a bhí aicí. Tháinic sí aníos agus cá bith sgraosán a bhí léithe, rinn sí sráideóg ins a choirneál, agus luigh sí síos ins sa t-sráideóg. Tamallt de'n oidhche, siubhail Padaí Ultach isteach, agus slat-bhallán, agus gallach ballán leis. Chaith sé ar an urlár iad, agus d’fhiafruigh sé dh'á mhathair cé

sí an-dóigheamhail. Agus bhí sé i ngéibheann mhór fághail amach, cé í fhéin, nó cá raibh sí ina comhnaidhe. Ní rabh duine ar bith le sin innse dó, agus chuir sé éadan cruaidh ar fhéin, agus chuaidh sé fhad léithe, agus labhair sé léithe. Dubhairt sé nach rabh aithne aige ar dhuine ar bith ar a' bhaile, agus gur mhaith leis duine ínteacht labhairt leis, a chuirfheadh thart tamallt de'n am. Dubhairt sí nach rabh dadaí ag cur buaidhreadh orthí-se, agus go dtiocfad léithe tamallt de’n lá a chuir isteach leis. thug sé isteach i dteach taidhbhirne í, a rabh ’ach uile shéort a dhíol ann, agus thug sé cé bith a tháinic léithe ól daoithe. Ar dheireadh nuair ba mithid leis, a bheith tarraingt ar an bhaile araist, dubhairt sé léithe, a mbeadh fhios aige go mbéad sí ar an aonach mí ó’n am sin, go dtiocfad sé ann araist. Agus dubhairt sí cinnte go mbeadh. Tháinic sé abhaile agus b’fhuide leis nó bliadhain, go rabh an mhí thart araist. chuaidh sé ’un aonaigh, bhí sí ar an aonach roimpí agus fear dóigheamhail a siubhal léithe. Thug sí aithne dó ar an fhear, agus dubhairt sí go b’é h-athair é. Thug sé ’n beirt isteach i dteach taidhbhrne, agus “thrachtaib” sé iad. Bhí rud le h-ithe agus le h-ól aca. Ar dheireadh na nghnoithe, dubhairt sé le n-a hathair, gur mhaith leis ’a dtugadh sé dó a nighean le pósadh. Dubhairt a t-athair má bhí sí fhéin sásta go rabh seisean ró-shásta

Padaí Ultach. Séamas Ó Casaide Bhí buachaill annseo an uair amháin, ar a bhaile seo, agus ní rabh aige ach é fhéin agus a shean-mhathair. Ní rabh talamh nó tráigh aca, ach bothán beag toighe. Ní raibh aon ghléas beo air, ach ag iasgaireacht. Smaoitigh sé lá amháin, go rachfadh sé go h-aonach Árd a' Ratha, go go gceannaidheadh sé sé líon, fá choinne gléasarthaí iasgaireacht a dhéanamh, sin dorgaí, agus líonta. Chuaidh sé ’un aonaigh, agus nuair a fuair sé an rud a bhí a dhith air, bhí sé a siubhal thart, agus ní duine ar bith dá rabh ar an aonach, a raibh aithne aige air, a labhairfeadh sé leóbhtha. Chuaidh cailín óg thart leis, agus dar leis go rabh

Is 'na dtig a deireadh a' sagart an chéad Aifreann gach ao' mhaidean Domhnaigh. Bhí ana-chlú ar Shéamas i dtaobh a nirt agus a réiceamhlacht, Ní dhéineadh sé pioc sa bhaile ach ag imtheacht gach aon lá ag iasgaireacht agus a' rás agus a' gabháil dos gach aon spórt agus cleas dá mbíodh ar siúbhal san áit. Bhí rás bád acu i n-Eochaill lá agus bhí Seamus ag iomar' i gceann acu. Bhuaidh muintir Shéamais a' rás ach deallraighean sé ná raibh ó fhuirinn a' dara báid é thabhairt dóibh. Dh'eirigh eadtora agus san argóint dóibh léim Séamus amach ar a' dtráigh, rug sé ar lomadh ar bhata rámha bhí 'ge. - agus bataí rámha fada, troma bhíodh sna báid sin acu - agus bhí 'á chasadh tímpal a chinn mar a dhéanfá le bata beag láimhe, agus dubhairt leis an ndream eile dá dtiocfadh gíog eile as a mbéal go sgiobfadh sé an ceann des gach aon diabhal fir acu. Bhí gach aon fear chomh ciúin le luich agus ar mh'anam gur b'iad a bhailigh leo go maol chluasach. --------------------------- Bhí Mac Aoidh lá eile agus bhí cruithneacht acu

Séamas Mac Aoidh Timpal cheithe fichid bliain ó shin bhí fear gur bh'ainm do Séamas Mac Aoidh 'na chomhnuidhe i nGleann a' Mhuilinn - baile fearainn athá i bParóisde Bhaile Mhacóda. Bhí mac a dhriothár san áit chéadna go dtí a bhfuil le dhá bhliain déag. Maireann sé sin fós thuas i n-aice le Caisleán ua Liatháin. Bhí feirm céad acra ag Seamas so agus ag a dhriothár agus daoine "móra" ab ea iad.

The fairies are said to fight at night. In lonely glens and valleys. A white starchy substance is often found in late autumn and in winter. It is called fairy blood and is found on the grass.Sometimes a large pool of it is found together. It is supposed to be the blood of the fairies and is said to heal any sore to which it is applied.

A story about two brothers In the townland of Cornaroy lived a family named Devine, who were Protestants. An advertisement appeared in the Daily Independent for two shop assistants in the town of Roscommon. The two Devine boys replied to the advertisement and were accepted for the positions of shop assistants. Their boss was named O'Toole and a Catholic, so was his other four assistants. The Devines after a few weeks in their new position began to think that the boss did not want them, and that they might be turned home at any time. The boss used to call in the four Catholic boys into a private room every night, and give out the Rosary, whilst the two Devine Brothers used to wait outside. I wonder said one of the Devines to the other, does the boss and the four Catholic boys be talking about us every night when they go into that private room. One of the Brothers volunteered to remain concealed near the private room, to

trout, but 'tis seldom they used do that. Well about the month of July and August a whole lot of fellows used make dabs, and go dabbing for eels. The way they used make the dab was, they'd get a big lump of worms and son was thread in and out through them. There would be no hook at all used. Then they'd have a line out of that, tied on top of a long stick. When they'd leave that down in the water, maybe you’d get two or three eels each times, the thread used hey caught in the eel's teeth and he couldn't let it go. (In Cork they call that "bobbing" for eels. A "Bob" they call the bait) Then another way for catching eels, was what they called "niggling" - "niggling for eels." A fellow would fix a hook on top a stick, about five feet long. He'd go along and he'd prod that in under the bank, and into little holes and corners. Often I seen damn fine eels caught that way. (In Kilworth, Co. cork, when we were young we used fish for eel with forks. Under the eye of the bridge over the Funcheon, at Maryville mill, we used catch hundreds of eel. It was a general pastime then in the summer time. They also use the hook on the stick - they call it a "stroke-all" zoc.) I saw them wan time, down in Campile, and what I seen them fishing with was a

Bealoideas ó Baile na Buaile. Eamonn Mac Gearailt, Baile na Buaile d'innis dom. Bealtaine 1939. Poaching - the used do an awful lot of poaching after salmon around this place long along. They do it still, but not quite so much now, as about 30 years ago. They used have a torch and a spear after them. The torch was made from, a straight piece of deal timber, and a bag wound around the end of it, with plenty oil in it. The river there under TinnyCarrig, any amount of salmon come up there to spawn in the winter time. There was a crowd of fellows there at the Bridge of Ballynaboola wan night and the peelers come on 'em. But faith they didn't catch them. They threw the two of them in the river and then hooked it; and they were never found out. Then they used make weirs in the river. Build up across the river with stones; and they leave a gap in the middle of it. Then they'd put a net across the gap, and they'd try and hunt the trout down into it. Then they used have another plan They'd get a bag and put a round hoop on the mouth of it, and a long handle out of it. Then they would put it in by the bank; and wan fellow would have a long stick and start prodding in under the bank, trying to hunt the trout into it. Then they used throw line into the water in order to kill

Conachúr an bád beag a' teacht seo síos fé bhráid a' bháid é agus do bhí a mhac, Conachúr, i ndeire 'n bháid age'n gCaptaen. "Connus tá 'gat ó shoin a Chonachúir ?" arsan Captaen. "Tá do mhac anso 'nois agat," ar seisean, "agus é níosa freátha [bhreághtha] go mór d'fhear na bhí sé 'gat," ar seisean, "agus scaoil liom-sa ar feag blian' eile é." "Ní sgaoílfi' mé," arsa Conachúr. "Geoir dhá chéud anois," ar seisean, "ach é ligeant chugham i mbliana," "Tóg a' t-airgead," arsan mac leis an athair. Seadh do bhíodar fhéinig ag gabháilt dá chéilig

bhí fear bocht thiar i ndún chuinn fado shion is do bhí lán tighe de mhuirear air is gan puinn aige le tabhairt le nithe dhóibh mara bhfaigdis plaidi nó bairnig. Ní raibh luid den éadach féin ortha ach giobail. Seadh bhí an nodlaig a déanamh air is gan aon trúil le haon fhoírthint is n'feadair sé ead ba mhaith dho a dheanamh. Aon lá amháin do tairrig sé amach a chapaillín bán is a shrathar fhada is d'imigh sé air síos amach chún contae luimnigh. Do caradh isteach i dtig lá é is ní raibh istigh riomis ach beann. Do bheannuigheadar fhein don a chéile. "Cad as go dtáingír anios," ass an bhean. "Do thánga ós na flaithiv anios," ass an fear "Ó a chroidhe deoil," ass an bhean. Mhaise

Sunday is supposed to be a very lucky day of the week, even a child who is born on a Sunday is also supposed to be a very lucky child.

Íde Clainne Mhóire Bhí triúr clainne aige Móire fadó shin agus b'é a n-uncail Aristeaitil, agus níor bhain aon rud riamh cothrom d'Áristeatail.

The Care of Ducks. Duck eggs are hatched the same time as hen eggs, and in almost the same way. It is very seldom that people put a duck hatching her own eggs. It is mostly hens that hatches them. It takes duck eggs four weeks to come out, and in acount of the extra week, a hen should have good hatch before she is put down on duckeggs. It is believed that the blue duck egg is the best for hatching and for that reason people who are hatching eggs are very anxious to get blue eggs. It is not any harm to wash duck eggs before they are put under the hatching hen, in fact some people say it is very good to have them washed. But hen eggs should never be put into water before they are hatched because if they are, people say the germ is destroyed in them, and they wont bring out birds.

Fadó nuair a bhearrtaí ár gceann, bhaileómíst an ghruaig agus chuirimíst i gciomád í. Bhíoch na sean-daoine á nisint dúinn go gcaithfimíst teacht agus sin a bhailiú ar a' saol eile. N'eicín anois á dhéana' a chuigint é le fada.

on the house for the year. May Eve. An iron should be put into a well in which two or three are joined so that the cattle would not die. One should remain up on May Eve to be the first to take water from well on May morning. The first person is supposed to have all the produce for the year of the others going to the well. One should bring in a branch of whitethorn before sunrise to bring in the summer. Anyone subject to freckles is supposed to go out and wash in the dewy grass before sunrise on May morning. No one gets married in the month of August

a chuid fola a' pléasgadh as a thaoibh, 'S a Rí ghil na cruinne nú 'n féidir An brón so do réidhteach gan mhoill? V Tiocfaidh Mac Muire 'na lonnradh Chun breithe do thabhairt ar gach sórt, S níl anam dár cheapadh ná . chúmfars Ná go gcaithfidh siad túirling i gclódh. Lasfaidh an fharaige bhrúchtach, 'S silfidh gach dubh charraig deoir 'S nuair a shinnfidh a' t-aingeal a' trúmpa Sin gach anam 'na chomh-cholainn chóir. ----------------------------------------------- Tá a seacht déag de bhlianta anois ann ó sgríobhas an t-amhrán so thuas. Ní raibh puinn ceoil a' gabháil le Muiris ach bhí alán des na sean-amhráin aige. Bfearr go fada chun na sgéal é. Ba chanta 'n sgealuidhe é Ní bhíodh oíche tóraimh sa chomharsanacht ná go mbíodh súil gach aoinne anáirde leis chun é dh'aireachtaint a' fianaidheacht. Ach dá fheabhas é ní raibh ao' bhreith aige ar a athair - Seana Dháth - N raibh a bharr san de sgéaluidhe sa pharóisde. Cé gur fada dho fé'n gcré thá ana thrácht fós air féin agus ar a sgéalta (M.Ó F.)

An old man was waking near the village of Boherbue on one occasion. The friends and neighbours weer present, and some were sitting about the fire. The old man's wife was also sitting near the fire. After awhile one man threw in a few sods of turf. "That's right" said the old man's wife, bestirring herself, "Jack always liked a bit of the fire — [?], everlasting fire of his soul!"

Bhí fear bocht thiar i ndún chuinn fado fhoin is do bhí lán tishe de mhuirear air is gan puinn aige le tabhairt le nithe dóibh masa. bhfaisuig. Ní raibh lud den éadach fein opcha ach giobail. Seadh bhí an nodlaig a déanamh air is gan aon i rúil le haon fhoírithint is nfeadair ré ead ba mhaith dho a dheanamh. Aon lú amhain

A cock crowed at the door it is a sign

Rafters of their people’s houses offerings are made on Nov 1st to the priests for special masses for the dead. And each one gives according to their means. Nov 1st is an obligation and called All Saints Day. The second of Nov is called All Souls Day and tho not a holiday there are masses said in every church for the dead in general and also for the souls of the people for whose souls offerings were made by their friends. The “ Church” also grants special indulgences to or for prayers said on All Souls’ Day in a local church or cemetery. For every visit to a church or cemetery and for every prayer said on that day for the dead and with the intention of Our Most Holy Father The Pope there are very great indulgences. A “visit”on these occasions may mean, every time we enter a church or cemetery even though we only go outside the church preanits to return again.

Halloween Night. On all Hallow Eve night when we were young we had to stay up until Twelve o’clock to eat an apple. You have to eat an apple and keep looking up at the looking glass at the same time. While you’d be looking at the mirror, and eating at the same time, the man you were going to marry was supposed to come and look over your shoulder, and you’d see him for a moment in the glass. It was often said that the “ Ould Boy “ ( the devil ) used to come out and look over the girls’ shoulder. We need to have terrible fuss about it anyway.

A Funeral Met at Night. “ We’re going Home. ” About ten years ago my father was going to Kenmare fair with higs. As he was about 5 miles from home - ‘‘twas about one o’clock at night - he met a funeral coming along the road. There were women at the front, about 4 women or 5, and a lot of people afterwards. As he was advancing about 3/4 of a mile of the road, he met horsemen and one man in particular he noticed, that he was a local man as he thought. He had whiskers. He asked this man: “ Where, in the name of god, are you going at this hour of night? “ “ We’re going home, “ said the man. Jeremiah Harrington ( 53 ) Deen Guaealla Luaiz Ō Siofza Told on Eoiphone 3 . 1 . 35

The only way I could do this was if you had to do the whole process and just do a few things like the one I have in my house that you have done in your house that I have been working with and then you can just put them on your house or something and I could just put the other stuff on there if that’s all you need and I could put the other things on the list that I don’t know about that you can do whatever I want to but you can just put whatever I want and I’ll do what you need to and I’ll just have the same time and you just do what I need and I’ll be done whatever I can just let me and I’ll do what I’m this was a good idea and a good one to start off with but I think I need to start with the first one and then the second one and then I will start with the second one and then I’ll start with the third one and then you can start with the fourth one and then you can just start with the fifth one and then you can just go from there 6767676767

St Martins born in tours in France. In Ireland saint Martins night is honoured on the 10th November and his day is honoured on the 11th November. On that night a pig or cock is killed and its blood is spread around the house and its flesh is eaten by household. When a pig or a cock or animal would get sick the people of the house would promise if the animal would recover that they would kill it saint Martins night . On one occasion when Saint Martin was on horse-back he met a tramp who asked alms of him . St Martins having nothing to give him cut a big piece of his cloak a gave it to him and himself went half naked. Of true ,story is told of a farmer whose pig got sick and he promised that if it recovered that he would kill it Saint Martins night. Time went on and the pig recovered and became finer.

This is one of the many customs practiced formerly on the eve of All-Hallow. A young man (or woman) having found a briar with both its ends growing in the earth passed under the briar three times, (without pulling it out of the earth): when this was done he measured three sections of the briar, each section measuring from the tip of the thumb to the tip of the long finger of the outstretched palm: the three pieces were then taken home, and were placed under his pillow before retiring. Should he dream of any girl during the night she was to be his bride. My informant saw this old custom being practiced here in this district. [Recorded from Michael O'Brien (80), of Knocknahaw, Moyard, North Connemara.]

Amhráin na Sean daoine Na seana amhráin do ghrádhaig na seaeht sinneir do

A poor widow There was a poor widow long ago, and she had three sons. The first day the three of them went to school together.

11 'S a pheacaidh, déin machtnamh 's musgail 'S glaodhaidh ar Mhac-Mhuire na h-óighe, 'S seachain-se peaca na drúise 'Gus mealladh gach dlúth-chailín óig. Beidh a' t-aingeal go minic ar do chúram 'S Banríoghan gheal, mhúinte na h-óighe, 'S go mbfearr iad mar charaid lá 'n chúntais Na cailín deas crúidhte na mbó. 111 Mo dheacair! mo dhanaid! mo thuirse! Cad a dhéanfaidh lucht drúise 'gus póit, Lucht masla do thabhairt do'n Úr-Mhac A' spalpadh na mionn 's ag ól? Mar a mheasaim ní slachtmhar a gcúrsa 'S is aindis a dh'Fhúigfears iad fós Gan dearmad i ngradam an Úir-Mhic Mar a gcasaid le dubh ghol 's brón. IV Féach-se ar an Sácraimint naomhtha Do fuair a' cine daona le roint, Sinn a shábháil ó sglábhuidheacht a'tsaoghail seo, 'S ar Ifrean saor sinn gan mhoill. Ar a gcrois do cheannuigheadh go daor sinn

She said that, on a May morning, she saw the Fastnet (island) floating along the mainland. Tradition has it that the Fastnet goes to visit her aunt in north of Ireland on May mornings. However, when lighthouse was built on the island the enchantment died out.

There was an old woman who lived in Long Island, in Schull harbour.

for anybody to take butter from another in the manner referred to. Strange to say, women were considered exclusively responsible for taking butter. Men were never considered responsible for it.

There was an old woman who lived near the narrator and it was said that she used to take butter. The narrator, however, does not think so. In fact he never believed that it was possible

About the year 1790, there came a very dry summer. It was called the dear summer. Tobacco cost one shilling per ounce.

Cutting from Irish Independent If You Watch To-day Yesterday lakelets of deep turquoise lay amid piled snowbanks of cloud, and drowsing winds scarce turned the last Poplar leaves so that the mellow sunlight might be shaken from their polished surfaces, and shore birds screamed their pleasure above the weed-strewn sands. It is St. Martin's Summer, mysterious period of sun and storm, of seas that are rich with fish, and land where grass and grain and tree are beginning a new year of fruitfulness. Before the first lamp of Christianity was lit here this date was an ancient Pagan festival, and though St. Patrick consecrated it to Christianity old superstitions and beliefs stir uneasily at its name. People were supposed to kill some animal as a sacrifice and sprinkle the door posts with its blood, and in Wexford no fisherman will dare the sea on St. Martin's Eve since a century ago a whole fleet was lost because it defied the old tradition. On withered potato haulm and sturdy green Borage the Autumn Gossamer - Old Lady's Threads - are again glistening, and a million tiny lives are on their aerial voyage to found new colonies. The long, lone call of the Curlew is heard above the moors in welcome or defiance of its migrant brothers, who are arriving from sterner climes than ours. - Fieldman. Sent in 15.11.39 By Mary B. Dunphy, ex.NT 69-70 Irishtown, New Ross, Co Wexford

consented to hear his confession in this position. The priest went on Eoghan's back so that he would not get wet. Then Eoghan began to tell all his sins and you may be sure they were many. They were so bad that the priest said to him - tá an Diabhal tíar ort, má tá arsa Eoghan "ní bheidh sé ann a thuille". He then threw the priest from his back into the flood and walked out of the river, leaving the priest to get out in the best way he could manage. Eoghan Ruadh was always able to do almost impossible tasks. In the neighbourhood was a rich man who had a male pig. This man was never known to oblige any of the local peopled with the pig. Eoghan put down a bet that he would come around the man and get the use of the pig for his sow. He went along the road with a sow in the direction of the rich man's place. Before coming to the house he met the man whom he was looking for and his name was Liam Ruadh. They began to talk and Liam Ruadh said to him "Cad as tú" agus "cá bhfuil tú ag dúl". Cuirfidh sir mise, go dtí sir tusa le sir muice go dtí sir coillig.

my long beard and hair? Very well said the man I will come here tomorrow at this place and I will bring a scissors and razor with me and give you a clean shave, and then you will look like any man. Farewell now for the present. So off he went to Mass. The boy counted the sheep once more, for he used to count them twice and three times a day sometimes. They were all there, and he got kind of hungry and went in search of something to eat. He found a big bunch of black-berries growing on a thick briar. So he passed the Sunday nicely until the day after and the man came punctual enough with his scissors and razor. He gave him a nice trim and a clean shave, and then he looked twice as young and thrice as good. He thanked him, and when the man was going he said he would meet him in the same place next Sunday, and to be ready for Mass. So the boy promised him surely he would, and passed the time as best as he could till next Sunday. True to his word the man was there and the boy was waiting for him. So they

Shortly after them came two more, and the boy asked the man where were they going, and why were they following one another. They are going to Mass said the man. Going to Mass! and tell me where is that place. It is not a place said the man, but a chapel where all the people come in to pray in the presence of God, and the Priest reads mass. And said the boy can everyone go there? Everyone can said the man that is baptized and practices the Catholicreligion. I am going now said the man, do you hear the bell ringing? That is the last bell and I have note much time. The last bell said the boy as he started to cry. Why are you crying said the man? I love to go to Mass said he and you said that was the last chance (time). Ah dry your eyes said the man I meant it was time for beginning Mass, as the second bell was rung. The clerk rings the bell twice namely an hour before the Mass begings, and a few minutes previously. And when will the next Mass be said the boy? for I cant go now in the state I am in with

This father Cavanagh I was telling you about, that made the wind change when Doran's house was burned: 'twas he that Hornick's father "bet" one day. Hornick bet (beat) the life out of him with a stick. He damn near killed him sure. There was a lot of the neighbours about the place and they were all mad to go and kill Hornick over it; but Father Cavanagh wouldn't let them. He told them to leave them alone. He said "every wan of them would go marked to the grave and they'll get it in the head too." And 'twas true for him some of them went wrong in the head and sure looked at Jackey Hornick the way he went. (Jackey Hornick of Kilgarvan, son to this man, was hanged in June 1937 for the murder of John Redmond.) Oh I'm telling you that a priest is a sore man to have anything to do with. The priests are "edged tools" all right, I'm telling you.

had promised. While he was praying going around the well, he saw a little fish in the water. It is said that it is a very good sign to see a fish. However when he had his prayers finished, he bent down to see the fish, but it was dead. In a short while after, my Mother, died, god rest her soul. To pay the rounds properly, it is said that you should follow the route the book took. For when St Patrick was coming in his journey from knockpatrick to andpatrick. He thre his prayer-book from a clump of trees near the Priest's house, and he killed it Ever since then, the serpent was never seen, The mark of St Patrick's prayer-book is still to be seen in [?] churchyard.

There is a blessed well in a field outside the graveyard in [?], and it is called St Patrick's Well. The pattern on feast is always held there on March 17th. Long ago, the ould people had a great faith in Holy Wells, and they used to pay round for headaches, toothaches, and all kinds of pain. It happened that my grandfather paid rounds at this well for my mother, who was ill at the time. This was a round he

The Butter cannot be taken until the mill has broken. When it is taken the milk usually forms into froth, an' in some cases, it is said that a person could hardly stand over the churn, because of the smell of the milk. In most cases, where the Butter is stolen, the buttermilk is not used, because of the smell also. I heard this sthory from me mother too (God rest her sowl), an' this musht be a very very ould wan for none o' the old people round about, ushed ta know it but hershel, an' she sez that she heard it when she was only a small caibu. Of Courche I

at home in comfort and happiness.

he threw down, she fired it up again. At last he got angry and taking one slate in his hand he tood a steady aim and hit her on the neck, and buried the slate in her skull. She staggered and fell and dropped dead. Now said he you wont fire up any more. And he filled his cart and brought it home to the King. The King was glad to see him coming, and he told him all he saw and what had happened. Then he roofed the Kings castle, and when it was finished, the King gave him a bag of gold as a reward for his labour. The man thanked him kindly, and when he was going the King told him to wait, and that he would keep him as long as he wished to stay. But the man said he would like to go home to his father, as there was no body with him but himself, and he set out homewards. The father was glad to see him coming, and they both lived happy together. He never asked to go back to the king, but married a nice farmer's daughter, and lived

é 'n uair chéudhna tháinig an buachaill a' triallaig ar a' muic agus má tháinig do bhí Seán i gcúinne 'n bhotháin agus do ghluais an buachaill isteach agus do bhí sé a' bagairt na muice leis. "Cá raghair léithe sin a dhiabhail?" arsa Seán, ar seisean. "Fág ansan í sin age 'n mbean bocht go léithe í agus liom-sa leis," ar seisean. "Cuir díot a dhiabhal," ar seisean, "nú shmiotfainn a' maide ort," ar seisean, "alfraits biothúnaig," ar seisean. Do bhris a' buachaill leis agus mise dhá rá leat ná ghá dho Sheán leath-oiread cúirimí ná cainnte chuir tharrais go raibh a' buachaill bailithe leis agus do chuai' sé 'bhaile agus do nis sé dho'n sagart an scéul agus do dh'fhan Seán mara raibh aige mar do bhí 'ios aige

about the 8th or the 9th of November. Gerard O Byrne, 7th. November 1939 (Jim Christopher, Benvoy. Aged 70. Michael Morrissey, Dunbrattin. Aged 55.

The 10th of November is kept in honour of Saint Martin. People kill a fowl on Saint Martin's night and put its blood in a jam-pot. They then sprinkle some salt on it and stir it for a while and put a cross on the door with some of the blood. If a person gets sick or meets with an accident some of the blood of the fowl is put on the wound. Anyone can kill the fowl. It is eaten afterwards. There are no words said or any ceremony performed when the fowl is being killed. Bad luck will not come to a person who does not kill a fowl in honour of the saint. Fishermen are forbidden to fish on Saint Martin's day but if the morning happens to be fine they may go out but they are almost sure to be caught by "Saint Martin's gale," because it comes on very suddenly. There are no wells dedicated to Saint Martin in this district. Martin is not a common name in this locality. There are no such expressions used as "Saint Martin's Cloak", "Saint Martin's Bull, or "Saint Martin's Cock." Saint Martin's gale does not always occur on Saint Martin's day. It usually comes

6th November 1939 Brigid Morrissey. Dunabrattin. Aged 50

Saint Martin's night falls on the tenth of November, but his feast day is held on the eleventh. He is supposed to ride a white horse on the sea that night. There is a yarn about that. This is it. A certain fisherman on St. Martin's night had to go out ifishing but he did not like to do so. WHile he was so engaged a great Storm arose and he was afraid of being drowned so he said that the only thing he could do was to shed some blood for St. Martin. He got out his penknife and cut his finger. As soon as the did so a white h orse ridden by St. Martin came beside the boat. The Saint offered the fisherman to get up behind him on the house. He did so and was brought safely to land. fishermen do not like to go fishing on Saint Martin's night or at any time near this date because there is always a storm on our near St. Martin's night. This sotem is known as "St. Martin's Storm." There is no [lace called after the Saint in this district. John O Byrne Bridid Morrissey Aged 50 Dunbratten

St. Martin's night is honoured locally. it falls on the tenth night of November. People kill an animal or bird and sprinkle its blood behind all the doors of the house. The killing is usually done by the woman of the house. While sprinkling the blood behind the doors the words used are : "In the name of the Father and of the son and of the Holdy Ghost. When the animal is killed and the blood sprinkled behind the doors the remainder of it is kept in a cup and a small grain of salt put in it to preserve it. This blood is often used to cure pains. The blood is allowed to remain on the doors until next Saint Martin's night. The flesh of the animal or bird is eaten. There is no cure in the flesh. It is only in the blood the cure is. It is said that the tenth night is the right night to kill the animal. People say that St. Martin fell into a mill and got ground up in it and all the mills in Ireland are closed that day. The Christian name Martin is not very common in this district. I know of only six. "Naomi n-oidce is oidce ganaireamo oidce Samna go dti oidce'l Martan." Jimmy Corcoran James Corcoran Kill. aged 76 7th. November, 1939

Just then a knock came to the door. The man went out and saw a horse and rider outside. He was asked to mount the horse and having done so soon found himself at his father's farm in Hacketstown. He was then told to fulfil his promise but on inquiring what he might kill was told that there was only a litter of bonhams in the place that were not fit to kill. He killed a fat pig. The marks of the horses hooves were said to remain on a flag stone at the threshold of this door and the rider was thought to be St. Martin. After living for some time in Hacketstown the man died and was buried in Newcastle near Carroll's Cross. The stone was removed from the threshold and laid at the foot of his grave and people say it is still to be seen there. Nellie Walsh 7th. November, 1939 Maurice Walsh aged 60 rathanny Carroll's Cross Kilmacthomas

adeir sé, gurb é fianach na muice duibhe sin atá ag pleasgadh, Nuair a thairring sé amach an mhuic ag á h-ithe - "fuiride, duiride deáine" adeir an cailleach. "Céurd sin ort a chailligh." "Biadh no comhrac" adeir sí. Caith sé ceathramadh de'n mhuc aici. Thairring sí tríd an ngríosa é, tríd an ngruasa, thríd na fiacla fada fuara: nior múide do bolg é agus nior luimid a béul é ní raibh fhios ar ith sí é no nar ith. "Fuiride, duiride, deáine" adeir sí aríst. "Céurd sin ort a cailligh". "Biadh no comhrac" adeir sí. "Dheamhan blas íosfas tú go deó de'n mhuc seo adeir sé acht tiubhrfha mise neart comhrac ar ball duit." D'ith sé féin agus a chú agus a each agus a sheabhac an chuid eile de'n mhuc agus nuair abhí sí ithte aige "anois a chailleach adeir sé tiúbhrfha mise comhrac duit." D'ionnsuigh siad a chéile agus bhí an cailleach a cur drábh ar. "Congnamh

The feast of Saint Martin is celebrated on the eleventh of November. This day is not a holiday of obligation and the usual work is done. There is an old custom of spilling blood on the eve of Saint Martin's day. In country houses at the present time the custom is carried out regularly. Sometimes if a pig is just fat and is required for use at home it is killed on Saint Martin's day. A fowl is more often killed and the blood or portion of it is kept in a vessel and there is an old belief that this blood when applied where there is pain will give relief. It is also customary to sign the door with a cross in honour of God and Saint Martin. This cross is not to be removed. It is said that if there is a delicate animal on the farm and if it is offered to St. Martin and if it gets healthy it must not be sold or else all other animals of its kind on the farm will pine away. This animal is called a "Martin." A story is told of a man who resided in Hacketstown near Portlaw and who emigrated to the U.S.A. Sitting in his home on St. Martin's night he remarked that if he was at home in Ireland that he would spill blood in honour of the Saint

offerings and living them to have on Sunday and he would do whatever he had to do for her love on sunday. anyway Eoin [?] at the funeral. The funeral started from Scallan and went to Kilskerry graveyard around 5 miles away. [?] a quarter of a mile on that journey Eoin told the camin to leave her down on the top of this big hill 'Leave her down' says he till she takes her last farewell of Scallan. When she took her farewell they lifted the Coffin and proceeded on their way & at last they come as far as Kilkenny at that time there was a public house at this place and here the funeral stopped and Eoin got out a table and lifted the offerings. He called them all out not by their real names but by their names in the County. The first name he called out was Eoin Miller Hc G nade 1/6 Owen's fealy was the [?] with 1/= Mickey the [?] 1/= Phil's Jerry 1/6 Eddie of the hill 2/= He called this very loud. When he had all the offerings lifted they proceeded to

There are numbers of people who are very "odd and peculiar in their ways." You meet those people from time to time. You will hear it said that such a person is "as odd as two left shoes"; such a man is "queer and off"; "he is very droll and peculiar in his ways"; "he's an odd FISH"; "he does some 'comical' turns"; "he's a droll eel"; "he has strange ways about him" ; "he's a very curious kind of a person" : "he's half DAFT" ; "he's not the same as another" ; "he's an awful 'ODDITY'" ; "he does things that nobody would

being made for her marriage to another man. It was only when he was "escorting" her home from Bailieboró on the night before the marriage that she told him she was getting married to another fellow in the morning.

"Stop that work," says William marwood. For youre nearly knocked me dead. you know Sue my flail beside me. That is Caufield you may see. He struck John baney a south Western. And put him to his knees II They scuffled round the kitchen Until the fights began. After along and weary battle. Jimmey Carey he gave in. He says to marwood, "you have beat-me." The truth I must declare. So place me upon a trap And let me go to the devil knows where III When I saw the row was over. I called up both of them. You come forward now Jim Carey. For indeed youre the worst of them.

Now my friends come stand and listen The truth unto you I'm going to tell. About a row that did take place, The other night below in hell. When Carey raised the the poker. And struck marwood on the head.

Fuair sé an claimhe agus ní thiubhradh sé comhluadar don bheirt dreáthar eile a bhí ag fanacht leis sa gceardcha nuair nach claimhe aca féin. Dubairt Íochtar mac Airt le n-a athair nuair a tháinig sé abhaile go ngabhfadh sé féin i mbárach go dtí an Gaibleann Gabha go ndeanadh sé claimhe dó. "Ní misde liom" ars an t-athair agus chuaidh sé go dtí an Gaibhleann Gabha agus thug sé ordú dó claimhe a dheánamh dó. Sgaoil sé an bhó agus thug sé ar féarach í. Nuair a bhí a sáith ithte aici thug sé ar ais í, ceangail sé don inneóin cheardchan í agus chuaidh isteach sa gceardcha. "Ar cheangail tú an bhó" ars an Gaibleann Gabha. "Teirigh amach sá dorus agus innseócha do dhá shúil féin duit go bhfuil sí ceangailte." Fuair sé an claidheamh agus ní

vessel. They fired their cannon at them. What should they get only a broadside from the man-of-war! “Oh, by the lobey!” says Roche, says he, “we have a broadside from Uncle Sam!” The American man-of-war blew at them, until she sunk their ship nearly. She was sinking to the water-line. They went aboard and they took every one of them prisoners and they carried them ashore. They were sent to England and they were all executed.

Desperadoes Try Piracy at Fail There was fine desperadoes one time in Youghal, and they were very short of money. They hired with a French captain; he was an old man, and a weak crew. They were three or four deep out to sea when Roche, the ring-leader of them, when he thought the rest were asleep, he ordered his four or five lads, they handcuffed the lads - tied their hands behind their backs - and threw them out to sea, the captain and all of them! They turned at painting their ship and they painted her, and they cut off the topmast, and there was canvas repairs. They made sails, they coloured the sails different colours, that the ship wasn't known. They went into a port in Portugal and they brought a gun - a brass gun. They said they'd go painting, and they went painting, and they sailed away, and there was an American ship looking out for pirates. She was a man-of-war and they thought she was only a merchant

agus ba sine Úr na Artúr. Gach a bhfuil abhus adeir Úr, bíodh sé abhus agus gach a bhfuil shíos bíodh sé thíos. Goirim-se agus coisricim thú mar bhean agus mar céile dom féin go bráthach." Cuirim-se tusa faoi gheasa agus faoi mhór dhiomadh na bliadhna gan baint ná páirt a bheith liom go ceann lá agus seacht mbliana," ar an bhean. "Ní acar fada é sin" adeir Ur, nó dá mbéadh nó dá mbeadh sé an fhad agus an fhad eile". D'fhág sé shíos Lándearg. Casadh ceann seanchapaill [dhó] ar an mbealach dó ar bhain sé trí fhiacail as le cur in-áit fhiaclaí a athar. Nuair a tháinig sé abhaile chuir sé fiacla an chapaill i gceann an athar in áit na bhfiacal a bhain an Ridire Uaithne as. Is aige féin a bhí chuile ghaisgidheacht. Ní raibh tuairisg ar bith ar Lándearg aige. Níor fhág sé fiacal ar bith dá chuid féin i gceann a athar. Ní raibh ag Landearg a fágadh thíos ach toisiú ag tóruidheacht cé ngabhfad sé agus gan fios aige cé raibh sé ag dhul. Is gearr a bhí siubhalta aige nuair a casadh gaisgidheach leis ar a tugadh an

The bush-harrow was used for covering grass-seeds. You get an old gate and weave bushes in and out through it. In Clare, often they's throw a stone on top of it. Sgeachs they used to use.

sé leis dose. D'fhiafhrui' sé dho gud é mar shórt fir an caibiléaraí. "Gud é mar shórt fir a b'eadh é?" ar seisean. "Fear a b'eadh é, fear a b'eadh é go raibh caipín beag air," ar seisean, "aon bhais amháin " ar seisean, " bí dhá chlíathán a phluic," ar seisean, "lán d'fhéusóig dhuibh," ar seisean, "agus duine beag míllteach beag a b'eadh é féinig," ar seisean. "Níorbh aon fhear dathúil ná deas é," ar seisean. "Duine beag cruaig ceólmhar a b'eadh ruthan [ar a shon] san é," ar seisean. "Alright," ar seisean. Do tháinig an dochtúir óg agus air a bfeárr a dhíol, do dhin sé suas sórt beag 'doll' ar a' slí sin a' dtuigeas tú, fear beag agus do bhuail sé air a bhlúire do chaipín agus do thairrig

de léim ann. Tháinig sé aniar agus an chulaidh ghaisge air. "B'fhéidir [go nd] adeir sí "go ndéanfá rud eicín." Gabh siar anois adeir sí agus cart a bhfuighfidh tú de shean chlaimhthe faoi'n leabaidh agus an ceann is íoctaraighe b'fheidir go mb'fearr duit na maide é." Chuaidh sé siar agus bhí sé ag cartadh claimhte go bhfuair sé an ceann ba íochtraige. Bhain sé creatha as agus bhain sé seacht mbairile mairge dhe. An darna creatha bhí sé chómh glas agus dá dtugadh sé amach as a siopa é. Nuair a tháinig sé aniar agus an claidheamh ina láimh aige. Tá súil agam go n-eireóchadh t-aisdear leat agus go bhfuighfidh tú an bhuachtáil. Gheobhfaidh tú each chaol bhan san stábla annsin amuich agus tiubhradh sí go dtí an Domhan soir tú. Mara bhfágha tú a thuairisg annsin níl fhios agam cá bhfuigfidh tú a thuairisg". Tharraing Lándearg amach an teach caol bhán agus chuaidh sé de léim cos uirthe [chuaidh an bheirt dreathár ar a chúl]. Luath go leor sa lá sheas an t-each caol bán ar an tamhnach bán sa Domhan Shoir. D'isligh sé

cuireadh goirim sgoile amach ar bheag agus ar mhór na ríoghacht ar fad teacht ar fleadh [fuaim fly] agus ar féasta bainse go ceann seacht n-oidhche agus seacht lá. Bhíodar ag teacht go raibh seacht gcéad ridire an bhoird bhig agus ocht gcéad ridire an bhoird mhóir, agus naoi gcéad ridire boird na bochta agus aon chéad déag ridire an bhoird fhada, bhí húdaboys ann agus bhí hawdaboys ann, bhí tú féin ann má bhí mise ann ach ní rabh agam-sa ach bróga páipéir agus stocaí bainne reamhair. Sin a rabh a'm-sa. Nuair a phós gaisgidheach na falainge fliche agus dreithiúr Bútais Óir. Nuair a bhí an bhainis caithte dubhairt Cod go dtiochfadh sé go ríoghacht na Firiu(?) Áille ag tóruidheacht a mhná féin arís. Chuaidh sé síos go dtí an soithín agus chur chun seoil í. Nuair a bhí trí lá caithte a' seoltóireacht aige chonaic sé caisleán eirighthe as lár na fairrge, dubhairt sé nach ngabhfadh sé thar an gcaisleán go [l] mbeadh fhios aige céard é féin. Nuair a tháinig sé gar dó chonaic sé preachán

would seek a divorce from him at the end of the year. He let on to be a fool and never on any occasion did anything, so that his wife could know definitely that he was a man. Even though he was married to her and slept with her, he was never her husband. He left her in such a way that he did not know whether she was a boy or a girl. The girl talked the matter over with her parents and they came to the decision that she should look for a divorce. At the end of the year the divorce was granted and Carl was set at liberty. Carl did not leave when the day came but stayed on for another night. He slept with his wife again this night even though he was not now married to her. On that night for the first time he showed whether he was really a man. During the night, however, he set off on his journey but before leaving he let a note on the table. This note was written in Irish and explained who he really was. Not until this day did they know, who the man who was in the house with them really was. They wondered when they knew that he was really Carl Daly. Carl set off on his journey to find the earl's daughter. On the first day he came upon some

between the people, everybody praised her and said she was the nicest girl they had ever seen. Carl was delighted and began to think that he had the finest girl in the world as this was his ambition. At length, the married couple came to where the beggers and travelling men were enjoying themselves. These were in a kind of loft at the extreme end of the house. The beggers began to remark what fine looking girl Carl's wife was. At the end of the room was a small travelling man who said that he in his travels had seen a better looking girl. Carl heard this remark and immediately lost all love for his wife. On that night he pretended nothing but enjoyed himself with the rest of the party. Even though Carl was enjoying himself he all the time kept thinking of the travelling man's remark. He resolved to find out where this girl lived and before the night ended he got all particulars from the begger-man. Carl when he had got all the necessary information, he made up his mind on one plan - to get divorced from his wife and then to marry this other girl. At that time people could get a divorce at the end of the first year. Carl made up his mind to do everything to displease his wife, so that she

Carl. Carl went about the farm and did his daily work in the best manner possible. The result was that the farmer took a great liking to Carl and began to have the idea that he would make a good son-in-law. During all this time Carl had neither done nor said anything that would prove his real person. He lived and worked from day to day like any ordinary person. Neither had he shown any love to the farmer's daughter even though he often thought of doing so. The girl seemed the same way inclined towards Carl. She was an exceptionally fine looking girl and was supposed to be the best looking girl for miles and miles. Finally a marriage was introduced between Carl and the farmer's daughter. Both parties were willing and they were married. On the night of the marriage there was big celebrations and all the local people were invited. The people were entertained in the best manner possible and there was plenty for everybody to eat and drink. At that time it was customary that the party who had good[?] married presented themselves to the people at the party and walked amongst them. Carl and his wife did so on this occasion and as they were walking about

Carl Daly was a man who lived somewhere in the South of Ireland many years ago. He was supposed to be a man who could be anything and had a great attraction for the woman folk. Everybody had heard of him at some time or other. At times he lived in obscurity and under a different name. At a certain time in his life he worked for this farmer. In the house there dwelt the farmer's wife and daughter. The farmer had many times heard of Carl Daly but never knew that his servant boy was

White birds featherless, flew from Paradise - pitched upon castle wall, picked up toothless, ate it roastless and road away horseless. - "Snow".

Some time after this he was out in the field near his house setting potatoes when a big tall woman came and sat before him on the ridge. Immediately he became frightened as he knew she was not from this world. He plucked up courage and said to her "Who are you" and "What brought you here". I came to have revenge on you for what you did to my sister. With 'at he fainted away and when he came to himself the woman had disappeared. He had to be carried in home and got several fainting fits. He was never the same afterwards. Finally he took to the bed and only lived a short while.

torture him in her usual manner. When she had gone another woman appeared to him, who also was a ghost. She told him that the 21 years would be completed on the night of the 31st November next and that one or other of them would be killed on that night. She advised him to carry home with him a white knife belonging to the people he was staying with, and to place it in safety in the corner of his press at home, and if by chance the ghost was getting the better of him on the last night he should call on one of his children to bring him the knife. He was then to throw the knife at the ghost. Sure enough the ghost arrived on the last night. A terrible struggle followed between both of them. As the ghost was getting the better of the man he called on one of his children to bring him the white-handled knife. He then threw the knife at the ghost and it fell down in a heap and disappeared. In the morning the knife was found stuck in some shiny material. That was the last he saw of the ghost.

This continued for a good number of years. The ghost used to come into his house at night and torment him. During all this time no other person saw the ghost but himself. He now made up his mind to live in another house and moved to Tourbona which adjoins this townland. Some of the old people knew him and the narrator of this story remembers too see the foundation of his house in Tourbona. He thought by moving into this house that he would no longer be troubled by the ghost. But she again tormented him as before. Twenty years had almost elapsed since the first time she attacked him. He had done everything in his power to get rid of her but without success. About this time he had occasion to go to Co. Limerick on a visit. He was obliged to take lodgings in a certain house and before going to bed he told the landlady that he might have some trouble during the night but not to take any notice of him. She had only just gone to bed when the ghost again appeared to him and began to

baile dá bhfághamuid triúr mac rí na h-Iorrua go dtugamuid ar cuairt 'un ár ríoghacht féin iad go ceann lá agus seacht mblian, go dtéidhmid an fhaid dho'n Iorrua arís." "Ceachtar acu sin atá tú a iarraidh tá sé le fághail agat agus fáilte" adeir Cod. "Well, is fearr duit-se anois" adeir sé "a'd féin a' sgaoileadh le muir agus le mór-fhairrge agus a thigheacht isteach innti seo in éinfeacht liomsa agus le mo bheirt dhearbhráthar féin" "Nuair a bhí mise ag fágáil a' bhaile" adeir Cod, adeir sé. "Chuir m'athair biadh agus á'lann (annlann) linn agus mara bhfuil biadh agus á'lann a'd agus mara [bhfuil] (raibh) ag t-athair féin le cur leat ma tá tú tuirseach dhi sin sgaoil le muir agus le mór-fhairrge í ach ní fhagfaidh mise mo shoitheach féin". Sgaoileadar an soitheach óráilte le muir agus le mór-fhairrge níos tuisge na mar ghabhfaidís ag troid leis ar an bhfairrge. Triúr mac rí na h-Eadáinne tháingeadar isteach le Cod ina shoithín féin. ("Anois adeir Cod" rinneadar daoine muinnteardha díobh féin) "Ar thug tusa aon turas

old woman sittin' in the corner, all bleedin'. He called in a few neighbour women, an# she was sent off to bed, an' she was so badly wounded that she died that night. From that day onwards they had plenty butter in their churns around Fintona.

Once upon a time in a place called Fintona in the Co. Tyrone, there lived a farmer and his mother, the name of Bairds. They were very ugly lookin', especially the old woman. For a mile or so around this place when the people churned their milk they never had any butter, an' the(y) got very suspicious about these people. They lived in a townland called Glashagh about two miles from Fintona. So this particular mornin' this man was out lookin' for rabbits. He had a dog an' a gun with him. He saw a hare rushin' across the field. He fired at the hare an' wounded it, an' where did the hare run but straight into this house. The man was surprised at where the hare made for after being wounded. He followed the hare into the house, an' when he went in he was shocked to see the ugly (contd. next page)

Bhí baintearbhach bhocht ina comhnuidhe in aice le Caisleán Achadh an Iubhair. Chuaidh dhá caoraigh léithe thar tórainn isteach ar thalamh an Fhlathartaigh Lom an Flathartach an dá chaoraigh agus choinnigh an olann mar mhalairt ar an bhféar a bhí ithte ag na caoirigh. Bhí mac ag an mbaintreabhaigh. Bhí sé thar sáile i dtír coimhthigheach agus é ina shaighdiúir nó oifigeach airm. Ní raibh fios ag an máthair cé raibh sé mar nach bhfuair sí sgéal uaidh ó d'imthigh sé. Tamaill tar éis lomadh an dá chaorach tháinig an mac abhaile. Tháinig sé go dtí teach a mháthar ach ní leig sé ar féin cé bhí ann. D'iarr sé lón agus lóistín uirthi. Fuair sé sin. Thosuigh sé ag fiafruigh dhuithe cén chaoi a raibh an saoghal sa tír nó cén sórt tighearna a bhí san áit. D'innis sí dó a chruaidhe is bhí an saoghal aice féin agus an íde a thug an Flathartach dho'n dá chaoirigh. Níor dhubhairt an mac tada ach maidin lá'r na bhárach d'eirigh sé roimh

Richard Purcell of Loughmore was abbot of the abbey at Holy Cross. He went over to Queen Elizabeth an' Queen Elizabeth wrote a letter an' offered him a grant of land an' he put in for a grant of land around the abbey. He wintered his cattle in the abbey, the abbey

"Wouldn't you go up" says the farmer "and ask the daughter of Walsh to do us a tirm in the world and to have you marry her and when you'd marry her then we'd be safe because we couldn't die of he hunger." So the son went up the next day and asked the daughter of Walsh her father formerly his workman get the dogs at him and told him to gather himself off. So the little cow was stolen and put into the barn and match makers came to the workman's house to get the daughter in marriage and the fine place. The men below were day and night looking for the little cow until they gave it up. "I'l tell you" says the farmer to his son "Donald Ruadh[?] lives in such a place, so there in the morning and if the little cow is under

The present bishop of Limerick (Dr Keane) was our P.P about the same time. He was a terrible imperialist. Sunday after Sunday he used to come out awful on the altar. This Sunday he was going too far and my son, John, and another stood up and walked out of the chapel and 4 or 5 off the gallery. My son said nothing but the other boy spoke up and said: "We come here to hear Mass, not to be abused". From that day out the bishop never said another word about politics.

man sent down in his place.

During the Free State racket there was a mission in Glin. Two Redemptorist Fathers from Limerick, Father Devine and another. They were ??? Staters. The boys from here - my son and others - used to be firing at the free state boats going up and down the street. They used to fire at them from the Pier and then when the boat got in line with the town they used to fire shot after shot up the Main St (the upper end of which is known as the Lower Mall and the Upper Mall). The boys went down this evening and fired on the boat and wounded two of the Staters. Down with the two Missioners to beat them. They lifted their hands to them and left nothing unsaid. They tried to take the rifles off them but the boys would not give up their guns. They knew it was wrong to lift their hands or do anything against a priest. So they took their beating and never said a word. With that the curate (Father. ) came down and took their ??? . He wired to Limerick and Father Devine was called home the next day and another

Republican priest of these parts during the trouble, but many a good organiser "was the first to run".

Dan Breen spent a good deal of his time around here. He was a great soldied but he was a terrible man. Non'of?? never knew what he'd do and he'd face a whole army. Some of the people were never happy until he was gone. Whenever he'd be stopping there'd be revolvers and ammunition and bombs all over the place. They had a meeting in the offices one night back in Tarbert at Father McCarthy's house. It got very late and them and father McCarthy decided to put them up for the night. It fell to the lot of a young local officer to go sleep with Tom (? Dan ?). When they went up to the room, Dan pulled the table across the door and laid a fully loaded revolvers, and two hand grenades on the table. This young officer was not noted for his physical courages and when he saw Dan making all the warlike preparations he suddenly developed a call to the rear and did not return. How he walked home that night in the heigh of the trouble was a great joke round here for a long time. Little wonder if he was nicknamed Felix. Father McCarthy C.C of Tarbert was the great

This big field (lying between the Cabialt and the clump of trees known as Rock Hall) is called the Racing Field. It's on the Knight's demesne (see map p37) WHY?

This spot here was always called the Cabhail or the old Cabialt. No there were no houses here at that time. Cabhail means a house for cows. There was a big house for cows here long ago

There are a lot of lime kilns near it. They used to draw a lot of limestone from Foynes, up through the street, but as there is a very steep hill above this cross, they used to divide the load and come back for the other half. That is why it was called Limestone Cross

They'd often get 100 fine big salmon in the Long Rock Weir for every tide and there were two tides a day. They often got more and very often much less. Part of the weir can be seen still, e of the town 1 "Dam Back" (Doon & Toem): "We dammed back the river"

To get full price for your load you'd want to have creels on your car. When they'd be expecting a good spell of frost they'd make pools here and there by damming the rivers. By that means they'd often have ice 4 inches thick. That ice was used during the year according as it was wanted. There was a great of fishing boats on the river that time between Foynes and Torbart. The Knight always had two big boats on the river and there were whole fishing villages above the "coast". They used to catch a lot of salmon and herring and a good shore of mackrel now and again, but there's not a fish in the river since the Salmon started. It all the fish killed. The fish was put in big boxes with plenty of ice and sent by boat to England. There were big fish stores here at that time.

An ice-house consisted of a deep conical hole dug in the ground. About 20 - 24 feet deep. Diameter at top about the "diameter" of the kitchen. They were always "built" on the top of a hill. Access to them obtained by means of an iron ladder. The ice was stored in these pits - "covered over with straw & clay" (?) and the top of the pit covered with thatch, same as you'd thatch a house, the eaves of the roof being on a level with the ground all round and the nothing to be be seen above ground except the thatch: Mrs. Dove??? (p ) "We often climbed up on the thatch when we were children. Of course we'd be killed if we were caught. That would be about 45 years ago". PROCURING THE ICE Mrs. Dove??? (p ): - Everybody would be ready when the hard weather would come all the horses and donkeys in the parish would be busy next day drawing the ice to the pits. They used to sell 1/6 for a horse load 9D to 1/1 for a donkey load and about 6d for the full of a slab: carried on the back.

Limerick Junction: The big shop and hotel at the gates of Limerick Junction Station is known as "the ice house". Property of Ryan (Bulleen): I'll ??? at Bulleen's" but most common: "I'll meet you at the ice-house". I could never find out why it was so named. Do the explanation follow (infra)? GLIN. About 40-50 years ago, when fishing was carried on "at full steam", there were at least five ice-houses in this district: 1. Kinard 2. Ballygoughlan 3. Cillgng?? Cill Éanaigh (between Glin and Ballyhahill) 4. Baile na nGall, on the knight's Road between Glin & Tarbert 5. "At the (lower) end of the town" (Glin) behind where Tom Hayes' house now stands All in Borough of SHANID. Ice was stored in these 'houses' to cure the fish. Local supply of ice depended on amount of frost experienced each year. If the supply ran out late in the year (Summer or Autumn) Norwegian or Swedish vessels brought supplies to the quay of Glin.

'As old as a bush' (Glin) = very, very old. 1. always "bastibal" or pot-oven in Tipp & Doon

Gall-Lucra. "It's bad land. It's only Gall-Luacra land. Nothing in it but gall-luacra. (i.e plenty of rushes and coarse land). It would take a lot of time to reclaim it. Reviving it from 2 or 3 miles S of the town (Glin)

they'd have in the oven or pot (1) and the woman of the house used to be mystified. She thought it was some extraordinary power he had from God he had, and was setting very much in dread of him. This day it happened that she was roasting a fox when he came in and she had said to herself if Father fox so comes he'll never figure what we have for the dinner today. Twas not long until he made his appearance. He sniffed the air and said "You have some good daint in the pot today". He paused for a while and then he said: "As long as the fox ran he's caught at last," meaning that he was bested at last and could not possibly guess what was in the pot. When she heard that she fell on her knees and was ready to adore him.

There was a curate in these parts and he was the best man I ever knew for making out. He'd drop into this house for his dinner and that house for his tea and turn up at the third house in time for his supper. There was one house he used to frequent very often because it was a good house. He used to turn up shortly before dinner and he always knew what they had for dinner as soon as he went in. " You have a nice roast today" or "That's a nice bit of mutton you have down". He used to know by the smell what

Those priests didn't want to be going anywhere except the people had money hidden in the thatch. (Before banks were common, I suppose, or when banks were shaky - reliable to break any minute, moment, day, & men in Co. Tipp at the present day and for umpteen years {???} old farmers would not trust their money in the banks. They have it hidden 'in the thatch', or buried. Hence {pollóg??}. "The bank might break (close)" They don't yet forget Sadleir & Keogh (see "New Ireland" by A.M. Sullivan). Many of them have their money lodged in several banks. If one breaks, they can call on the others, ??. This "forced" keeping of the money at home, has led to local money-lending in many cases & many a farmer & shop-keeper has earned for himself the unenviable name of gambling-man (Tipp)

About 3 miles from Glin on the T. was an abbey in former days. The ruins are there still. There is a fine big gentleman's place near it. It was a public burial place long ago but now it's only used for premature children. mise (me): are little children that have been baptised buried there? no. There' s nobody buried in it now and for many a long day except those that are born premature and children that didn't get baptism. "Strangers used to be buried there about 50 years ago. People from the Co. Clare or from the EAST (i.e over about ?? Limerick)"

"3 slanes of turf & one hundred (local measurement). A slane of turf is as much as 3 men will cut in one day: one man working the slane & the second man {forking/pitching} from him & the third man pitching out further still" "Ré-turf is the best, i.e. turf out a ré-bog, this is a bog only about two sods deep". {note: in this context ré-bog and ré-turf could mean very soft or from a certain era/point in time}

On the brink of Galway Bay there was a great castle long ago, and woods and gardens and a great demense all around it, and the broad blue ocean stretching away in front of it. And there was a great English lord from there, by the name of Colonel Crosbie. Well- he had a lot of men workin' there for him of course, and he had one oul' man there - a great worker in his young days, and never with any other family since he eanred his first hire - and his name was cul' Crohoor (Concubhair) that's what he was always called. Well - he had a son himself, and his name was Seán Ó Concubhair - and he was always called Seánó, and no more. He was very cross and arch and airy, and no good to be got out of him, so they kept him on going to school. Of course there was none of the fine schools they have now that time, only in an oul' shed or barn outside, and the master

gráin ar faoi gur leig sé an bhean leis a bhfear mór. Nuair a dhúisigh sé ansoin agus chonnaic sé an cleas sin deanta ar an duine ba ghoire dhó bhuail sé clabhta ar. "Ó sgread a mhaidne ort" adeir duine acab "is beag a ghaisge a dheanfá ar Mhucan Mhór Mhac Rí na Sorachaí a thug do bhean leis". "Cé'n bealach a ndeachaidh sé" adeir sé. "Nach cuma dhuit cé'n bealach a ndeachaidh sé" adeir siad "nach bhfuil fhios ad gur soir a chuir a chuaidh sé." Nior rinne sé ansoin ach filleadh ar a soitheach agus cois a chur 'sa soitheach agus cois eile ar a talamh gur chuir sé faoi'n bpoll í agus gur sheóil sé leis. Nior stop sé ansoin gur stríoc sé i gcuan agus i gclaith Rioghacht Ridir an Chabharna. Nuair a stríoc sé ansoin chuaidh sé suas gur bhuail sé an dorus. Tháinig an doraiseóir amach. "Cé tá ansoin" adier sé. "Tá mise" adeir Conal an grabaire beag as Éirinn atá ag iarra

Sgéilín air Chonán MaolThimpeall Sliabh Challán bhí comhnuidhe air Conán Maol. Bhí fear a lorg eólas a thígh lá, gairid don Sliabh. Casag fear air agus thuig sé in aigne gurbe Conán féin do bhí aige do réir an tuairisc do fuair sé air. Mar d'airí sé ins an túirisc sin go mba duine Conán do bhíodhach a trácht go h-olc air ghach naon. Bhí Conán a shiúbhal an bóthar dó féin nuair do thosnuig Conán a caoinnt go h-olc air gach duine a tárnuíghag anuas. Ní raibh aithint air bith roimhe sin aig an bhfear seo air Chonán. Ins an deire d'iarr Conan air an bhfear: "Cá bhfuil tú a dul!" "Tá mé a' dul go dtí tigh Conan Maol na Mallacht" d'fhreagair an fair. "Sin é tá anois agat air an mbóthar mise an fear sin" (d'fhreagair) dúbhairt Conán. D'aithin mé air do chaoinnt gur tú bhí agam" Cén nós air aithin tú mé?" d'fhiafruig Conan. "D'aithnios" adubhairt an fear "i dtaobh thú bheith trácht go h-olc air ghach uile dhuine."
Fuaireas ó Seumas Ó Donnachadh , Sliabh na Cnocán, Murraíoch. D'airigh é aig na sean daoine. Roinnt ceartú air na focaile.

Apailin Apailin sure you wont die.
Told by B.J. Canley (see page 19).The day it being wet and the turf on the road Sez Johnny to Kitty we'll go for a load. When they came to Phil Hannon's the ass took a pain And died at Mick Drurys comin' up on the lane. So Johnny told Kitty begin for to cry Sayin apailin appailin sure you wont die Your kidneys we'll rub and your hair we will dry Sayin apailín apailín sure you wont die II The collar and hams the stradale and brelech We'll give to the Currys to make them get rich And also a piece of his wonn old tail We ll give to Tom Deacon for atug for his flail. chorus

IV
So now young men take a warning from me If ever in search of a wife you may be I can tell ye quite plainly where you'll get your fill Slippin an thrippin down Highwood Hill chorus

Highwood Hill
One day in December I nee'r shall forget A charming young lassie I first met. Her voice was like the rippling rill Twas slippin' and thrippin down Highwood Hill Me fol the dal doodle dam Fol the dal doodle dam Fol the dal doodle dam Bumble um bum. II Sez I me fair damsel you must me excuse To partake of me arms she did not refuse Her arms slipped in mine, an' we felt a love's thrill Twas slippin an' thrippin' down Highwood Hill chorus. III And now we are married and children has three Bur me and me wife can never agree. She called one of them Tommy and the other one Jill Sez I call the other buck Highwood Hill Chorus

I am very interested in seeing these documents. It wonderful all these stories were recorded. Someone was thinking about preserving the past for the future.

feast but all the people claim and it is the custom to have it between the first and tenth of November. How they carry it out in this district is they have it between the two Hallow eves. Hallow's eve, and old Hallow's 'eve saying nine nights, and a night without counting. It must be inside of these dates. Nowadays people of this district never abstain from any servile work, nor they do not hold it holy in any respect, except whatever day a family are going to have their feast - They devote all their time in preparation. In olden times in this district when the old women earned

"tá an lios le thémidh". D'imigh na mrá amach agus iad ag gáireidh. Dhruid an bhean an doras ortha. Tamallt 'na dhiaidh sin tháinic siad go dtí an doras arais agus d'iarr siad fágáil isteach. D'iarr an bhean ortha imtheacht leó, nó, nach bhfuigea... siad isteach. Dubhaird siadsan: "caithfidh muid fágáil isteach ags an stólar chúl a chinn". Dubhairt sise nach rabh stól ar bith ar chúl a chinn anseo, agu imetheacht agus a thógáil. Ansin sheas siadsan amuig ag an doras go dtí gur scairt an coileach ar maidin agus ansin d'imigh siad.//

díobhtha, dubhanet sí nach fada atá tú gan bran tae a dhéanamh dúinn ?""Bhail", arsa bean a toighe ag éirghe agus ag amharc, "níl a dhuit uisce astoigh".
"Bhuil tá tobar beag thíos ansin", adubhairt an bhean eile, agus ní bheidh tú i bhfad ag'ul síos fá choinne braon'. D'imigh an bhean bhocht síos chun tobair. Chonaic sé an solus astoigh agus chualaidh sé aid a ceól. Dubhairt sé ansin léithe. "Tá scaifte mór aca thuas agat!" "Tá", a dubhairt sise, "agus níl fhios agam faoi Dhia goidé dheánfas mé leó". "Bhail a bhfuil fhios agat goidé dheánfas tú?" adubhairt (sise) seisean, "nuair a rachas tú abhaile abair go bhfuil an lios le themidh agus chomh luath géar agus gheobhfas tú an bhean dheireanneach aca amuigh druid a dortas agus cuir a bolta air agus ná leig isteach níos mó iad". D'imigh an bhean suas agus nuair a chuiaidh sí fhad leis an doras dubhairt sí

Bhí bean ann am amháin agus bhí sí a sníomhadh barraigh Oidhch' Shamhna nuair a tháinic bean isteach a rabh adharc orthí agus d'iarr sí oirthí le dhul a chuideadh léithe a shníomhadh. Tamall eile ina dhiaidh sin tháinic bean isteach a rabh dhá adharc oirthí. Bhí siad a teacht isteach leo ansan agus tháinic bean isteach a rabh dhá adharc déag oirthí. Ba ise an maighistir a bhí orhtha, agus nuair a b'fhada léithe a bhí bean a toighe gan braon tae a dhéánamh

The North Wexford name for a leipreachán is
loorakeen. The Rathvilly name is limeracawn.

There was a labouring boy below here at Riordans about fifty years ago.
He was from some back West, Mick Egan was his name. Well Coreys were living in Coolmohan that time and and their land was boundsing Riordans when ever the cows would be in trespass in Egan would be always sent to put them out. One day he put them out and drove them down to the house, he met Johanna She was an awfull [?] an she abused him, she said they weren't trespassing at all. That was alright, the Sunday after he was going to Mass. an she was at Mass too Coming home, he was

one evening we fell asleep on top of the rock. When I awoke I could hear voices down below me snd right enough there was one of the boatmen named______ & an American tourist.
"This is the spot now, Sir. Just listen to me I'll tell about a man'll hear a wonderful echo" He hollered at the top of his voice: 'Are you there, Paddy Casey?' As quick as lightning I replied "I am, I am" snd destroyed the real echo. I thought Kal Larry would get nonplussed. Not a bit of it, man. He turned to the Yank as cool as a cucumber & said "Now, where would you find an echo likethat?" "Well, I guess I have travelled the whole world but this is the first time that I have heard an echo like that. I wouldn't have missed it for the world" and he gave poor embarrassed Larry a half-sovereign on the spot. That Yank was half-way back to the U.S.A before he saw the joke.

surprise, he saw a lovely girl and an old woman. The girl asked him was it for Herosia he was looking, so he said that it was. "Well, I am Herosia", said she; "O was enchanted and was to be a hairy as a sow's tail until a king's son would be willing to marry me at the chapel". Then they were married and they had a wedding far for a whole week.
Then this newly married young lady, (as she was no longer called Herosia) mounted a horse and went to the giant castle and told the boy that she was going to be his boss anymore and to kill the best bullock on the farm, that they were going to have a great feast there in the giant castle. Of course the boy did as he was told. Then she brought the king and queen, their sons and

This is the remainder of the story entitled "Herosia", which I didn't finish in the last book.
~~~ Then Herosia and the king's youngest son went off to the chapel in a coach to get married. As they were going along the road, Herosia spied another woman on the roadside, even more ugly-looking than herself, and she said to the prince, "this is an old friend of mine, that often helped me as I went along, so I must give her a ride now in the coach." So they stood and told the old woman to come into the coach. After a while, the prince got disgusted looking at the two ugly women, so he came out and walked. When he arrived at the church, he went to the carriage and opened the door for Herosia to come out, but to his great

angel went back & told the story to his comrades, there was an awful uproar, and terrible noise, so great that the priest got deaf and never was able to hear a word from that onwards, so that's the story of the fallen angels, and these are the fairies that are supposed to inhabit the forts and lisses through the country, at present, and before now.

In a case of gas in the beast's stomach it is tapped about a span - four inches - from the hench bone. And if the gas doesn't come out through the hole that you made, you could put a quill is in to allow the gas to pass.

thing for milk-fever

To pump up the udder and tie the teats is the principal

There is an ointment for that, but anything moist will cure it.

A mustard blister is good for that. About a half pound of mustard would be enough. That would be for one lung. They generally take it in only one lung. Your ear will tell you if there is a second "draw" on her or not. If there is a second "draw" she has it in both lungs, and in that case you have to apply a second blister.

cheithre capaill agus ar chóiste Lord Ventry. Do stop na capaill agus má stop dubhairt a' t-Athair Eóghain :
" 'Nois," ar seisean, "gaibh tharótha 'mach". Bhí san go maith agus ní raibh go h-olc. Do chuaidh a' t-Athair Eóghain agus chuir sé an ola ar a' nduine breóite agus nuair a bhí sé gáilt tharótha 'nuas aríst ar shlí 'on Daingean cean a bhí na cheithre capaill agus a' tománaí agus a' coiste agus Lord Ventry, seana - Lord Ventry suite 'stig únta [ann] ceangailte dho 'n mbóthar. Do bhí 'n bháisteach a' gáilt do'n dtománaí agus n'fhéudfach sé corruí as a' suíochán go raibh sé . Bhí 'n seana-Lord istig agus ní lú' ná dh'fhéudfach san éiriú do na shuíochán féinig. Chuai' sé 'on Daingean agus do ghaibh duin' éicint an treó a

You could take anything that was given to you, and even you were away visiting on that day you still had to adhere to the custom - "give nothing away but take all that you get". There was very little drinking on that day. A great many people wouldn't "stand a drink" on New Year's Day - They wouldn't treat their nearest or dearest friend. There was another type of people that would treat you to a drink if they met you in a town or village or at "a country public house", but they wouldn't pay for it then - they would "get it on Tick" and pay for it the next day that they called. But generally speaking people did pay for a drink on New Year's Day - They held that it wasn't so bad to give your money away so long as you were getting equal value for it. They wouldn't give presents of milk or butter, but they would sell them. If they had presents or what they called "New Year's Gifts" to give to

if he goes as far as Burke's
vault in Kilbecanty Graveyard. The skull can be seen inside in the vault and the same grin on it as was on Burke's face that day he grinned at the priest! They closed up the vault and cemented it the day they laid the coffin in the vault. The very next day day there was a hole opened in through the cement into the vault. The caretaker cemented the hole again, and the very next day the same hole was opened again in the same spot. He told the priest about it and the priest told him to have it as it was and not to cement it any more. "That man," says he, "will be coming in and out there until judgment day." And the hole is there since.

The Grinning Skull.
Captain Burke that lived at Armagh was a bad man. He had an illigitimate child with this lady, and the parish priest O'Kilbecarty asked him to marry the girl, and not to cause a scandal. When Burke got the priest's back turned he laughed and grinned at what the priest was after saying. The priest got a side-glance of him and caught him grinning. "Burke," says he "the one that'll live yet will see your grinning after your death!" Thanks be to God the priest's words came true. There was a grin on Burke's face after he dying, and anyone that wants to see the grin on the skull, can see it

A young pig intended to be kept for breeding is called "the pattern of a sow in Kilgarvan.

Danilín lived with his mother and there were only two there and they had threee cows; in the finial he said to himself "Mother I'm old enough to get married." The king's daughter was advertised for marriage and they had to knock three laughs out of her to get her. So this day Danilín said to his Mother "Mother" says he "I have no money to go courting and I'l have to carry one of the cows to the fair. "Dan don't" says his mother "two cows are no good take the three and make something out of them" So Dan got up in the morning and looked East and West told God to direct him and if not, not to mind

when she gave the second laugh. The next thing he began to play his musical instrument and out with the bee and the mouse dancing. She gave a hearty laugh entirely when she saw them. "I have your daughter King" says Danielín "Yes Dan said he but there is one ugreed[?] that I much get. "Do you see the forest above?" said he. He pointed out at a tree he should bring him down to the great house. Well he got a saw and an axe to bring the tree to the king, there was a lion there and that's the reason the king sent him. So Danielín went off with his axe and saw to cut the tree and he carried his musical instrument with him for he'd go nowhere without it. So when he was just coming to cut the tree what came roaring but the lion.

I love my father and I love my mother,
I love my sister likewise my brother. I love my friends and relations too. Id forsake them all and go with you.I travelled Munster and Leinster Round, Dublin City and sea port towns, In all my ranging neer[?] could I see, The curling looks of you srád mo ċroiḋe[?]. The colour of amber was my loves hair, Skin far whites than the lilies fair, The honey drops of the morning dew, I sent[?] half as sweet as a kiss from you. Come all fair maidens who hear my song never believe in a false young man. Now all fair maidens who would pity me See how my heart is breaking for you srád mo ċroiḋe[?].

gu ’n tigeadh gach bean òg agus fleasgach a bha
that each young lady and youth who was aig a chuirm an oidhche roimhe. at the feast on the previous evening should come. Chruinnich an òigridh agus bha othail mhòr The young people assembled and there was air a chloinn nighean, a chionns gu robh e great excitement among the ladies, for it was air a sheanachas gu ’n do ghabh mac an rumoured that the king’s son had fallen righ trom-ghaol air aon diubh, agus gu robh deeply in love with one of them, and that he e dol ga taghadh dha fhein mar mhnaoi. was going to choose her this evening as his wife. Bha searbhanta a’ chitsin-duibh a The servant of the black-kitchen Sgriobadh nam poit mar a b’ abhaist, nuair was scraping the pots as usual, when she chual i strathail fo ’n uinneig, agus air heard a noise of feet under her window and when dhi coimhead a mach faicear an gamhain she had looked out she saw the brown stirk donn na sheasamh. “So, so,” ars esan, “tog ort standing there. “Now” said he “get ready agus thugainn chun na cuirme” Bha and come away to the feast” The a’ chaileag bhochd deonach gu leor, agus poor girl was well pleased to do so, and falbhar i fhein agus an gamhain donn chun away she went with the brown stirk a’ chnocain far an robh a chiste. to the knoll where the chest was hidden.

This townland is in Foxford parish.The derivation of the name of its neighbouring townland Coolegrane may have come from the same source although old people say that Coolegrane means Cúl le gréin or "back to the sun".
Addendum: Lognahaw (officially Dromeda-Druke) Killasser is situated in a deep hollow or valley at the foot of the Dromeda hills. This I presume explains the "lag" part of the name; but there is no geographical aspect of the townland to be reconciled with the latter part "haw".

[…] was late at night
[…] when they finished […ing] […] pigs at Jim [Duggan’s?] […] [from?] his house and […] he decided to strike […] out for home again. […] the advice of his […] [wife?]. Taking the […] short cut he came […] to the Big field and […] was surprised to […] see a lot of men with […] hurleys and going […] near them he was […] surprised as he […] knew the most of them.

My informant Michael Walsh lives in Ballinalecka officially known as Coolagagh. In former days he says this townland was just a dense hazel grove. The presence of the hazel or Coll gave the first part of the name Cool, which up to recently used to be pronounced Cull. The relief of the townland is very rugged and uneven. Hence the latter part of the townland lagaé meaning "bounding in hollows" from log or lag meaning a hollow.

dréimide ar ghualainn beirt fhear agus an duine marbh casta i mbairlín aca á thabhairt 'on teampul [roilig] laistíos soir seana-bhóthar Bhaile na Rátha(1). Deireach athair leis go gcuaidh mór-chuid aca 'on teampul [roilig) iad féinig agus go gcailleach lé claoí 'n teampuil iad agus go n-oscail cuid aca na tuamthaí a d'fhonn is nár ghá do'n muíntir a dh'fhanfach 'n-a ndeabhaig na liocacha [leacacha] thógaint lé h-eagla ná beidís láidir a ndóthain chuige. Bhí san go maith agus ní raibh go h-olc. Do tháinig an mhin-eórna ansan. Bin í an chéud chuid do'n mbia a tháinig chúcha agus má bhí do fuair sí sin ana-dro-riar
(1) Baile i bPar Dhún Chuínn

gun neach a thoirt an aire dhi, agus bha ’n
without anyone noticing her, and the gamhain donn ’ga feitheamh aig an doras brown sitrk was awaiting her at the big mhòr, dh-fhalbh e leithe chun a cnocain uaine door, he went with her to the green knoll anns an robh a chiste am falach, thiodhlaig where the chest was hidden, the buried iad an t-aodach riomhach a bh’ oirre anns the beautiful clothes she wore at the a’ bhàl, agus bha i anns na luideagan a ball and she was in her rags scrap- sgriobadh nam poit an citsin dubh a righ ing the pots in the king’s black mun do sgaoil a’ chuideachd. kitchen before the company had left. Bha mac an righ air a dhorranach gu ‘n do The king’s son was grief-stricken that chaill e sealladh oirre, chionn ’s ghabh e leithid he had lost sight of her, for he had taken de ghaol oirre ’s nach biodh fois oidhche such love for her that he would have no rest no tamh latha aige gu brath gus a faigheadh by night nor peace by day until he would e dha-fhein i mar chèile pòsda. Agus get her for himself as his wife. And chuir e cuireadh a mach feadh a’ bhaile he sent an invitation out throughout the town gu ’m biodh cuirm mhòr eile aige an ath- that he would have another great feast the next oidhche, agus gu ’m be thoil ’s a mhiann night, and that it was his wish and desire

When Stuart of Donemana was seventy years old he used to get a ladder & go out into the lawn & put it stand up straight & put poor simple fishermen walking up the ladder & then let the ladder go & let the men fall into the black-water & be drowned.

I used to hear them say that there was a great man in Ring called the saigouir. He used to fight on the quay & was a noble man. He served in the army & I suppose that is why they used to call him the saigouir.

I used to hear the old people say that in the old times Dungarvan was a great fishing port until the fisherwomen went into the sea & made [muca maroa?] of themselves. They swam over to England & back again. There was a woman there & her husband was a fisherman & when he came home this night she was not satisfied with the catch & she began to abuse him. The woman next day was deaf & remained so for ever after until the day that she died. That is why I used to hear that the dish is not so plenty now as it would to be but I suppose the travelers are the biggest cause of all.

clapped again & "Twas drink that missed them." He had to be taken down from the platform.

There was a man from Tipperary named Hayes. I think he was known as the gallant farmer Hayes & he shot a landlord at his own door & then he left Tipperary & made for Ring & he was put out from Helvic of the Ring fishermen & put out to a boat that used to be waiting in the ocean for them & he was shipping off to Australia. Delaney killed another landlord in Tipperary & he came along to Ring for shelter & was in Cudding's House for a night or two. He [?] too. During the time that Father Matthew was giving the temperance pledge in Tipperary a certain man was asked to introduce the speakers & when he began to speak he meant to say something about drink itself so he started off. "Twas drink that put down Ireland." They all clapped. "Twas drink that shot the landlords!" They all

A Story of St. Martin's Day - Told by Mrs. Murphy, Ballyrue, two miles from New Ross.
As long as Mrs. Murphy can remember her father used to tell the following story for 'fact truth' as she said: There lived at Rathgarogue 5 mils from N. Ross neighbours of Mrs. Murphy's father, named Denn. Two girls and a boy formed the household. The boy kept a pair of game cocks, cockfighting being then in vogue i.e. about 80 years ago. St. Martin's day came round and there was no cock at Denn's only the two 'games'. The girls made up their minds to kill one of the cocks - St. Martins day had to be honoured at all costs. So unknown to the brother the cock was killed. When he was in the pot boiling, the brother came in from the haggard for something or other, and if he did (to use her own words) "the devil such crowing and crowing as took place outside on the roast". Out they all went to see what was wrong and there on the roost was a cock the exact same as the one in the pot. "I thought you let out the cocks" said the brother, and he never knew the strange cock. He won all before him everywhere he was brought to fight. M.B. Dunphy.

and the egg stuff is taken out and hay filled with salt, and eaten before going to bed. During the night the person would be thirsty. The person to whom they would be married would come to them in sleep to give the a drink.

give you some idesn (ideas) of your future. E,g. a ship. You will have to cross the water to seek your fortunes.

isteach ann agus b'shiné an scéal nár mhisde " scéal ó Shamhain go Bealtaine" a thabhairt air. B'é an scéal le faid ba shia a chuala riamh agus is mó ceann fada atá cloiste agam anois. Bhí sé a gabháilt do go dtí tímpal a sé a chlog tráthnóna. Bhuaileamair amach go dtí an tig ba ghiorra dho annsan-Tig Ghobnait Bean UÍ Shuillobháin(Gobnait A ' Phoirt) agus thugamar as san go dtí tímpall a seacht a chlog'na fochair

a chual i seo, agus chaidh i gu laighe
she heard this, and she took to her na leapa, is i ‘g radh rithe fhein gu ‘m bed, saying to herself that she would b’ fhearr leatha gu ‘n tigeadh am bàs gu’ prefer death to come for her, rather h- iarraidh seach gu feumadh i toil a than be compelled to comply with her h- athar a dheanamh. Thuit an oidhche father’s request. Night fell upon agus bha i anns an t-seomar as she lay in her dark dhorcha, agus ciod e chual i ach strathail chamber, and what did she hear but a fo ’n uinneig. Thog i an uinneag, agus chuir noise under the window. Lifitng the window, she i mach a ceann, agus choimhead i , agus put out her head, and looked about, and ciud e bha fo ’n uinneig ach gamhain donn what should be under the window, but a brown stirk “Tha thusa sin a chaileag bhochd” ars’ (arsa?) “You are there, poor lassie,” said an gamhain donn, “gu dubhach, bronach, the brown stirk, “in gloom and sorrow, agus thainig mise gus do thoirt air falbh and I have come to take you out as a seo. Tha ciste do mhathair ann an of here. Your mother’s chest is in the oisein an t-seomair, agus cuir ropa oirre corner of the room, tie it up with a rope, agus leig a nuas agamsa i, agus thig fhein and lower it down to me, and come yourself as a deigh, agus feir mise thu gu àite after it, and I will take you to a place anns am bi thu saor o bhoidean t athar where you will be free from the vows of your father’s

The unknown graves of the Mackerinans Called Caldragh in Townland Fyhoria parish parush of Drummard N. Longford. In an article in the Belfast weekly News by an unknown writer describing the Mannot of Artva and its orange Lodges same Ten years ago, it was wound up by a declaration that the writer never knew how the Mannot came by its name. In coming home from the fair of Yalleshandra on the 22nd of June 1908, I got into conversation with an old man named Ne Kevrman, who gave me the following traditional history of his people with such earnestness and with deep effected feeling that I still believe it to be True. He stated that his forefathers owned all the land around Killeshandra, and on to Aova, but that by their taking the part of king James against King Welliam in the war at that time, they were hunted from their homes, chased into the country Longford where they were surrounded slaughtered and buried in a place named Galdragh. He knew the very place. I learned that not one Catholic man or woman in the parish of Drumard know anything about who are buried in that unconsecrated grave ground, or from whence they came. There is a mearing running through the plot of ground dividing it between a protestant and a catholic former, and human bones are dug up whenever any of those two fields are laboured. I heard a labouring man telling 50 years ago that while he was labouring close to those graves he was turning up mens' shin bones. I would never know who were buried there only for having met with that old mean. P Sam Duffy. Febr 22nd 1929

churning. It was for luck they used to do it or for fear that the butter would be brought from them an' signs were on they they used to have a lot o' butter always. When my mother had the churnin made always she used to take a cup o' the butter milk hersel' first before she would give a task oo (=of) it to anyone else. She used to tell us to do that as well an that we'd always keep the butter. Throth I do that mysel' as well. I always take the first cup o' the buttermilk mysel'.

When churning
The old people knew a lot o' things that the young people today know nothing about. Its many the thing they used to do when they used to be

take the band and tie it around eachother or maybe to tie the dog with it for fun or such as that. She was to caution us often not to do it or that it wasn't lucky to do it. As soon as she used to be finnished with the spinning she would take the band and put it hiding somewhere so that anyone would not get it until she wanted it for spinning again herself.

The spinning wheel band
I often heard my mother sayin' the Lord be good to her I often heard her sayin that you should not use the band of a spinning wheel for anything else only what it was for or that was awful unlucky. I know when we were small an' she used to be spinning that sometimes when we'd get a chance of her that we'd

churning made she used to take up the churn stuff as we do now an' wash the butter down off it into the churn. Then she used to take the churn in her two hands and it used to stand over the churn and bring the churn stuff three times around it. After that she would make the sign of the cross over the churn with it three times as well. It was for luck that she used to do that as well in order to keep the butter always hersel'.

The sign of the cross with churn stuff
An' this is another thing that my mother used to do, the Lord be merciful to her. Always when she had the

know people that do it now even. When they start the churning they put a horseshoe in the fire. They say that the butter cannot be brought as long as they horse-shoe is in the fire. They say also that if you put the horseshoe in the fire that it will not take as long to make the churning either. They say that when the horseshoe in the fire is red the churning is made. I know the people that do that dont take long makin' the churning anyway. I know that myself.

superstitions. It is very unlucky to meet a red haired barefooted woman on the road first in the morning. A man was going to pig fair in the Longford from just beside Mohill. As he was going he met a red haired woman. When he was about to of into Longford he heard the fair was not going to be held. It started to our rain so he was drenched to the skin when he reached home. He had his journey for nothing.
It is not lucky to throw out anything on May Day or you are throwing away all your luck: If you bring in something the first thing you will have a very prosperous year. It is not right to threw out the ashes. If you see a frog on May Day it is said you will shed as much tears as the frog would swim in before that day twelve months. I know a girl who saw the frog and her mother died very soon after so she cried a good bit. Another old custom is to gather a big lunch of wild flowers the day before May Day and scatter them outside each door around

The old people used to say : Raghaimid soir go dtí'n Graidhn when they were going to Scartiglen and they used call the boys there. The Coigreach boys.
The correct name for the Scartiglen is Sgairteach an Ghloine. There was a bush on the bank of the river there and all the old broken plates and cups used be thrown under that bush. There were several families of the Connors in the

There is a place in the Lep (Priest's 'Lep') Road and if you went out on the grass there you'd get hungry and if you hadn't a bit to ate you'd drop dead. They call it Na Cloca Gréine. 'Tis hungry-grass that's growing there. 'Twas Mike Staley of Carn the man who told me about Teampaillín Fiacna that told me not to walk on it. There was a lot of people 'kilt' (killed) there. -
The priest lept from his enemies there in the Priests

arsan truth.
Do chuadar ansa n-imirt agus do bhuaig sí air. "Túbhair do bhreith," arsa Fionn. "Cuirim-se mar bhreith agus mar cheist agus mar chleasa droma draoídheachta ort," ar sise "fios fáth an aga' 'n scéil do thúbhairt chúgham agus banbh do thúbhairt chúgham ó'n gcráin bhradaí atá a' Rí Oileán na bhFear do racha agus gan aon duine bheith in aoch leat ach an mac máthar is measa tá ar an bhFéin." Do dh'fhill Fionn abhaile agus do tháini' sé isteach , do sháigh sé fhorc ansa bhfeóil agus do thairrg sé chathaoir siar ó'n mbórd. D'fhiafhruíodar do ca' na thaobh ná raibh sé ag ithe. Dubhairt sé ná raibh. "Gud é 'n mí-shásamh a bhuail

it wasn't lucky for a person to meet a copper coin on the road if he was going on a journey. They used to say that it would be better for you to return home again an' postpone the journey if you met a copper coin. But they say that it is lucky enough to meet a silver coin if you are going [?]. I know people mysel' an' they'd return home again if they met a copper coin on the road. Other people take no notice of it. I know that mysel'.Child's First Teeth
This si another thing that the oul' people used to say an' I believe that it is true as well

fear that he might not carry out St Martin's order right! The young boy of a neighbor came in for his full halve o' the pig!
When Ross Duffy's Children Were Confirmed. Ross Duffy was one of the [?] [?] that same up from the North of Ireland and settled in the Shaban Oir mountain. He was very poor like all the more o' the Shab an Oir people and his children lived too far away from the school and could not go to any school. The time o' confirmation was coming on and Ross had to teach all the prayers and [?] to his children beside the flog o' the fire. The day o' the confirmation they had to attend along with the rest o' the school- children and twas Bishop Gilmaitin was confirming. When he came to Ross Duffy's children he asked them

and white pig- and the pig got sick on him, and according to the old fashion he drew the pigs ear for St Martin.
That was what they called offering the pig up to St Martin. If you did that you'd have to kill the pig for St Martin's day. At any rate Sean Cron's pig got all right again, and Sean was making up his mind to sell the pig. Sean had three daughters and he used be always praying that he'd have a son. Turns the wild o' God that he had a son Sean Cron. St Martin's eve came along and there was no sign o' Sean Cron killing the pig. We'll there was a young man in the neighborhood and turns he that stood for young Sean Cron the day they babtised him,

to go out working outside she used leave the child on the old woman's lap and the old woman would mind that child as careful as ever you saw although she never laid an eye on the child. This day they noticed the odl woman very drowsy in her- say, and they asked him if it was the way that she was not feeling well. "Put me into bed now" says she, "and I won't be of any trouble to ye only three days more" They put her into bed, and she was dead on the third day after going to bed. Her death was fore-shown to her.
Sean Cron Chad The Sick Pig That He Offered Up To Saint Martin. I know Sean Cron well. He was a poor farmer that lived in Douce Ui [?]. Sean had a pig- a black

and she had not seen a stim for thirty years before her death. No one ever heard one word o' complaint out of her mouth on account of she being without the sight. You'd pity her to see her going around the house and her two hands stretched out from her and she trying to be feeling her way before her. Every day that the sun would rise on her she used to say the three Hail Marys in honour o' the Blessed Virgin Mary.
A young woman married into the house them, and no one ever heard a cross- word between the young woman and the old woman. If the dinner was ready at the table the young woman would nottaste one bite until the old woman would be sitting beside her at the table. They had a great nature for one another. [?] the young woman would have

and took the skillet o' milk and ran out the door with it and threw it up on a white-thorn bush that was growing a bit out from the door. We were small at the time and we asked her what she done that for. "[?]" "And why did you throw it on the bush?" ways we. "The devil's dogs will like a long time to come at the milk when they have to go through the thorns." says she.
The Old Woman That Foretold Her Death. She lived in Douce Ui [?]. She was a very holy old woman, and every thing she'd do during the day she used to offer it up to God. The poor woman was "dark" (blind)

If it so happens that the clothes will not fit this friend, then he'll put on so much as will fit anyway comfortably or respectably, and he (or she) puts the rest in a parcel and brings them to mass under the coat or shawl as the case may be for the three Sundays.
There was a man living near Kenmore and he used always were short breeches. When he got old, he got on ordinary long pants, and one day, soon after making the change the priest met him and he asked why was it that he gave up the breeches. "Oh, well Father," says he, "I'll want a suit in the next world, and sure no one would wear these breeches for me." He was afraid anyone wouldn't wear the clothes for him, after his death.

affair. When he came back to the woman he made no wonder at all of it but said- would, should,"- not to say anymore
Wearing of clothes for the dead. This is a custom which is still alivein this district. When a person dies, the clothes are put out on a chair following Saturday evening, and a sprinkle of holy water put on them and then the dead person is called on. They are taken in then after dusk. Other people give the dead persons clothes to some friend, and that person wears the clothes to mass on three consecutive Sundays following the person's death. If this friend happens to be from a strange parish he must wear them one Sunday in the parish of the dead person.

Trinity Well. Termonfeckin a village situated in County Louth north of the R. Boyne and about 5 miles from Drogheda is famous for one Holy Well called Trinity Well.
It is situated in St. Fechins Valley at the foot of a hill called Laney Hill. The new Catholic Church which was built in the year 1883 stands on a hill opposite to the well and is separated from it by the Boyne Rd., which leads to Baltray and Drogheda. It can be plainly seen from the road as it is whitewashed and the stone structure over the well has a cement cross. At the back of the well is an immense beech tree and to the left is a large horse chestnut. In front, a few yards away from the well stands a hawthorn bush. It was first an ordinary well and about 30 years ago the village people built the stone around it but it has no protecting well. The stone cross over the well was one of the crosses that was broken when the new church was being built. It is not whitewashed. Outside the well are a number of large flat stones for walking on as this is generally very soft in the winter. There is a long path from the well to the road. B.O. Plunkett used to baptize children at this well and baptizing

Cill Micíl (continued)
From con Dennehy.Church land - The Globe. There was a bit of landgoing with the old church at Cill Micíl. This piece of land was called "the globe". It is now divided up into the different forms (?). The islanders held that it was the worst fertile strip of land in the whole island. This Globe was bounded by four stones which bear the following names ; Garraidhe Árd, Crathach, Gort na Cille and Leadhb na Gabhar. (Rather there are the names of the places where the stones are). The stone at Crathach has been removed and the other three are there yet. The above rocks were about 300 yds. apart and the total area of the Globe was about 30 acres. The Church was at the centre of the space enclosed. In later times this land became the property of the land lord who had as its Ceithearuach or care taker one of the O'Sullivan family who built the tomb at the Abby burial ground.(I will speak of this later)

The Cóiste Bodhar or Headless Coach was the name given to a vehicle that used to travel across the country by night and used be heard by people that would be out or working after midnight on Saturday night.
An old dressmaker named Ellen Cushen had the habit of remaining up sewing after midnight on Saturday nights. She used to have a great deal of work and would try and be ready for her customers on Sunday Morning when they would come to Kilmihil to Mass. On this particular Saturday night Ellen had two helpers with her and they continued to work after midnight though several people had advised them not to do so on previous occasions. Some time after one o'clock they heard the great rattling of stones and the noise as of a big car coming down the fields over fences etc. towards the house. It stopped right outside the window and after a while it went off to the west and many of the neighbours heard it going back

Tailors.At present there are no travelling tailors around the country. About twenty years ago tailors went around from house to house wherever a job was to be found.
Now all tailors live in a village or town. There was a tailor living in this locality long ago by the name of Smyth. When he was young he was taken out of the County Home, when he was a little boy and was taught his trade by another tailor. But one day a strange lady came to him dressed in fine clothes, she inquired of him if he was James Smyth. He said he

when it is dry it is
taken home and put into a machin called a breaker. It must then be scatched and cloved with a clorin tongo and then it must be hackled.The hackle is a long piece of wood with steel teeth and they are about six inches long. The flax has to be drawn through to get rid of the coarser part of tow. The next operation is to to spin it into hanks, it must then be boiled with washing soda or better still with kelps. Then it has to be wound up in balls. After this it has to be wound wrapped up to get it ready for the weaver. Warping is putting the thread up in a timber frame to make skeines before it is brought

Making of "Dowlas".Flax is cultivated in good heavy soil. The ground has to be either dug or ploughed, and the flax is shaken or spread there, and harrowed lightly.
After a month's growth it is covered with blue flowers. The flowers fade away and then the stalk turns brown. Then it has to be pulled from the ground and tied up in small sheaves. It has then to be taken then to a pond, it must be covered over with water and left there for a fortnight. It has then to be taken to a clean field and spread out, it has to be left there for two or three weeks to be bleached by the sun and dew. It then turns white.

Luni on the Lop. Then found the car righted before Nam and the horse tired to the back of it. Who did it but the 'good people'?Somebody: Wasn't she Norry Poor (ie. Power)
Zadz: No Norry Poor lives in a cabin beside the Popo's River, near where the metal bridge is now (see map page Sarsfield parked by her house and called Nore on his way to Bade on Faoiziz. Twas here that Galloping Hogan shot Ne war Hal wanted to see Sarsfield. Joseph Hammansky (Dwellers Twasn't, but at Ballyhore Bridge and it was there he saw his horses shod. Mal Flood Ref Dwelling Doesn't the whole world know that he shod his horses in Crocān na bfear. where Buckley has the land now SARSFIELD'S Well and he watered his horses in Sarsfield' Weel. Red pool in Gleeson's Logyard (Co. Paris Borony.

There was a poor widow and her son lived in Kilrush long ago. She was called Shelia Grady or more commonly she was called "Shelia [?]," and the son was Paddy.
They had a little house from wan of the gentry who lived in Kilrush he was [Nickleson?] Shelia used to do odd jobs around the big house for her diet and payment for her little house, and she used to get a jug of soup and some bread to take home to Paddy. Paddy was a half witted poor lad

Tis a long, long time ago, there was a wake above there at Pike.
He was a poor man, he came into a little 'housheen' belonging to [Baltimor?] as a 'labouring man' He wasn't too long there when the poor man died. I don't know now because I only heard the story, whether the man had many in family, or any family at all, but I know his wife who was living with him when he died She was a "[mohaolach?]" sort of a little

Long ago there was a man and a woman carried astray on the gravely road.
People now don't believe thar was a very lonesome road but I knew old people, and they were, I think as brave as the young people now, and they wouldn't travel that same road after dark except on very urgent business. But about the man and the woman that were carried astray. I remember to hear both of them telling it.

I am still paying a tithe rent to the Protestant Church.
This hard to have to do it, but I'll tell you how it is. When I brought this place, 'twas a Protestant lived here and as you know the troubled times hunted a good many big Protestants out of the country, but the man that had this place was a big support to the parish church, so when he was selling out, he put it down as one of the

the contrary. when the cows' agony is prolonged, the cow becomes weak, and this causes the retention of the after birth. Should there be trouble at calving time, there is a "quack" in almost every district. some knowing man, who is called if his services are needed.
They are men of practical experience and can be trusted, they work only among their immediate neighbours, and receive no payment or reward for their services, neither would they accept it, if offered. A 'dropeen' when their work is finished, and when cow and calf are alright. It is the dread that something 'may' be amiss that prompts the average farmer to keep such a close watch on the cow at this critical stage

For curds in the stomach of a calf give him four ounces of castor oil twice a week.

They generally get a bottle of linseed oil for a cough, and you have to keep them in a warm place till they get better.

Danilín lived with his mother and there were only two there and they had there cows; in the finial he said to himself "Mother I'm old enough to get married." The king's daughter was ackerlīoid[?] for marriage and they had to knock three laughs out of her to get her. So this day Danilín said to his Mother "Mother" says he "I have no money to go courting and I'l have to carry one of the cows to the fair. "Dan don't" says his mother "two cows are no good take the three and make something out of them" So Dan got up in the morning and looked East and West told God to direct him and if not, not to mind

A remedy for cow-pock is to rub castor oil on to the udder and teats. Vaseline is also good.

a half pound of it on each side of the lung. Cover the blisters with paper and cover the beast with a bag to keep her warm. It would be all the better if you gave her a stimulant, such as a naggin of whiskey. If it is a bad case you should put on a second blister next day. Put on a higher blister the second time.

Mustard blisters are good for lung disease in cattle. Use about a pound of mustard - and put

Mustard blisters are good for lung disease in cattle. Use about a pound of mustard - and put

Mustard blisters are good for lung disease in cattle. Use about a pound of mustard - and put

There was [box?] in Colligan & my father dreamt that there was money in it so begor himself & Pat Casey & Bill Moylan went off one night to get the crock & they carried a match cock with them. They went off & they brought spades & gros & shovels with them &

In the ould houses there used to be a cliach put over the door & a cock-a match cock brought in to protect the house. You wouldn't see that at all now.

They saw that a gold ring to nab it to a stye on the eye that the wring would cure it.

in looking around they saw the same object again.
They were about half a mile from land when a fierce storm rose. The boat was tossed about on the sea the fisherman got so frightened they used all their strength in pulling the boat to land. After a long and tiresome struggle in the sea they landed in [Rosdoha?] goleen. They pulled up the boats. When every thing was done it was about eight o clock at night. The men walk from [sreem?] to Bunaw on that night and left their boat and [ne?]

away his oar. The men in the four other oars piled the boat. The man that put away his oar and the man that steared threw the scare in the water. The seine boat started to surround the fish. the man in the stem of the boat had a lot of stones near him. According as the boat was going {around?} along he was pegging a stoone out side the fish. the meaning of pegginng the stones was to keep the boat so as to set their seiene in a bow. And to reach the other boat before they had it all thrown into the water. Very often the seine was in the water before they could

lá agus blíadhain (bliain) go dtugfa trifle foghluim dá acht go b'é eagla orm" ar seisean "Go mbéadh fearg ar mo bhean!
"Ó ní bhéidh" arsa'n fear uasal "Dheanfamuid mar seo" ar seisean "Bí thusa annseo indin (indiu?) arais" ar seisean "fá chionn lá agus blíadhain agus béidh mise arais agus do ghasur liom" Bhí go maith agus ní rabh go h-olc. Fuaidh'n t-am thart go dtenaic a lá agus a bhlíadhain. Fuaidh'n t-iascaire go dtí'n talamh céadhna arais. Ní rabh se i bhfad a fanacht gur nucht (nocht) a fear uasal isteach chuige ar bhárr na dtonn agus a dá ghasur leis. Thenaictheas do'n iascaire nach rabh "Dómhnall Beag" cómh maith leis a gasur eile amach. Bheannuigh'n fear uasal dó agus bheannuigh seisean do'n fhear uasal ins na bríathra bhí acu'n uair sin. Bhí aithne ní b'fheár acu ar a chéile an lá sin. "Tá se leat arais" arsa'n t-iascaire "Goide mar tá tú ag cur isteach, a Dhómhnaill Bhig" arsa'n t-athair? "Tá go maith" arsa Dómhnall "Tcíthear damh" arsa'n t-athair "nach bhfuil tú cómh maith leis a gasur eile go foill" "Is gann damh" arsa Dómhnall "Dá mbíodh se liomsa lá is blíadhain eile" arsa'n fear uasal "Bhéad sé lán cómh maith leis" "Bhéul, margadh e" arsa'n t-iascaire "Tabhair leat arais e ach bí annseo" ar seisean "fa chionn lá agus blíadhain agus casfa

The Woman That Used Come Back To Nurse Child
A man and his wife lived in {?}. They had one child. When the child was six months old, the mother became ill and died. Strange to say that mother used come to the home each night at twelve o'clock, and give breast-milk to the child. She used come every night, and in the long {?} her husband used have food on the table for her. This night her waited 'til she came in, and asked her why she was comin'. "I'm under the spell

Donnaca to hunt the hare. The hunt started and the hare made straight for this man and shouted to him in Irish "Sabail m'anam oam." He took the hare up in his arms, and declared the hunt over. When all had gone home he gave the hare his liberty again. A few days time this man's horse disappeared from his farm, and he went to look for her.
Going back through Rahasne he noticed a little house on the side of the road, and went in to enquire. A little woman came to the door and welcomed him in his name and sir-name. He was surprised at this. Then she said to him in Irish: "{?}" ("Do you remember the dog you saved my life at Poll Ui Donnaca farm?") "Takes this halter," says she, "and go out and call your horse." to him. He thanked the woman and took the horse home.

the back of Riocard's neck did not appear on the man that was left in his place. The wife got alarmed and she went and told the priest.
At my rate the priest got him out of the fairies. Himself and my grand-father were coming home late one evening from a funeral, on a pair of horses. When might had fallen two candles lit on Timmy's pony's ears, and both of them were swept into the rocks a quarter of a mile away. Timmy's horse was killed but himself was un-injured. The remarkable thing was that no dog ever went near the carcase of the dead horse- she had been taken by the fairies. An Enchanted Home. There used to be an enchanted home in Poll Ui Domaca and she was a black one. The young lads of the place made it up between then that they would kill the hare. They were advised by an old man to haunt the home with a black hound having no white spot. They got a pure black hound and this Sunday they went to Poll Ui

A Man That Was Taken
"My father used to tell me that a man named Riocard Tinney was taken by the fairies. He used by going in them and coming back, but whenever he used be gone there used to be someone she left in his place. Often I heard him saying that Riocard used be brought to babtism to stand for children while he was in {?}. One morning only Riocard's wife noticed that the want that used be on

And he took off his over coat and laid it up on the riel of hay and the lad ceres in the hay so he got up out of it and took out his penknife and 'twas a big freize[?] top coat and he turned up the collar and he cut a round bit out of it. So 'twas true[?] for him he heard the murder and they brought out the old man and buried him. So he started off for home next morning and didn't say a word to anyone about what happened. He didn't reach home until late in the night and he opened the door and went in and he had his cake and when he got the mead in the other place he didn't eat a bit of it so he lit the light and went down to the door where he thought his wife would be and the child was so big he was four years at this time that he thought it was another husband she was after marrying and he ran up to the dresser and got his iagor[?] to eat this etioats[?]

raibh sé sásta dul fé chíos do má dhíbreóch sé lucht na tíorach uaig. "be' me chút" arsa Stúird leis "ar a dó a chlog amáireach". Bhí sé a' faire i ruch a' lae nú go raibh sé a dó a chlog ner a chnoic sé a' góilt anuas a' sliav iad 7 (agus) bhí chúig chapaill déag 7 (agus) fiche istigh thuas ar pháirc thrí gcúinne a bhí aige 7 (agus) iad a' líona ualaí ner a chnoicuíodar na saighdiúirí a' teacht. D'imíordar leó chú mear is do bhí 'cu 7 (agus) neacaig aoinne ó choin ar an áit iad igceann deich mbliana 'na dhia' san.

An áit ibuilim-se im chúnaí, bhí sé 'na shliabh dubh er a tháinig mo shin seanaithair ann chéad uair. Din sé tig beag ann 7 (agus) dréir mar a bhí tig déanta aige do leagtaí é. Bhíoch daoine go leor a' teacht aníos ó thaobh na tíorach a' taraint gar 7 (agus) múna ón áit seo chun é chuir amach ar a gcuid fhéin talún ....
[Deire fiteáin 157 tosach fiteáin 158] Bhídís a' taraint gar 7 (agus) á chuir amach ar a gcuid fhéin talún. bhí'n fear bocht cún cráite 'cu 7 (agus) iad a' leagaint gahaon phíosa chlaí a dhéineach sé 7 (agus) á léibhéala. D'ime sé aon lá amháin dtí Drom Anna, dtí an maighistir a bhí ann a dtugaidís seana-Stiúrd air 7 (agus) nis sé a chúrsa dho, go

It has always been the custom here as in many other districts along the shore, to fish gunner on the rock, with a hand-line or cliob (rod and line). The bait generally used a is the crab or log (lug — baoithe lugach).

Cart is the name given to an instrument by means of which snouding for spillers was doubled or trebled — according to the strength of snouding required. The Cart is still used here in constructing light spillers for fluke fishing.

means of livelihood when he was young — seventy years ago. Nets, hand-lines and spillers comprised the fishing gear of those days. The nets were used for herrings throughout the Winter months; spillers were used in fishing for ling during February and March. While fishing for ling the boats used go away out to sea — often losing sight of High Island (about three miles west of Omey). The hand-line was used in fishing for gurnet although a fair quantity of this type of fish was taken with the spillers. Each individual fisherman cured his own share of the fish: and boats came regularly from Galway to buy the fish and take it away.

My informant who is a man of ninety years of age says that fishing was the chief

Fishing. There is practically little or no fishing done here now with the exception of lobstering and a little pollock fishing. Pollock are generally salted and dried and kept for the winter as kitchen for potatoes. However, up to about ten years ago the people of this island did much pollock fishing throughout the summer and often went as far as Letterfrack and Clifden with ass-and-baskets selling the fresh fish. The women were as often on the road as the men.

Although at one time the row-boat was the only type of boat known here or in the neighbouring districts, there is not a trace of such boat today — its place being taken by the currach, but there are only five currachs in the island today. And my informant says that up to fifty years ago there was only currach in all this district, and that currach was in the townland of Aughrismore. At that time people thought so little of this type of boat, that they scorned the idea of fishing with it.

best hurley. Hurling and Cluife Coh were the only games played and known here up to fifty years ago.

My informant says he remembers seeing as many as forty young men on each side hurling on the beach of Trágh Dúmhach (on the south-west side) every bonfire night. The balls used were made of thread and hurleys were cut in the neighbourhood of Clifden and Derrylea (five miles east of Clifden). The furze bush provided the

níl pian 's níl peannú 's níl galra trom cráidhtí
níos mú ná éag na gcarad ná scarú na gcompánach.IV. Bu tú seabhae na coille craobhaighe, bu tú éan chlainne Maoise, Bu tú an buinneán ró Éireann; 'sé mo léan thú a ḃheiṫh claoiḋhtí Bu tú caraid croidhe mo chléibh arsa éadraí le Maoise Nú a dtioctha tú go m'eagcaoins lá éigin gon mhí seo. V. D'ólthainn ugus d'ólthainn ugus d'ólthainn an mhaoin leat Gur á mbeinn-se ar bhord luinge 's go n-ólthainn an fíon leat, Á mbeinn-se i mo bhanaltrach is lághach a ḋ'iolthinn do chlann duit 'Gus á mbudh lom péin Sasanaí go dtiúbharthainn g'aortáinte duit. VI. Baramhail go mo bharamail go ḃhfuilim féin réidh leat, Ugus baramhail go mo bharamhail go ndeacha tú i gcré uaim, Ó ḃhí sé insa gCineamhaint sinn a scarú ó n-a chéile Mo dhian-ghrádh agus m'anam thú ugus beannacht Mhic Dé leat. " " " " " " [This song was recorded from Michael Toole, (82), of Barratorebeg, Clare Island, Co. Mayo.]

Carolan and McCabe were two fiddlers of the itinerant class, who, on one occasion, as they were taking different routes, solemnly pledged themselves to return to that place at the end of a year. But when Carolan returned, McCabe was dead and buried. He disbelieved it at first but on being shown the grave with its fresh earth he was convinced: so he sat on his comrade's grave and composed the following song:-I.
Is thom bocht mise ⁊ oireach mé 'réis mo shiúbhail Ar uaigh mo charad 's go bhfearthaí sin raedharc mo shúl; Ní bhfuair mise agam 's mé sileamhaint na ndeor go h-úmhal, Ach an chruaidh-leach cloiche 'gus leabaidh gon chré a ḃhí fuar. II. Ní cathaoir mo chathaoir mur cathaoir na ndaoiní, Gus ní cathaoir mo chathaoir mur chathaoir na ríghṫí, Níor caitheaḋ aon chathaoir ó chruithigh Dia an díleann Ní ḃfhearr ná mo chathaoir, 'sí cathaoir a t-samsa í. III. Is tréan mo labhairt 's ní mheasaim gur chúis náire é, Ós gur buachaill bocht sgoiṫtí mé ó chaill mé mo chúl báire,

Bha siud(?) ann roimhe so duine - uasal
There was once upon a time a nobleman agus phòs e bean riomhach, eireachdail and he married a wife, beautiful and handsome, nach robh a leithid (?) anns an duthaich. whose equal was not to be found in the country Nuair rachadh i na h-èideadh, bhà When arrayed in all her finery, she in na eulaidh fhearmaid do mhnathan na was an object of envy to all the women A(?) sgìreachd gu leir. Bha a fear-pòsda of the country. Her husband was a smaointinn nach robh ni air an talamh thinking that there was nothing on earth briagha gu leor air a son(?), agus thug e dhi beautiful enough for her, and he gave her gùn air dhreach nan reul, gùn de iteagan a gown of the colour of the stars, a gown of bird - nan eun, agus gùn de Chanach an t-Slèibhe feathers, and a gown of Cannoch Thus e dhi cuideachd bròg òir is brog He also gave her a golden shoe, and a airgid; agus cùr, a dh-fhàgadh taobh

Bha siud(?) ann roimhe so duine - uasal
There was once upon a time a nobleman agus phòs e bean riomhach, eireachdail and he married a wife, beautiful and handsome, nach robh a leithid (?) anns an duthaich. whose equal was not to be found in the country Nuair rachadh i na h-èideadh, bhà When arrayed in all her finery, she in na eulaidh fhearmaid do mhnathan na was an object of envy to all the women A(?) sgìreachd gu leir. Bha a fear-pòsda of the country. Her husband was a smaointinn nach robh ni air an talamh thinking that there was nothing on earth briagha gu leor air a son(?), agus thug e dhi beautiful enough for her, and he gave her gùn air dhreach nan reul, gùn de iteagan a gown of the colour of the stars, a gown of bird - nan eun, agus gùn de Chanach an t-Slèibhe feathers, and a gown of Cannoch Thus e dhi cuideachd bròg òir is brog He also gave her a golden shoe, and a airgid; agus cùr, a dh-fhàgadh taobh

MyThe curing of Moll Leoney, the bean cabhrach.My Grandmother, Moll Leoney ine time got a sore leg. We didn't know what was wrong with it.
It must have been some kind of a fairy stroke you know. The leg was sore for about three months and hand't a sign of getting better. One day she called in the ould fellow (his father) and told him to tackle the best horse they had and to go and find Moll Buckley and not return without her. That ould Jack (his grandfather) had three great horses for he owned three farms at that time. The ould fellow

23. Lochán Mainín. (Possibly, Lochán a' Mhúinín).24. Cnoc a' Tóir. (Possibly Cnoc a' Tuair).
25. Cnoc an Iorla. At one time an eagle used to nest on the summit of "Buachaill" west of Shark Head, and while returning to its nest with its prey it would alight and rest itself on this hill. Hence the above name. 26. Cnoc an Fhionaigh. The highest of the island's pinnacles. 27. Gort. All the arable lands which lie between Port (the harbour) and that field farthest north are known as "Gort". Each individual holding is also known as "Gort", as it is here the majority of landholders sowed their crops, and they are still the main tilling lands. 28. Bínn a' Phuirt. This consists in a narrow strip of land stretch from "Port" (harbour) to Cnocán Fhuaighe an' Choinnleora (1), deriving its name from "Port".

of an acre: it is well protected with large stone-walls on the east and north sides, but there is no such wall safeguarding it from the precipitous cliff which it overhangs. Few people are interred in this cemetery, save young children, and elderly folk whose desire it is to be buried here, or those who, owing to the intervention of rough weather, cannot be brought to the Parish Cemetery in Inishbofin.21. Port. This is the Inishark Harbour. It has a quay on either side and a newly constructed slip. The boats are hauled up on this slip and secured beneath the mortary embankment which stands at the upper extremity of the slip.
22. Cnoc na Móna. It is here that the entire island cut its turf in former years, but now however there is no turf to be had here.

rich grazing pasture and it was customary for the islanders to rive all cattle and sheep thither every nght throughout the summer. There also prevailed the practice of collecting and churning the milk in this enclave, but it is not known whether huts were erected for the purpose of storing the milk until ready for churning.Creig Lia
19. At this spot is a small rocky mound known as Creig Lia, which is supposed to contain a fairy palace. The custom still prevails amongst the younger population of this island to travel to this spot All-Hallow's Night, all imbued with a keen desire of hearing the fairy music, and virtually wait for a considerable time and play music in the meantime so as to entice the fairies to reciprocate. 20. Roilic Inis Eairc. This cemetary contains about one-eighth

Clifden, that the slating for some of the houses first built in that town was quarried in the island of Inishark.17. Between the cove known as "Fuaigh Dilisg", and that known as "Fuaigh na gCailleach" are old walls dividing the entire area as between the seashore and a point 300 yards inland into small fields. These walls, according to local tradition, were constructed by the Danes or "Dáiníní" as the natives term them. One of these fields containing two roads has a perfectly circular surrounding wall.
18. This marks the site of the ancient mearing wall erected for the purpose of separating all of the mountain west of it from the remainder of the island. None of the inhabitants was permitted to cut turf west of the mearing fence as at that time it contained

Nobber Fair used to be held on a Monday, and a long time ago they changed it to Tuesday. And this is why it was changed:- There was a row one day at the fair and pikes were used in the row. One boy got a blow of some sharp instrument, and it cut the head clear off his body. The head hopped on the street, and it spoke and said “Never again Nobber on Monday.” And that was why the day of the fair was changed to Tuesday.

Deignan’s. And he saw a crowd of lads playing football. He walked on and took no interest in them. One of them gave the ball a kick and the ball struck his leg. It hit him so hard that he got lame, and he went home and never was able to walk again - he was a cripple for the rest of his life.

Fairy Footballers - Long ago there was a fellow called John Dunne, living at Tullyatten, and one night he was on his kailey in Peter Monaghan’s of Corrabuggy and when he was going home he was crossing a field of Johnny

of a circular wall, the diameter of the circle thus created being 15 feet, and the foundation of the wall itself two feet broad.14. [as the result of an error, no. 14 has been placed after no. 15, but each passage is correctly placed under its corresponding number]. Here again may be seen the remains of a circular wall, encompassing an enclosure 12 feet in diameter. It stands within a few feet of the brink of the seashore. The floor of the enclosure is over two feet below the level of the surrounding wall.
16. In this spot is a quarry, immediately north of the road, where it is said, slates were once quarried, some of which slates may still be seen in the roofing of the old police-barrack in the townland of Faunmore in Inishbofin. I have also heard from an authoritative source in the town of

13. Here on another unfenced piece of land was the site on white the game known as "cluife cora" was played. Immediately above this on the side of Cnoc Leo, the island population took up their positions as spectators. [A description of this game has already been forwarded to the Folklore Commission].15. Here in this spot near the bogs known as "Portaigh Chroise Muire" are the remains of a rather quaint building. Only a few stones of the wall are all that remain but the foundation is easily discernable: the west portion being circular and the other end rectangular, the entire length being 18 feet and the diameter of the circular portion, 10 feet, and the breadth of the rectangle 6 feet.
In the south-west of the building mentioned above about 100 yards distant are the remains

ancient shrine. Both these shrines are in the same garden. Somewhere near these shrines was found the sone-font which is now in the custody of Leo's Chapel and I have also heard it being said that it was in this very garden, was exhumed the stone cross which dominates the apex of the east gable of Leo's Chapel. (vide, 5)12. Here on this unfenced piece of land it was the custom of the male inhabitants of the island to congregate on summer evenings to play games. The following were the games played at this particular spot:- "caidhbhdí"; "coinisíní"; and "cead a' chláirín." While the games were being proceeded with the entire island population dominated the hillside of Leo's Hill which served as an excellent grand-stand. [a description of these games is already in the possession of the Folklore Commission].

10. Fuaigh Leo, or Leo's Cove: Beneath a mortary bank on the east side of Leo's Cove is Leo's Holy Well.11. An ancient shrine: Immediately west of Leo's Chapel -- about twenty yards distant -- and at the south-east corner of the gable of Patrick Murray's dwelling-house is a stone flag firmly place in the earth and the upper portion of which stands three feet above the surface. It is not known if this shrine was of greater dimensions or at one time was the site of a more voluminous stone-heap, but the tradition exists--and I have this tradition from the owner of the garden in which this stone stands, and he acquired the information from his mother--that in former times it was customary for pilgrims to perform a pilgrimage at this very stone. About twenty yards due south of this stone can be seen two small upright flags, placed in a semi-circular position, which it is said are the remaining fragments of another

Bean naomhthago mbeadh sí 'na bean ósta 'ti' 'n óil ?

indiu gur luan é 7 annsan dhfan sé mar sin arfeag roinnt laethannta gur tháinigh lá troiscí.
Nuair a tháinigh an lá troiscí sérd a chuireadar roimh an bhfear bocht chun a dhinnéar acht feóil. Shuidh sé gen mbórd 7 bhí pláta feola leactha roimhe (rye) 7 ner a thosna se (ner) a thosna sé chun an fheoil a ithe dhein iasc dhen bhfeóil ins a bpláta 7 dh'ith sé a t-iasc 7 dh'imthigheadar annsan na seirbhísigh seo go dtí an pápa 7 niseadar a scéal do gur dh'ith sé (an) fheóil an lá troiscí seo 7 rud eile ná leigfeadh sé féineach (dóibh é) a bhearra Dé Luan mar ná beadh sé ceart.Deire Fiteáin 2. + Tosach Fiteáin 3. (---- agus) cheistigh an pápa dé chúis ar dh'ith sé feóil lá troiscí. Dúirt a' fear so nár ith sé fhéineach aon fheoil sé rud a dh'ith sé nach iasc 7 dfhearhuigh an Pápa dhe dé chúis ná ligfeadh sé a ghruaig a bhearra dhe Dé Luain bhoil Dúirt sé sin go n-airíoch sé ge seandaoine sa mbaile in Éire ná bheadh sé ceart do ghruaig a bhearra Dé Luain. Ó arsaigh an Pápa, sin peaca mhór duit-se 7 seo peaca eile mór (guth? ró-íseal) caithfhe mé pionós/-ú- a chur ort anois arsaigh an Pápa mar gheall ar a bpeaca so

[Tá an Ghaedhluinn lag aige. 7 an chuid steargáin a baint leis ná bheadh ag fíor-sheanchuidhe a mbheadh an Ghaedhluinn ar a dheis aige]. [Mar gheall air sin is deocair é thuiscint].Chuaidh a' fear so annsan chun a' pápa dh'fheiscint

Seán Bráthair 7 Bearradh LuainBhí fear bhocht, bhí fear bocht in Éire fadó 7 bhí sé 'na fhear mhaith. Ní raibh aon tsásamh air annsan go bhfeiceóch sé an pápa sa Róimh (Rúimh). D'imthigh sé leis, amach chun an pápa dh'fheiscint 7 ner a chuaidh sé dtín Rúimh bhí na, bhí na seirbhísigh a bhí gen Pápa roimhe (rye) acht níor bhearraigh a' fear bocht so é féineach riamh na shaoghal 7 dúraigheadar leis go gcaithfeadh sé fhéineach a bhearradh agus a ghlanadh mar ná tabharfaidís roimhe (rye) an Pápa é. Diúltaigh é seo nuair a thugadh an t-órdú dhó é fhéineach a bhearra 7 dúirt sé ná bheárrfadh sé

ar an bhfeirmeóir/-iúi- seo. Ar do bhás arsa sé a Bháitéir ná innis cad athá sa mála agut arsa sé leis an bhfeirmeóir ní inneosa/-iú- mé arsaigh Bháitéir bhí na madrai a liúirigh 7 bhí an (fear a' góilt thar na) feirmeóir dul thar na madrai (cois) cois a bhóthair cuir abheir, abheir bháitéar ar an mála 7 chaith sé amach chun na madraí an mála. Stracadar an mála 'nach labhair a' cat. Ise ba chuimhin leatsa a bháitéir arsaigh a cat. Sin é mo scéalsa athá agumsa thímpall ar a gcat san.

ar fad go rabhadar go léir tóigthe aige, 'air a labhair an cat 7 dúirt an cat leis peire bróg a thabhairt chuige fhéineach. Dúirt a fear ná fuigheadh sé an tuise thógaint gan é thabhairt go dtín mbaile mór leis an cat an chéad lá eile arsaigh an fear a bheidh mé agdul dtín mbaile mór thabharfa me leat me (aige) dtín mbaile mór 7 gheobha mé bróga dhuit. Tá go maith arsaigh a' cat dh'imthigh an feirmeóir/-iúi- leis annsan 7 bhí eagla a chroí air. Dh'imthigh sé dtí duine uasal go raibh paca ghadhair fhiaig aige 7 'nis sé a scéal dó cad dubhairt an cat. Dubhairt a duine uasal leis go mbeadh sé fhéineach is a chuid marcaigh amach a leithéid sin do lá 7 má bheadh se a dul dtín mbaile mór leis a cat cun na mbróga a thabhairt leis 7 an cat bheith istig in mála aige. Thug ? feirmeóir an mhaidean so ag imtheacht 7 an cat istigh in mála aige 7 a chapall 7 a thrucail 7 bhí an duine uasal so agus a mhadrai 7 a chuid marcaigh a fuireadh leis. Nuair a dh'airig a' cat na madrai a (liúrigh) lúirigh dh'fhiafra sé dhon bhfeirmeóir cad a bhí annsan. Dúirt sé gor paca gadhair fhiaig a bhí ann. Ar do bhás (báitéir a bhí mar ainm

Scéal an chait 7 Bháitéir(múr) Bhí feirmeóir ann fadó 7 bhí sé a dul dtín margadh ar maidin. Bhí sé tógaint tuise a pháistí chun bróga nua thabhart leis chúcha 7 sé sean shlí a bhí acu an uair sin chun tuise thógaint nach blúire chipín a dh'fháilt 7 faid coise pé páiste dfháilt sa chipín 7 é thabhairt dtín mbaile mór botha chun na bróga a thabhairt leotha abhaile. Bhí sé ag tógaint/bhí sé á dtógaint/bhí a thógaint tuise na páistí

beag i gcónaí, gur dhein sí feineach chún beag is gur ionntuigh Naomh Pádraig béal na dabhche anuas uirre ar a sliabh 7 'air a bhí sí istigh fén dabhach annsan labhair sí arís. "Dén, dén luan a thabharfa tú bia chúgham?" arsaigh sí le Naomh Pádraig. Ní thabharfa mise ao bhia chúghat arsaigh Naomh Pádraig go dtí an (t'réis) Luan ? lae 'n bráth. Seo Luan ná tiocfaidh go brách 7 chrom sí a déana ? ná talmhan ins a sliabh síos gur theangaigh sí leis an uisce 7 d'éirigh an tuisce 7 bhí an t-uisce a leathnú is a leathnú leis gur chua sé gur dh'ionnta sé isteach in linn mór annso 7 shidé an linn a glaonn siad béal locha air, más fíor mo scéalta theimpeall air ar siné an cúnntas atá agumsa air.

7 thug sé aghaidh/agha' ar a gcosán a thug Naomh Pádraig air síos 'déana ar a mbaile a nglaonn siad an Cloichín air 7 tháinigh sé suas le Naomh Pádraig 7 'nis sé a scéal do Naomh Pádraig mar gheall ar an ollaphiast a bhí thuas ar an gcnoc so. Dubhairt Naomh Pádraig leis dul isteach go dtí tigh a bhí ann, ti feirmúra 7 tamall tamall de den dabhach a dh'iarra orra má bhí sé díomhaoin acu bhuail sé isteach 7 dh'iarr sé dabhach 'tigh an fheirmúra so má bhí sé díomhaoin acu. Fuair sé an dabhach uatha 7 thug sé amach go dtí Naomh Pádraig é. D'imthigh sé fhéineach agus Naomh Pádraig suas go dtín sliabh arís thar nais bhí an ollaphiast thuas rúmpa 7 ba dhé an scannra an mhéad a bhí innte. D'iarr sí biadh ar Naomh Pádraig. Dubhairt Naomh Pádraig léithe ná fuigheadh sé ao bhia a thabhairt di indiu go mbeadh sé a brise na saoire, gur domhnach é 7 dúirt sé léithe go gcaithfeadh sí fuireach dtí luan gan biadh 7 "caithfe tú dul isteach fén dabhach so," arsaigh Naomh Pádraig "go dtí Luan." Dh'éirigh sí, dh'éirigh sí, féineach thímpall annsan le comhachta Naomh Pádraig. Chaith sí féin thímpall 7 bhí sí á déana féineach beag

Nuair a tháinigh Naomh Pádraig dtí Éire, bhí sé a siúbhal treasna an chnuic seo Domhnach – Cnoc mhaol Domhan, Theangaigh aodhaire sa chnoc leis agus (é síos) é ag suidhe ar chloch agus scian 'na láimh aige agus é baint croiceann/croicinn de ?chlub de? bhata ban labhair Naomh Pádraig leis agus labhair sé sin le Naomh Pádraig, "É! a dtéigheann tú, a dtéigheann tú go dtí aon aifreann?" arsaigh Naomh Pádraig. Is amhla a thug an fear so drochmhúine/-mhúna do Naomh Pádraig nuair a trácht sé ar (a) aifreann agus níorbh ao mhaith dho Naomh Pádraig bheith ag cainnt leis in ao chor. Dh'imthigh Naomh Pádraig leis ón bhfear agus dh'fhain an fear a baint a chroiceann/chroicinn den mbata mar a bhí sé. Ní raibh sé ibhfad nuair a chrom na croicinn a corruí & bhíodar a' bailiú isteach idteannta a chéile na croicinn an bhata go léir gur dhein ollaphiast des na croicinn agus bhí an ollaphiast a méadú agus a méadú agus an fear so a féachaint air, crédim. nuair a bhí sí a méadú roinnt bhuail a fear an ollaphiast leis an mbata agus shiné an tslí is mó a mhéada sí. agus d'iarr sí bia ar a bhfear so nó go n-íosadh sí é fhéineach. Tháinig scannradh agus eagla air.

Chualaidh'n dearthair saidhbhir na focla seo a dubhairt a pedlar. Cuireadh scéal ar bhomaite fa choinne an t-sagart agus fa choinne ceathrar fear a bhéadh ar a tsocrú. Scríobh siad síos a margadh; fagadh lód monadh ins a roilic an oiche sin agus thug a dearthair saidhbhir a claidheamh a bhí aige fhéin dó. bhí sé 'níar (aniar) agus síar agus anuas agus suas fan uaigh go dtí gur ghlan a lá lá'r na bhárach. Bhí a teinidh caithte annsin agus thenaic se na bháile ionnsair a dearthair bhocht agus d'innis se dó gur shocruigh seisean a chailleach agus nach bhfeicfidhe ag bráth arais í.
"Ach leoga" ar seisean "Fuair me duais maith de a thairbhe. Tá leath a bhfuil amuigh agus istigh de'n tsaoghal ag an fear seo thuas le fághail ugum agus leath a chuid airgid agus más mían leatsa e" ar seisean leis a dearthair bhocht "Posfaidh me do nighean" ar seisean "Nuair a thiocfas sí 'un aois agus caithfimid ar saoghal i gcuideachta a chéile" "Maith go leor" arsa'n dearthair bocht "Bhí'n t-ádh ort nuair a thenaic tú" ar seisean "Agus tá mé dúl go mbéidh an t-ádh ort anois" 'Sé'n deireadh atá ar an scéal gurb é'n dearthair bocht a dearthair saidhbhir agus a dearthair saidhbhir a dearthair bocht agus sin mar bhí siad nuair a d'fhag mise iad.

ar bith ariamh o shoin na reilice sin bhí leath fhein cómh mór leis. Thenaic a sagart a heat sin agus choisrig se'n uaigh agus chaith se na trí arachair (urchar) deirdheannach na sluaiste uirthi
"Ma eirigheann sí 'rais" ar seisean "Ní órcachaidh (amharcfaidh) mise go bráth fa dtaobh duithe níos mó" "Smaith a guidheas tú sin" arsa'n pedlar. Nuair a bhí deireadh dul a scabadh, fuaidh a dearthair saidhbhir suas i mullach claidhe agus scairt se amach le guth áed acfhuinneach Fear a bith a ghlacfadh as laimh a chailleach a choimhead agus gan ligint duith eirigh níos mó go dtabharfadh se leath a rabh 'muigh agus istuigh de'n tsaoghal aige dó eadar toighthe agus maoin agus duine ar bith" ar seisean " a bhfuil ag dul a glacann as láimh labharfadh se 'mach anois" Níor labhar duine ar bith. Bhí deireadh dul a scabadh cuid acu dul síar agus cuid acu dul soir achan áit a raibh báile acu "Goide siud a dubharse (dúirt sé) arsa'n pedlar? H-innseadh dó goide'n duais a bhí le fághail go rabh leath a rabh 'muigh agus istigh de thalamh agus de thoighthe agus de airgead le fághail ag ce bith ghlacadh as láimh e. "Níl eagla ar bith ormsa" arsa'n pedlar "Ma fhagham-sa lód mónadh sa roilig ugum agus claidheamh maith a thabhairt damh, go n-eirigheann sí am (i mo) aineoin"

nach bhfeicfead duine nó Día go brath arais eisean a teacht ina leitheid de shiubhal.
D'eirigh'n gárda thart a méudu (ag méadú) go dtí go bhfuair siad greim ar a stuil; thug leófa arais í go dtí an áit a rabh sí ceangailte; bhain anuas a chailleach; thug leófa í agus choirigh suas airist í fa choinne faire úr-nuadh a chur uirthi. Thenaic a pedlar trathnóna agus hinnseadh dó goide bhí dul, Ó bhí ionganthas (iontas?) a tsaoghail air goide bhí cearr "Líon cupla gloine uisce beatha damh (dom)" arsa seisean leis a dearthair bhocht " go bhfaghamuid greim ithe" ar seisean "agus a dul na faire" Líon agus rinne a bhean pasaid bréugh muicfheola réidh dobha uilig an tsaoghal. Bhí na páisdi bochta ag eirigh in áirde agus ag ceóil le neart luathair fa'n tráth maith a bhí siad ag dul a fhághail (fháil). Nuair a bhí a sáith ithte, ólta uilig acu "Silim" arsa'n pedlar "Go rachamuid na faire tumallt" Fuaidh siad na faire agus bhí íontas a tsaoghal ar a pedlar goide thiocfadh bheith cearr "Tá" arsa bean a toighe "Níor caitheadh go leor a cheudamhair (an chéad uair?) leihi agus a caithfidhe ní bhéad sí ar a cois ar a doigh" Thoisigh streinseiri ag cruinniu 'noir (anoir) agus ag cruinniu as achan uile bealach ionnsair an fhaire agus ionnsair a torramh ach le scéal fada a dhéanamh gairid ní dheachaidh tórramh

an chailleach ó oiche.
"Ó mar siud is mar seo "arsa'n dearthair saidhbhir ag ligint buarfhach caointe as fhéin agus a tarraingt na gruaige as a choinn "Bhithear a cheilt seo fada go leor acht níl gair ann feasta"Chuir se na bullsai (?) amach fríd na ceithre árda fa'n rud a bhí dul agus fa cómh minic is d'eirigh'n cailleach agus cuireadh teachtaire fa choinne an tsagart go dtí go socrochad seisean í. Bhí'n tír mhór uilig go léir cruinn thart fa'n pháirc. Thenaic a sagart sa deireadh agus é marcuigheacht ar chapall mhaith dhubh, hata mór fada glaneeáilte air. Bhí'n dearthair saidhbhir roimhe agus dubhairt leis ma bhí se ábalta dadaidh a dhéanamh i ndoigh a bith a chailleach a shocrighadh sa chruth nach n-eireochad sí níos mó. 'Steach leis a tsagart agus isteach i mbun na páirce marcuigheacht ar a chapall; tharraing suas go bárr na páirce áit a rabh'n stuil agus a chailleach. Nuair a thenaic a stuil capaill a sagart a teacht thoisigh'n screadach agus thoisigh'n rása agus na mudain (?) (buadáin?) a bhí ar a chailligh ag teacht ar an stuil ins na taobhannai. 'Náit (in áit) beannuigheacht a dhéanamh ar shiubhal leis a tsagart agus ar shiubhal leis a stuil in a dhiaidh ach go díreach le cruaintearacht a fuair se amach as a bealach e féin agus a chapall nuair a fuarthas a stuil a cheapadh. Thonntuigh'n sagart arais nuair a fuaidh se giota beag soir a bothar agus 'sé dubhairt se leis a chruinniú

arsan garsún. Do bhog an sagart d’á chluais. Do dhruid an garsún uaidh amach. D’fhéuch sé isteach idir an dá shiúl air - “Tá’s ag fiadh, mhaise,” ar seisean. “Dá mbeadh lán páirce acu ann ná n-inneósfainn aoinne amháin acu anois duit”, ar seisean.

“Nioclás Mór Mac Ghearailt”Roinnt blianta ó shoin do bhí fear darb ainm Clás Mór Mac Ghearailt ina chomhnuidhe i dTír Uí Bháin i gCorca Dhuibhne shiar. Do bhí Clás scoth aosta go maith agus do bhí a mheabhair agus a éifeaít ag léigheadh agus ag scaipeadh ar nós mórán sean daoine eile nach é. Nuair a bhraith a mhuinntir ag dul chun deiridh é, chiureadar fios ar an sagart go gcuireadh sé an ola dhéidheanach air, agus go n-ollmhuigheadh sé i gcóir na síoruidheachta é. Nuair a tháinig an sagart chuir an duine aosta fáilte roimis, ach, ní raill aon chuimhneamh aige

eile aige agus glas ar a daras. Fuaidh a pedlar fhad leis a daras agus d'fiach a chuid eochracha go bhfuair se cionn a d'fhoir dó. D'ascal a daras agus fuaidh isteach; chuir se'n chailleach suas a mharcuigheacht ar a stail. Cheanghal se thall agus i bhfos í ins a doigh nach rabh sí ábalta tuitim. Tugaidh leis amach a stail agus a chailleach a marcuigheacht uirthi soir go dtí páirc mhór bhí taobh thiar do'n teach os cionn a bhothair. Scaoil se 'steach sa pháirc í agus ní rabh'n stail sin amuigh am ar bith nach mbíodhí duine a siubhal leis. Nuair a fuair sí 'mach leis an aoibhneas a bhí uirthi fa choinne dul a reathaidh, ar shiubhal leithe méid a bhí ina crámha thart a páirc. Bhí fás de crainn mhór árd thart fa'n páirc uilig a tsaoghal nach rabh bealach aici teacht amach. Níl a léim a gcaitheadh sí nach mbuaileadh sálai na caillighe isteach sa dubhain í go dtí go rabh sí cómh sáruighthe agus nach bhfuil ann ach go rabh sí ábalta bogadh. Fuaidh'n pedlar a luighe nuair a chuir se isteach na páirce í ach ar maidin lá'r na bhárach nuair a d'eirigh'n groomach go ngléusfhad se suas a bheath, d'ascal se'n daras agus bhí'n beath ar shiubhal. D'imthigh se 'un (chun) toighe agus é ag bualadh a dhá bhas (bhos) ar a chéile.
"Ó tá rud mór cearr" ar seisean "fa na toighthe seo, tá mo stail ar shiubhal anois agus níl fhios ugum ca deacha se" Thoisigh cuartughadh agus fuair siad a stail istuigh sa pháirc mhóir a bhí taobh thiar de'n teach agus í choir a bheith marbh ag

Fuaidhi (Chuaigh an) pedlar suas agus ní rabh duine a bith fá'n teach leath cómh h-usaideach leis tabhairt amach uisce agus cur síos teineadh, ag gearradh tobaca agus a rann píopai. Nuair a thenaic teacht a lae cuireadh pasaid céadhna an bhainin fa dtaobh duith arais eadar plainceaid agus cotai agus bhí truaigh ar a pedlar ag coimhead air ag dul faoin talamh. Shiubhal leófa na reilice agus a pedlar leáfa; d'ascal an uaigh agus chuidigh a coiriu. Rinn siad amach nach dtabharfad siad scéal ar bith do'n tsagairt a heat seo go m'bféidir go rabh deireadh thart agus shiubhal leofa uilig na bháile.
Nuair a thenaic a pedlar agus a dearthair bocht na bháile thoisigh an bheirt ag ól agus rinn a bhean suipear bréagh réidh, dornan de bhunagaí brúughtha mine choirce déanta aici agus pasaid bréugh muicfheola. Bhí na páisdi bochta ag eirigh 'náirde agus ag caperal agus ag déanmah grinn frid a teach agus iad uilig cróchta thall agus i bhfos (abhus) as a pedlar bhí'n oiread sin gion agus áird acu air. Bhí go maith agus ní rabh go h-olc nuair a fuaidh se cómhgarach ag an meadhon oiche, d'iarr a pedlar orthu dhul i luighe go raibh aigesan órc (amharc) fríd a chuid leabharthai. Nuair a mheas se go rabh siad 'na gcodhladh, tugaidh leis a mála arais agus a tseanspaid agus amach ar a daras leis. Níor stad se go rabh se sa reilig agus thóg sé aníos a chailleach; bhain duithe an bainin agus chuir an chailleach isteach sa mhála; chaith ar a druim í agus shiubhal leis. Níor stad se go rabh se ag teach a dearthair saidhbhir arais. Bhí stail choinneall i dteach

[Cionnus a fuair béal locha a ainm]Fiteán 2.
Nuair a tháinig Naomh Pádraig dtí Éire, bhí sé a siúbhal treasna an chnuic seo Domhnach – Cnoc mhaol Domhan, Theangaigh aodhaire sa chnoc leis 7 (é síos) é ag suidhe ar chloch 7 scian 'na láimh aige 7 é baint croiceann/croicinn de ?chlub de? bhata ban labhair Naomh Pádraig leis 7 labhair sé sin le Naomh Pádraig, "É! a dtéigheann tú, a dtéigheann tú go dtí aon aifreann?" arsaigh Naomh Pádraig. Is amhla a thug an fear so drochmhúine/-mhúna do Naomh Pádraig nuair a trácht sé ar (a) aifreann 7 níorbh ao mhaith dho Naomh Pádraig bheith ag cainnt leis in ao chor. Dh'imthigh Naomh Pádraig leis ón bhfear 7 dh'fhain an fear a baint a chroiceann/chroicinn den mbata mar a bhí sé. Ní raibh sé ibhfad nuair a chrom na croicinn a corruí & bhíodar a' bailiú isteach idteannta a chéile na croicinn an bhata go léir gur dhein ollaphiast des na croicinn 7 bhí an ollaphiast a méadú 7 a méadú 7 an fear so a féachaint air, crédim. nuair a bhí sí a méadú roinnt bhuail a fear an ollaphiast leis an mbata 7 shiné an tslí is mó a mhéada sí. 7 d'iarr sí bia ar a bhfear so nó go n-íosadh sí é fhéineach. Tháinig scannradh 7 eagla air.

Fiteán 1[In a thosach so thá ceol – 'na lár tá na focail seo (cuid díobh a chuaidh díom a thuiscint).]
"Anna Máthair Muire, Muire máthair Chríost Brighid (?) 7 máthair Eoin Baiste. Cuirimíd na triúrar ban aosta so idir sinn as galar na leabthan: an crann 'n (?) chéasadh Críost air, cuirimíd idir sinn é agus an tromluí 7 gach galar eile athá ar ár dtí." ['Na dheire tá cuide de Spailpín a Rúin bhí an chuid is mó dhe do-thuigthe dhomh-sa]. "Dhe a spailpín a rúin, dé bheatha-sa chúghainn Nó cár bhainis an fhoghmhar chún luach so, dhé dá mbeitheá-sa aréir mar a chodaluigheas-sa féin ó ba ghiorra ? Dher’ a chailín bhuidhe chrón ba póigín? mhilis liom do phóig dhe is ní ghlacfainn céad bó mar spré leat ba ? mhilis liom do phóig óm chailín beag óg ? ? ? " [Níl an fhuaim soiléir in áiteanna domh-sa]

Proinnseas Dubh ar a ghaduidheacht. Bhí sé ina ghaduidhe mhaith ó shin amach.
… An lacha agus an fhaoilleóg Bhí geall uair amháin eadar an lacha agus an fhaoilleóg, ceocú aca is luaithe a’ tcífeadh an lá. Lá thar na bhárach, nuair a mhiscail an lacha, (connaic sí an lá roimhe an fhaoilleóg), dubhairt sí, “bhác, bhác, bhác, bhác.” “hÓ,” arsa an fhaoilleóg, “siúd é’n lá, tá mise mall”.…. Nuair a bhí mise ag éirighe aníos i mo ghasúir, bhí Ant de mo mhathair ina comhnaidhe ins a teach ab fhuide siar i gCruachlann. Anna Mhailigh a bheiread siad uirthi.

ar a bhata, a bhí leis, agus dubhairt sé gur mhaith an té a bhainfeadh an t-airgead uath-san.
D’imthigh an t-athair, agus cheas luathas agus d’imthigh sé, d’éirigh an mac ins an leabaidh chuir sé air a chuid éadaigh, agus d’imthigh sé agus ghearr sé an aithghiorra romhis. Bhí sé ar a droichead roimhe an athair, agus ag dul chun siubhail dó, tharraing sé bun-cáil ins sa ghárraidh, agus “pheeláil” sé é. Nuair a casadh an t-athair air, chocáil sé an bun-cáil leis, agus d’iarr sé air an t-airgead a chuir amach. Rinn an t-athair sin go h-umhal sásta. Ní raibh gar dó a athrúghadh. D’imthigh an mac, agus bhain sé an baile amach comh h-achmair agus thiocfadh leis arais, agus bhí sé ina luighe ag teacht dón athair. Tháinic an t-athair, agus é bor-chaoineadh. Dubhairt sé go raibh sé as teach, agus as áit, go gcaithfeadh sé airgead an bhaile a dhéanamh suas araist, le tabhairt don tighearna. “Ba mhór d’fhocal ag imtheacht duit,” arsa an mac, ag éirghe amach as a leabaidh, agus ag dul síos, agus a breith ar an bun-cáil, agus ar a mhála a rabh an t-airgead ann. “Bhí focal mór aghat ag imtheacht duit,” arsa seisean, “agus athair sin an rud a rubáil thú. Seo dhuit dó mhála anois agus gabh ar aghaidhe, agus ní thiocfaidh aon dhuine romhat níos mó.” D’imthigh an t-athair, agus sin a tús a chuir

Well of St Seadna
Well of St Seadna Situated at eastern side of Clonbur Cemetery. A Protestant church stands in centre of graveyard, and the ruins of an old church, probably Catholic Stand about 10 yards to the south west of Prot, church. Overhanging well is an old whitethorn bush. St Seadna Sednas Well Annual Pattern July 20th. Cure of ailments - old people say in the water there is certain cure for eye trouble. Special rounds. Three times round the graveyard path plainly marked out, remaining at well for some time at end of each round. The Rosary to be said once in each round and 5 Our Fathers, 5 Hail Marys and 5 Glory be to the Father at well on completion of each round. Eye trouble Applied to affected part

And he took off his overcoat and laid it up on the riel of hay and the lad was in the hay so he got up out of it and took out his penknife and 'twas a big freize top coat and he turned up the collar and he eat a round bit out of it. So 'twas true for him lo heard the murder and they brought out the old man and banied him. So he started off for home next morning and didn't say a word to anyone about what happened. He didn't reach home until late in the ight and he opened the door and went in and he had his cake and when he got the mead in the other place he didn't eat a bit of it se he lit the light and went down to the door where thought his wife would be and the child was so big he thought it was another husband she was after moneying and he ran up to the dresser and got his razor to eat this ctioats

Nuair a tháinig sé ar ais ar dhéireadh na seachtaine, d’inis sé don t-sean-bhean go cinnte, gob í bó a bhí ann. Agus an fhéoil a bhí sailtigh aici, a chathadh leis an abhainn, a chuir amach, agus é dhul fhad a chruc, agus iarraidh ortha a bó fhéin a chuir amach chuicí. Go raibh leanbh beag aici, agus ní raibh an déor bhainne aici le tabhairt dó, agus iad a bó a chuir chuici.
Tráthnóna go mall, tháinig a bhó ina dhorais ag géimnighe, mar bhíodh cleachtuigh aici sul mar imthigh sí cor a’ bith uaithe. D’aithin sí ansin gob í bó fhéin a bhí ann, agus luigh an bhó aici, níl fhios agam-sa caidé d’éirigh di sa deireadh.

Bhí bean annseo, ar a bhaile seo, agus ní raibh aici ach bó amháin. Chaill sí’n bhó, chuaidh sí i bpoll uirthi, agus bháidhteadh í. Bhí táilliúr annseo ar a bhaile, agus bhíodh sé ag ’ul ó áit go háit, a fuaghall. Bhí sé trop amháin ag ’ul isteach ó seo go Málainn Bhig, isteach a cruc, agus casadh air bó, agus dar leis go raibh sí an-chosamhail, leis a’ bhó a chaill a’ tsean-bhean.
Nuair a tháinic sé abhaile i gcionn na seachtmhaine, bhí sé ag innse fá dtaobh de. hIarradh air a bheith le fuarachas, nuair a bhéadh sé ag ’ul ar ais a fhéacháilt a bhfeicfeadh sé araist í. Ag dul araist ar maidin Dia Luain dó, casadh an bhó chéadna air, agus chinnti sé dó féin gob í bó an t-sean-bhean a bhí ann.

Bhí fear thiar i nDún Caoin a'r bhí gadhar aige gurbh' ainm do Friday. Lá dár chuaidh sé 'on Daingean do thuig sé an gadhar leis. Lá Aoine a beadh é.
Do chuaidh sé isteach i siopa buistéara is do bheannaigh sé d'fhear a tsiopa is do beannaig fhear a tsiopa do is d'fháiltigh roimis Bhíodar ag aighneas is a' cur i' a' cúiteamh leo ach san aighneas dóibh dubhairt fear a tsiopa "Is maith a dhiosfadh do mhadra pláta feola anois." "Ní dhíosfadh mhair" arsa fear Dhún Chaoin 'ní blaisfeadh sé De hAoine í." "D'iosfadh mhair arsa fear a' Daingin" Imbriathar ná hiosfadh arsan fear eile Bé críoch a' sgéil n' Thomáis Uí Laoghaire gur bhuail fear a' tsiopa cúig

Here am I the Captain of the play
[?] the fool I'll [?] the way Captain's Rhyme Here am I the Captain told who head no rebel throng hith a chosen band heroes to Newbawn

Note. This very common nursery rime can be much heard from mothers of infants in this disctrict 'The mother catches a hold of the child 'big toe' while saying line 1 the next toe line 2 and so on to no. 5 the small toe

1 This pigeen went to the market
2 This pigeen stopped at home 3 This pigeen got bread an' butter 4 This pigeen got none 5 This pigeen said week week WEEK I'll tell me(y) granny when she comes home

'Have the child in your knees an' he saying it to them thats all' my mother.
Note. The mother with the child on her knees moves her feet (up and down) to keep time to this little cerse according to its 'jumpy' rythm. It was without doubt the desired effect of making the child bright and cheerful and stopping it from crying.

substance in any way as regards making additions to them, but as it is a long time since she learned them being told there may be slight omissions

whiskey and he got her arrested. She was sent to jail then until the court day. When the sentence to death was passed on her all that time she never thought of saying 'fly away cap'. The day she was going to be hung in a (?) they used to have a scaffold at that time. When she was standing on the (?) ready for the hangman to put the rope over her neck when she said 'fly away cap' herself an' the (?) rose up in the air an down to Balliunacurra an' the (?) is suppose to be there yet.
Note. The foregoing stories 1283 are taken verbation from my mother, who heard them from her mother, who was almost an illiterate, but a fine storyteller. She has not (?)

same as the cailleacs done an' said fly away caps an' she flew up the chimney. She never (?) o' flying until she flew up to Dublin and down in a cellar where there was barrels of whiskey. By the time she got there the three cailleacs had their 'nough drank and their pockets loaded with bottles of whiskey. An' they said 'fly away cap' an' was off again. With the excitement she did not know what to do. She forgot about the words. She was knocking and rattling so the man heard her and came in to see what was wrong. He said he had the thief caught at last that he was robbed with years and did not know what was happening to his

a bolt. When they were ready then they got a cap each what they used called long 'go a night cap. They put them on. The first one went an' dipped her finger in the soot and put a spot on her forehead. The three of them did the same after one another and they said 'fly away night cap' an' blew out the chimney. The girl was then worse than ecer she was an' she went back to the door to take out the wish. It was right fast and she could not stir it. She didn't know in the world what to do she was up an' down the house roarin' cryin'. At last she went to the foot of the bed where she seen them gettin' the caps and she happened to find on. She dipped her finger in the soot

She didn't know in the world what to do with it she couldn't drink it it was so ugly. An' when she got their back turned there was young ducks knocking round the house. They had a holeen in the floor for drinking out of an she threw the mug of brocan(?) into the holeen for the ducks. When they heard the duckeens slobbering with it they knew what she had done with it so they made herclean up every sup of it again and drink it. She was in an awful way and she'd rather be astray than be there. When she was a while there then they started preparing the (?). They went an' put a wish in the door for

off and she went for the light. She knocked at the door an' went in. There was three big cailleacs there and them sitting at the fire and big long teeth in them as long as the spoon. They asked her what she wanted. She asked them to leave her in for the night. They asked who she was and what brought her out that hour of the night and she said she went astray in the bogs. They told her to come up and sit down and stay for the night. She was shivering afraid of them from once she saw the first sight of them. When they was talking a while (?) one of them got a mug and gave her a full of it of cold brocan(?) that was left over since the day before.

thought was the death:—
“Tabhair é féin leat tabhair é féin leat” The neighbours then knew well that she hadn't half do pity for her husband that she pretended.Sceal 3 Fly away caps There was a little girl once and she lived away in the bogs. (?) she was sent to the shop for tobacco for her father or mother I don't know which. An she had a long way to go an it was getting late and there was a mist of rain in it. The night came on quick an she lost her way an' she was up and down through the bogs for hours and she couldn't get her way home. At last she seen a light a long way

given away by Judas who greeted him with a kiss.
I remember to see a sister of mine (?) by a neighbour Mrs. Davitt from using her index finger to find out if a child had got a new tooth. So she (?) to use her second finger.

Oíche Samina (Shamnha)Captain White down here used gather 'um' all down to his house on that night and he'd have the fun of the world at um.
He need put a shilling down in the bottom of a tub of water and they'd be diving for it trying to lift it with their mouths. And he used have an apple hanging down to see who'd bite it. Buying a horse "I was buying a horse one time in Dumanway and the man wanted eleven pounds for the horse and I offered him ten pounds and then I offered to split the pound and he woudn't. I went away and I came back again and I offered him ten again and he wanted eleven. Someone said to split it and he wouldn't. "I'll toss for the pound," says I, "let it be ten or eleven". He didn't understand it first but we explained it to him and a crowd gathered when they heard we were going to toss. He got a penny and he tossed it and I called head and it struck a tall man and came on the ground, head. I thought he's "bar" it for striking the person and begorr he didn't and I got the horse for ten pounds.

I love my father and I love my mother,
I love my sister likewise my brother. I love my friends and relations too. Id forsake them all and go with you.I travelled Munster and Leinster Round, Dublin City and sea port towns, In all my Ranging neev[?] could I see, The curling looks of you grád mo ċroiḋe[?]. The colour of amber was my loves hair, Skin far whites than the lilies fair. The honey drops of the morning dew. I sent[?] half as sweet as a kiss from you. Come all fair maidens who hear my song never believe in a false young man. Now all fair maidens who would pity me See how my heart is breaking for you gnád mo ċroiḋe[?].

The Position of the Irish Language.My informant says that when he was going to school the teacher would give seven slaps to any child he heard speak one word of Irish. Although my informant is a man of ninety years he has scarcely any Irish. As a matter of fact there are only a few elderly folk in the place who know any Irish.
[From John Lydon (90), of Omey, Claddaghduff, Connemara]

572
agus dubhairt sé sin an san. greada chút mar ainise, arú is fada mise i d’ úmpar. Éulód bhuait ar maidin agus fágfad tú insa tsúsa," raghai’ mé ’nún go Sasanna agus túbharfad ór i dtrúnc liom." "Is bei’ mé ’g ól sa racaireacht lé cailín deas óm dhúthaig [ deire fiteán 54. (1). n c á a s a da a a d n á

recent years, two stone flags, on each f which was engraved a cross. Both flags were later removed for safety to the refuge of the island chapel, where the larger flag still remains, but the small flag has not been seen for the past couple of years, when the chapel was being renovated -- the probability being that it was inadvertently placed in the building. In some instances Clochán Leo has been and is being referred to as Leabaidh Leo, which misnomer has emanated from the fact that until very recently, it was the universal custom of pilgrims to Saint Leo's Well to remain overnight in Clochán Leo. The misnomer "Leabaidh Leo" arose from the fact that, Clochán Leo, served as a "bed" for pilgrims for that night only.

amd seems to have been artificially constructed: this is supposed to be the impression of Saint Leo's foot. This impression in the solid rock is, according to the inhabitants of this island, the greatest proof of the saint's having been in this island. That this heel-shaped impression was constructed by the and of man, is instantly disbelieved and the suggestion abandoned as sheer nonsense by the islanders: their belief being that as a living memorial to the saintliness of Leo this impression of his foot was allowed to be created in solid rock. At the western extremity of the mound and immediately inside the interior of the mound-wall, stands Clochán Leo. This clochán is rectangular in shape as seen from the interior although it gives the impression of being of circular construction when viewed from without. The walls remain intact to a height of hour feet, with an entrance two feet wide in the south-east corner. The internal dimensions of this clochán are eight feet wide by nine feet long: its walls being three feet thick. Within the walls of this clochán, were found, in

(2). Clochán Leo. There is a conspicuously noticeable affinity between the construction of the "Clochán Leo" and that on "Cnocán Fhuaighe an Choinnleora" with the exception that the wall of the mound on this, Clochán Leo, is oval in shape. This wall is built on the summit of an elevation about thirty feet above sea-level. A small section of the wall of this mound still remains intact, and measure seven feet in breadth: and the base of the entire wall can be easily discerned. Measuring from East to west the length of this mound is fourteen yards, and eleven yards from north to south. (All these measurements are exclusive of the breadth of the mound-wall itself).At a point northeast, in the mound-wall, is a hiatus which apparently served as an entrance. In a few instances in the centre of this "oval" are to be seen the almost grass-grown edges of stove-flags placed in straight-line formation from north to south. The north-west portion of this elevation consists of solid hard rock. Midway between the base of the mound and the wall of the mound is an oval-shaped hollow, measuring three inches in length

either end of the extremities of the base of the semi-circular mound to the tip of the fore-shore. Between the "apparent" entrance in the base and a point directly opposite can be seen the mere tips of upright flags running in a direct line, from north to south, but not exactly running the entire breadth of the semi-circle. There is not the slightest scintilla of information regarding this mound or clochán to be had from the inhabitants of the island of Inishark. (It was on the outskirts of this mound that cake-dances which were so common in the island during the years in which "poirín" was being manufactured, were held. I may here repeat that those cake-dances were held, not on Sundays but on week-days, and he or she who failed to sacrifice his or her work on that day, and participate in the cake-dance, held himself or herself up to the opprobrium and contempt of his or her neighbours.).

Inis Bó Finne(1). Cnocán fhuaighe an choinnleora. The summit of this hillock is about thirty feet above sea-level. The hillock itself is within ten yards of the shore, and derives its name from a cove named "fuaigh a' coinnleora" (i.e. the cove which resembles a candlestick). On the summit of this hillock are the remains of a semi-circular wall with the apparent remains of a clochán, or bee-hive cell at the conjunction of the base and the semi-circle on the west side. Measuring from north to south the greatest width of this semi-circle is fourteen yards and the length of its base twenty yards. The wall of this mound is two feet in breadth. In the centre of the base are two conspicuous upright flags which give the impression of having served as an entrance.
The clochán itself which is purely circular measures nine feet in diameter, and as well can be ascertained, the breadth of its wall, three feet. To the immediate north of the clochán can be seen two upright flags two feet apart, which also resemble an entrance. Two walls, fifteen yards long and three feet wide run, one from

Diet: Throughout the Summer, butter, eggs, and milk are here in abundance -- every household having its own sufficiency of each. During the winter, though homemade butter be scarce, creamery butter is not purchased. There is one butcher, who sometimes manages to dispose of two sheep each week; so that meat is extensively eaten.

as intermarriage between the people of both places was usual.]

Surnames: Of the seventeen families in the island ther are eleven bearing the surname "O'Toole." The others comprise, Malleys, Heanues, Fahertys and Prendergasts. The O'Tooles are supposed to have came here from Wicklow and the Prendergasts from Mayo. [It is quite probably that the Heanues came here originally from Renvyle

Patronymics: Almost all of the population are better known patronymically than otherwise. This is due to the fewness of surnames with so large a population.

Another beneath the knees so that the man in the centre may not be able to detect or find out its whereabouts, which is his only job. "Bróg" is the name given to the rope. The longer he remains without finding out who it is has the bróg at a certain moment, the greater the furnishment he has to endure, and it is part of the game to slash him severely with it whenever the holder of the bróg gets his back turned towards him. Whem, he succeeds in laying hands on him who has the rope, positions are exchanged, and the job of finding the bróg then devolves on the latter.

Native Customs: The only peculiar custom indigenous to the natives of the island is that of shaking hands with each other every time one neighbour visits the other. For instance, I have seen the occupants of certain houses shake hands and welcome people ho live within a hundred yards of each other: and on a few occasions I have seen them being given a handshake when leaving. Strangers, however are not welcomed in this way until they is known, save, in the case of one whose people are already known by the natives. They are very hospitable towards strangers, and one is seldom allowed to leave a house without a meal. Dances are held on Sunday nights throughout the winter, but in the summer, they retire to bed at a timely hour. There are few forms of passtime. Money-pitching is carried on sometimes on the strand at the pierhead. Claye cora (?) is also played: and a game known as "bróg" which is played in the following way: -- a crowd of young men sit on the ground in such a way that their feet rest on the ground and their knees raised. One man stands in the center of the "human" ring. A rope made from horse-hair is then passed from one to

Language: English is the only tongue spoken here. There are only five or six elderly people capable of conducting a conversation through Irish. I have even met a man of 90 years who was unable to continue a conversation in Irish: he admitted his inability to do so, although he understands the language very well. My informant says the elderly people of his childhood days spoke nothing but Irish, but that his own generation took no interest in it. The people here speak in a most remarkably drawn-out slow, dragging manner -- this is especially noticeable in the case of young people

a boat from Inishturk would have to go to Clare Island on a Saturday morning for the priest, and on the following Sunday a boat from Clare Island would have to come for the priest; but in those days he remained for a few days here, administering the sacraments of matrimony and baptism and blessing graves. The island has now its own church with good seating accommodation. But formerly, mass was read in the dwelling-houses.

Spiritual Welfare: This island is part of the parish of Clare Island, from which island the priest travels hither once a month, arriving here, Saturday evening. The priest usually travels by pookaun, but formerly

source of income; but as very little carrageen grows on these rough shores, and as beaches on to which seaweed may drift are few, this income is insignificantly small. Lobsters are sold to agents in Inishbofin, but herring and mackerel are generally brought to Cleggan. As regards livestock, the people of this island are fairly well circumstanced. Every household has about fifty sheep and in all, there are over a thousand sheep here. Likewise, every household has at least three milch cows, (and some, four) and at least three dry cattle as well. Rent and Rates have not been paid here for the past thirty years. They make a very large tillage -- each having one and a half acres of potatoes, one half-acre of corn, and now, wheat has made its appearance here. Pigs are numerous here, the majority keeping at least two pigs each. Wool is bought by merchants from the vicinity of Louisburgh.

Means of livelihood: the maximum amount of their annual income is derived from the sale of lobsters during the summer, and next to that the sale of livestock. Kelp and carrageen are to a very small extent another

Fishing: at the present time *lobstering is the only form of fishing carried on. There are eight crews engaged. The curragh is the type of boat used in lobstering, but pookauns of which there are there are sin here, are used for fishing pollock. During the summer months these boats are moored alongside the little quay; but in the winter they have to be hauled up and secured. Herring and mackerel fishing is also carried on, on a small scale.*lobster-pots are made by the natives, but the rods are felled on the mainland of Mayo; and the fishermen from here often go as far as Ballinakill (Connemara) to full rods

family. There are here, seventeen dwelling-houses and the population is 122. This is exactly double that of Inishark which has the same number of dwelling-houses. Again, the school-going population here, is, at the moment, 38, whereas, that of Inishbofin, with a population five times as great, is below thirty. The people are very hardy.

Population: Relatively, the population is much greater than that of Inishbofin or Inishark. This is due to the fact that each young man who becomes heir to his parents' property, believes in getting married at a marriageable age, and each couple rears a large

Apparel: The entire population at that time wove their own home-made clothes. The women corded, spun, and knitted, but the friezes were made by weavers in Clare Island. This procedure was extant p to about forty years ago. Spinning is entirely done away with now: and the only home-made wear now is men's socks. The old women still wear black shawls and small black head-shawls are also worn. In the case of young men and women, the apparel is modern. In former days, each man wore a homemade scarf about the neck, a bawneen, and frieze pants.

dtír bheag is ná fuil orrainn fós dul tríd an t-uathfás sin a dtugtar "Cogadh" air, ní fhagann sin gan dainnséar sin. Bfhéidir go bhfuil Dia cómh baoch sin dínn is go gcoinneógh Sé ó chogadh agus ó ruathar sin ach níl ann ach bfhéidir. Ba beag an cuímhneamh do bhí aig an creatúiraí air fuaid an tír siothchánta seo do fuair anabhás do bhárr an troid atá air siúbhal idir Sasana agus an Gearamán gur b'ortha fèin do thuitach an crann. Agus níl fhios aig éinne againne cén cinniúint atá eas ár gceann ins na laethannta dainnséaracha seo. I gcaoi nách únntac go bhfuil daoine gustalacha féin a tabhairt aire don bhaile blian mar í seo. Rud eile dhe. Tá an gluaisteán beagnách curtha don bhóthar agus ó tá rudaí mar atáid ní bheidhig na fámairaí ach mar a mbeidhig an gluaisteán air na bóithre. Nuair a stadann siol deirtear go stadann fursa, agus nuair a stad an "Petrol"

h-Éireann ná bhiadta dob osgailte dhuit idir glas is géibhinn hymn Pádraig is ainm as Gaedhilig di. Seachrán do dhem maith dá tréite, i mbannc a bháis níl aon dá ndéarfadh, dá míon cás na trí ranna a deidheanac ná tabhárfadh anam óifreann saor leis.Mairbhne Pádraig so claoidhte. Peata ins sa cill do claoidheadh le sochmhant so chlaoidte. Do scríobhadh le souna is claoidte fonn fáil Aithne ar a ghaoil.

buadhanna diagtha corógaca; gach neach a mheabharochadh iad & cách ná ciallfadh iad ar rochtain fíngeáin, feábhraí a bheadh a dheanamh fios taoibh le mná ná ag éistacht le ne gcómhrádh níor mhaith é a mhód aithrighe chun dul ó gcómhair na dlíghe riactanasamhailPé dearfadh an mairbhne seo badh beannuighthe
iad a grásta Pé dearfad an mairbhne seo a dul i dteach nuadh ná sean do faid a seasóchadh cluth faoi dhíom ann anam marbh as ní fágfad Pé dearfaidh na mairbhneacha seo d'fhear a bhead a dul a thogha mná muille badh mhaith i chéillidhe dá chéile is togha cloinne Pé dearfadh na mairbhneacha so d'fear a bheadh ag dul i geath ná i geirbhis, gach nídh dá mbuailfeadh leis in amm gaisge beadh a chuid fola 'ges na fiacha Pé dearfad an mairbhne seo d'fhear a bheadh a dul amach ar loch ag iasgach slán mairbhnead a thiocfaidís & lán a bhaid acu. Pé dearfad an mairbne so d'fhear a bhead a dul i mbád luiag na a bhfuairnéis slán mairbhneach a thiocfaidís gan dóghadh gan bathadh gan baogal anma Pé déarfad na mairbhneacha so d'fhear a bheadh a dul i mbóthar fhada ná i gceann téide do thiochfadh arís sa chóimhreamh ceadna Pé dearfadh na mairbhneacha so i gcríochaibh na

o dioghaltas an peacadh.Saor sinn ó a Thíghearna mar saorais [erratum] óin aimhleas lasaic óin glóibh lacias lat & loitcin. Saor sinn ó a Thigearna mar lob óg na péistibh agus lacius óin a cuid bhréagaig.
Saor sinn ó a Thíghearna mar shaorais Neilistineach Neilóige Nelabar gunaiseach naomh & ban naomh mar sin dóibh. Ó a Dhia cheangal ár n-anam go flaitheanchas gan creach gan fóir creach Per omnia saecula saeculorum Is mór é braon ná glaise ar gruadh na gréine gile nára sóchach so éighis mise gur éighis ar arm glasaidís nách ionnan rún creidimh duinn. A mbeadh ár ngrádh araon i seilbh gach ait [erratum] m'fheaca bean badh thaise is badh ghradhfaidhe na an ainnir bheul bhunndo b'ionnamhair fuil bradh bláth fion a bhuidhe a h-aghaidh séimh corpora & a beul chuim tais focalach beannacht leis gach anam a mbeadh an mairbhne seo dá rádh aige agus beannacht leis an anam bhí i gcolann Aithne Ní Áilne. Mise Pádraig árd asbol do tháinig go h-Éireann. Mo chuma mo sheacair mo maoir uasal is mór a bhuaidhis liom im thréagan. Mise Pádraig buidhe bhéala do leigheas gach uile beatha. Fágainn mo buanta so i geolainn Aithne Dia a ghabhailt buadh finne buadh gile labarta sin iad na

Saor sinn ó a thígearna, a Dhia ghlórmhar a athair uain cómhachtaig; a Thrínóid naoimhthe neam guth.Saor diom, coiméad m'anam ar gach sórd nídh atá a teacht trasna orram anois láithreach
Saor sinn ó a thíghearna tré seilbh rí na n-aingeal tré urnaighthe na faoisdine tré faoisdine na fáidhe agus na n-asbol mar is í cheap Dia do's gach uile anam Saor sinn ó a Thígearna mar saorais naomh Eóin basiste, ó nimh gacha peacha agus Máire Mandelion ós na seacht ndeamaim. Saor sinn ó a Thígearna mar saorais Dómhnall na bhfáidh ó trumba na leomhan. Nimhroc óin ngortaagus óin riachtanas. Saor sinn ó a Thígearna mar shaorais Peadar is Pól óin long briste eilis & annó

Bhí buachaill ann fadó agus bhí feirm mhór talún aige agus nuair a bhí sé in am pósta de dubhairt sé go ngabhfadh sé ar lorg bean dó féin. Na mná a bhí timpeall ins an áit a raibh sé ina chónaí bhí beagán gaoil aige leo go léir agus níor mhaith leis bean a mbeadh gaol ar bith aige léi a phósadh. Annsin do chuimhnigh sé ar dul i bhfad ón áit sin agus bean strainséara d'fháil; san lá sin do ghléas sé é féin i gcultach breá. D'fhág sé an teach ar maidin go moch Dia Céadaoin, bhí sé ag siúl mar sin go dtáinig an tráthnóna d'iarr sé isteach agus d'itheadh agus ocras mór air, nuair a bhí ithe agus ólta aige chuaigh ag siúl arís agus bhí sé ag siúl mar sin go dtí an dá dhéag o clog Dia hAoine, bhí sé ag dul isteach agus d'itheadh chun greim...

them and put it in his pocket. He was only a few yards gone when the pigs came after him and asked why did he pull the rose because he said he missed one gone. He told him that his youngest daughter told him when he was goin' to bring a rose home to her and when he saw all the fine roses growin' he thought it was no harm to pull one of them. The pigs head told that he could bring the rose but he would have to promise faithfully that he would send him the daughter that day twelve months to stay a while with him. He agreed to do that and brought the rose home with him. The daughter was glad to get the rose and the others were mad when he brought nothing to themselves. He told them how

Beads black small & big were used on the bodices. A V shape around neck, circles on breasts & beads also on sleeves
Shawls grey, brown, & black for widows. White frilled caps worn by old women starched & ironed every week Cotton head-kerchiefs brown & blue with white spots Ribbons were worn by young girls around the hair with bow in the middle Racaí cinn worn called temple combs here Bonnets were worn by well to-do. High in front & tied under chin with black ribbon. Did not cover poll. Some had two black feathers

Bantry's mercy. He could save a man from the scaffold and saved Peter. He was a native of Carbery, and an OLeary from Cool. Mountain near Dunmanway often visited him at Dereen.
[Written down by Dermot OSullivan N.T. Lehud [?] from John Sullivan (Batt) aged 70 years, from Lehud]

Bodices generally black worn over skirts with whale bone inside all the sewings of bodice to keep it stiff. Bodices lined & tied with hooks & eyes & bodice buttoned in front outside
Necks high-fitting: Leg of mutton sleeves that is puffed below the shoulder & then straight down A very big brooch was worn just at the neck. Black skirts serge worn long & loose: about 3 yards used. Black braid at tail and skirt lined Blue pilot hood-cloaks £1 a yard made by tailors Lasted a life time. Handed down from mother to daughter Single girls sometimes wore them

Mrs Whyte went to Mass wearing Mrs Burke's bonnet, cape & skirt
It can be vouched for that Mrs Whyte wore these on the 3rd Sunday after Mrs Burke's death. Everbody was surprised to see her thus dressed) People bought from pedlars & generally gave rags and bottles for payment. White & red flannel petticoats were worn by girls & women. These were spun, corded & dyed at home. They were dyed with logwood copperas through the logwood for blue maginto & scarlet dye for red Shifts: Grey Calico Two petticoats white & red and also white & blue. Tail of petticoats bound with black tape

be worn to Mass at least once.
(In this connection a tale is told of an old teacher (Mrs Burke) of Crogh School. When she died a skirt, cape & bonnet were given to the woman who washed & laid out Mrs Burke. This woman's name was Mrs Whyte who was also gone (R.I.P. to both). This Mrs Whyte never wore a bonnet only a shawl. So the first Sunday after Mrs Burke's death Mrs Whyte did not wear the clothes. That night Mrs Burke appeared to her and said "Glory Mrs. Whyte why did you not wear my clothes". The next Sunday Mrs Whyte again did not wear the clothes (apparently ashamed to wear the bonnet) & a second time she heard Mrs Burke say: "Glory why did you not wear my clothes". The third Sunday

that everybody put a penny in the pocket of the coat & the saying "Well wear and soon tear" was used.
His new suit was usually worn first to Mass. Boys and girls were dressed alike that is petticoats & skirts etc. The boys were about 10 or 12 years before they got trousers Black and white Shepherd plaid for babies. They were dressed in pink & white flannel until they were about 6 months. They then wore plaid dresses until they were grown up & the first plaid dresses were made from an old plaid apron (All these made by the mother) No mourning. Clothes belonging to the dead were given away & they were to

He appears in the shape of a cow a god a man a pig and some others.
He said that he had often and often heard it said that there was a man that had a little dog and he was very fond of him altogether and he used to bring out this dog and lead him around the roads on a chain and he was very good to him entirely and he would feed him three times a day and had a lovely bed for him and all in his own room and the dog was what you like. There was another thing about the dog he was awful cute and the man was very fond of him for that to. I'll tell you now what that dog would do, he would see the boos lighting his pipe and then he would go into a corner and there was an old pipe there and he would put that in his mouth and he would say to himself that he would have a smoke to and begor there he would

The well to do people had Swallow tails and knee breeches with brass buttons at the knees and a bow made of ribbon at the knee.
They also had a fancy body waistcoat. Prices for making these 2s-6d breeches: 2s-0d waistcoat: 5s-6d for the coat (made in the houses) Tailors made the hooded cloaks for women and girls (in the houses) They made no other clothes for women or girls. Girls' clothes were made by their mothers. There were no specialised dressmakers. Mothers made the boys' trousers too in the beginning and many a boys' first trousers was an old one of his father's cut short Children (especially boys) always showed off their first new suit, to all the neighbours and the custom was

Tailors went from house to house in old days. This custom ceased about 50 years ago
They made cordroy trousers, frieze coats & flannel vests (Báiníns) and tweed body waistcoats Trousers 1s-6d: Body waistcoat 1s-6d 4s-6d for coat and 6d (Báinín) (These were the prices for making only)

[-]

Dress of Men & Boys (in general)
Underclothes worn locally are singlet drawers (woollen) Vest of suit Worn mostly in cold weather. Shirts: linen: shop: Trousers as are worn generally in Ireland: tailor-made or bought readymade. Long trousers was held up at knees by cords. Boys were old i.e. 17 or so before they got "their first long pants' Stockings etc: Home-knit. woollen

were frilled. "Crimping iron" (?) probably similar to Questionnaire's "Tallon" iron was used to iron the frills and lace-trimmings of the cap, which was made at home.
Older women wore them, both married & single. Head-kerchiefs: were worn. 'Pixie' style more like little shawls. Red linen generally. Colours: red for poorer classes (called Turkey-red) others brown or fawn.

22830.
There were two boys one time, and they wern't a bit afraid of anything. One evening they went out to pick marbles of the oak trees and when they were coming home they had to pass by a graveyard. So they went inside and sat down on a flag and started to divide the marbles between them. It was about ten o'clock at night and there was a man passing by on his way home and he heard the two boys talking inside, and he got an awful fright. So he stopped and listened. When the boys knew that he stopped they said they would give him a bit of a fright. So they started dividing the marbles and saying "two for you and two for me and one for the fellow outside" When the lad outside heard this he got a fright and started to run for his life. He met another man on the road and he asked him why the dickens was he running,

22729
a bet on it. They bet this fellow two shillings that he wouldn't eat a fourpenny loaf while another fellow would be walking a mile. He said very well. So one man stood up and said he would walk the mile, and then another man was sent with him to see would he walk the mile. So the two fellows started out to walk the mile, and the other fellow started to eat the four-penny loaf. He was eating away for some time and he eat about half of it. Then he went up to the fire and sat down and began to smoke. He smoked for about five minutes and then he said he was getting hungry again so he went over and he finished the loaf, and he was licking the crumbs off the table when the two fellows walked in. So he won his bet.

There were a crowd of fellows one time in a house and they were talking about healthy people and people with large appitites. There was one man there and he said he could eat a four-penny loaf after his supper. He happened to be after his supper that night about half an hour. So they put

22628
There was another case of a very nervous man and a fellow dressed himself up this night and stood at a graveyard gate to wait for him and frighten him if he could. When the nervous man came up to the gate he looked and he saw a black and a white form standing side. "Oh" says he I never saw two of you there before." The white man looked around and saw the other fellow, and then he began to shout and ran for his life.

Cloaks
Women wore cloaks on all important occasions. Colour black. Best of serge with silk hood. (serge cost £1 a yard). It was worn over back and shoulders; and was a most 'graceful' garment. It was supposed to pass from mother to daughter. Much material was used - say about 3½ yds. Cost about £3 to £4. Shawls: Colours: Fawn: Paisley. was most fashionable; worn on the occasion of marriage. Bought in shops. Also, of course, the usual black shawls. Head-dress: White-caps were worn locally.

There was a man one time and he was very nervous altogether, but it was said that he used often see things that wern't right. One night a fellow dressed himself up in white, and went and stood in a place where the devil was supposed to appear, and the nervous fellow came along. He looked and he saw the white form in the ditch. Coming up to the white form was a black one, and the nervous man shouted out to the white fellow "Run white devil or the black devil will have you"

22527
in a trance. Some people said that maybe she was. The went to the graveyard again and opened the grave. They opened the coffin, and then the found the woman with her arm broken. She awoke from the trance, and started to struggle so much that she broke her arm.

There was another woman and she was buried, and when her own people went home, and were stirring up the bed on which she was waked they found it hot. So they began to think was she

22426
lady jumped up and started to shout. The two fellows ran for their lives. She wasn't dead at all, but only in a trance, so she got up out of the vault and walked home, with nothing on her only her habit. You may imagine the fright her own people got when she walked into the house in the dead of the night. Three months after this a child was born to her, and she would give any money to the two fellows who tried to take the ring of her finger for saving her life, but she never could find out who they were.

instead (they) did not attend dances or such local festivities, for a year.
Clothes were not worn for the 'dead'. Black-crêpe bands were sometimes worn, on the day of the funeral, on the mens' hats. The dead person's clothes were given away to poor people, and prayers were asked for the deceased's soul in return. Shamrock, & palm, were and are still worn on hats and coats. A peacock's feather was worn on festive occasions but it was considered unlucky. Girls' and women's dress (as far as I know) some 40 yrs ago was similar to that worn generally in Irish rural districts. However, I noted the following items of interest.

22325
There was a grand lady one time put in a vault, and there was a wedding ring on her finger valued at five pounds. It was her last with to be buried with the valuable ring on her finger. There were two fellows living in the neighbourhood, and they heard about it and they said they would go to the vault and take the ring off her finger. They said to themselves that it would be no harm, as it wasn't robbery So this night they went into the vault and opened the coffin and tried to take the ring off her finger, but it was very tight on it, and it wouldn't pull off no matter what they would do. One of the fellows then took out his pen-knife and and started to cut the finger, but the moment he did, so, the

22224
a faint on the floor. The man of the house told him to bring back that skull for God's sake and leave it where he got it, before the wits would be frightened out of all the people in the house. So the lad said it was as good for him to be moving by the time he got back. So he picked up the skull and yawned and stretched, the very same as if he was going out to have a look at the animals before going to bed. He went to the graveyard and laid the skull in the vault, and came home quite contented, two shillings the richer. You may be sure nobody ever asked to go to the graveyard again and bring anything out of it.

22123
the vault, didn't the lad follow me and I stopped and asked him what did he want, and he said that he wanted his skull. I walked up real close to him, and do you know what it is all these ghosts are very nervous things didn't he start to run, and I saw no more of him. So I took up my skull and walked home with it. The woman of the house was gone to bed, and she wakened when she heard the heard the talk and down to the kitchen to see how the lad got on. When she was coming into the kitchen, the table was on her left and, of course the skull was on it, and it happened that the face was turned towards her, and all the teeth were grinning at her. She looked at it for the space of a second, and then she let a roar out of herself and fell in

weighing a stone, more or less.
These were taken to the local weavers (Lonergans or O'Brien's) who wove them into flannel. This flannel was used for the general clothing of the people - for overcoats, women's clothing etc. Dyeing was done by local dyers - numerous in those days. Bought materials were used - naturally those that could not be provided at home. The flannels for overcoats or horsemen's riding-coats, etc were generally dyed navy-blue. Quilts, petticoats etc were dyed red The Bawneens were undyed (Báinín) Mourning: It was not customary, I am told, for the local people to go into mourning for their dead relatives, as we do at the present-day. The people

22022
Give me my bob says he to the man who made the bet with him. "Begor I will" says he "if you bring that skull back and leave it where you got it". "I'll bring it back" says he "if you'll give me two bob." "Very good" says the man "here you are", and he handed the lad a two-shilling piece. "Well" says the fellow who brought in the skull, "wait until "I tell you a little story", and he laid the skull on the table, and went over to the fire, and sat down. I was taking a skull out of the vault when a voice said lave that there that's mine, so I took up another one, and he told me to leave that there too, he wouldn't let me take any of the skulls, so I took up the one that suited me, and told him that he certainly didn't own them all, and took away this one, but when I was a little bit away from

21921
shutting but he could see nothing it was so dark. So he turned around and walked off home. When he was gone another hundred yards he heard noise behind him and he looked around, and he saw a man following him, so he stopped, x and the man came right up to him. He asked him what did he want, and the man said that he wanted his skull. As soon as he spoke the other fellow recognised his voice for he forgot to change it, but he didn't let on he knew him at all. "What do you want with a skull." says he haven't you one on you," and he walked over to him. When he was up at him he ran away and the other lad turned around and walked home with his skull. He walked in and the skull under his arm. Nearly everybody in the house feinted when they saw the skull.

the boys' first trousers - later the tailor.
Local Pedlars: Our people bought extensively from local pedlars. These pedlars visited the diffrent houses regularly; their coming always was looked forward to by the household with the greatest interest. Gypsy-caravans were then a rare feature of the country-side. A few names of local pedlars: Dáithín the Pedlar, Tom the Hopper, Jim the Fish (!) Rock-ee-Rock and Bettie (wife) Home-made materials: Woollen and linen were made locally. The wool was shoren, and then taken to the carding-mill (Clogheen, Co Tipp.) (named Rice's). Then it was brought home and the women of the house, or a hired woman, spun this carded-wool into 'thread' as it was called locally, wound it into large wool-balls

21820
across the fields to the vault, and went inside and lay down in one corner of it. He wasn't long there, when he heard the other coming and he whistling. He opened the door of the vault and took up a skull and was walking out when the other fellow in the corner roared at him "Lave that there, that's mine." The fellow laid back the skull, and took up another one, and was walking out with it, when the other fellow roared at him again, "Lave that there that's mine." He took up six or seven skulls, but the other fellow told him to leave them there At last the lad got vexed, and took up another skull, and walked out with it saying, "they can't be all yours I'll take this one." and went off with himself. When he was a couple of yards away from the door of the vault he looked around and he heard the door opening and

21719
There were a crowd of fellows one night in a house, and they were talking about nervous people. One of them said he couldn't understand why certain people were so nervous. He said he knew a man who wouldn't go into a graveyard at night. They all told him that a man needn't be nervous and not do that. So the first fellow began to laugh. There was a vault in a graveyard near hand and it was full of skulls and one of the men said he would bet a shilling with this man who couldn't understand nervous people if he would go to the vault and take one of the skulls, and bring there to the house. He said he would certainly go and win an easy shilling. So he set out. There was another fellow in the crowd and he wasn't nervous no more than this fellow, and he said he would play a trick on him, so he jumped up and ran

21618
man was almost starving before he died. ------------------------------------------ (Two printed forms are pasted onto the page. The upper form is blank. The lower form is filled in by hand, in Irish, as follows:) Coimisiún Béaloideasa Éireann Contae: Loch gCarman Barúntacht: Fotharta Paróiste: Cuan an Cambi [?] Ainm an Sgríobhnóra: Seán de Buitléir Seoladh an Sgríobhnóra: Gráig na Coille, Dún Cormaic, Co. Loch gCarman Do sgríobhadh síos na scéalta so ó Leat. 1 go Leat. 18 ar an 20-II-'36 ó béal-aithris Bean Ní Breatnach [?] (Aois 60) Gairm-bheatha: Bean siúinéara atá ina comhnaí i Gráig na Coille agus a saolaíodh agus a tógadh i Carraig Uí Bran [?], Loch gCarman Do chuala sé (sí) na scéalta so 40 bliain ó shin ó ................ (Aois ........) a bhí ina comhnaí i ................

21517
you haven't lost him for he got off the train here an hour ago, and trotted home for himself. ------------------------------------------ There was another farmer lived in the parish of Adamstown, and one year all his cows had heifer calves all the mares had filly foals, all the sheep had ewe lambs everything in the place gave birth to she things. The farmer said that it was eighter a sign of good or bad luck. It turned out to be a sign of bad luck, for he was broke out of the place a year afterwards. Another strange thing happened the same farmer. A mare had two foals, a cow had two calves a sow had a litter of bons, and his wife had twins, all the one day. It all was a sign of bad luck he said, and it turned out as he said for the poor man

21416
often drove a lot of cattle to the fair, and sold them, and then himself and the dog would go home on the train. One day anyhow, he didn't go home by train, for he had a lot of cattle to drive home, that he didn't sell. When he was starting off for home he couldn't find the dog anywhere, so he drove home the cattle himself. He had no trouble driving them for they knew the road after coming in. On his way home he had to pass by the railway-station where he used to get out when he would be coming home from the fair. It was the nearest station to his own house. He met the station-master and they were talking about the fair. Then the farmer told him that he had lost his dog on the fair, and said he didn't know what he would without him. "Begor" says the station-master

21315
house door. They got them as far as the door allright, but the dickens a bit further they'd go no matter what they'd do. The farmer had a large sheep-dog and he was standing in the kitchen door looking on, disgusted. He went over to the cow-house door, and he stuck his tail down in one of the buckets of milk, and stuck it up to one of the calf's mouths. The calf caught the tail, and started to suck it, and the dog walked into the cow-house. Then he came out and gave his tail to another calf, and sucked it, and he never stopped until he had all the calves in. --------------------- There was another farmer and he was telling about his dog. This farmer used be at all the fairs in the county, and of course he would have his dog with him. He

I often heard him him telling tales about the devil and he would say that he is the most plentiful being on this earth. He used to say that he is in every shape and form here on this world and he would certainly believe that he can almost do anything as he says that he is very powerful. The devil nearly has as much power as the man above and he is able to turn himself into a lot of different shapes.

I remember to see a park near Limerick an’ they used grow three crops a year there an’ sell milk an’ cabbage in the market in Limerick an’ I remember to see the woman who had it goin’ in to Limerick with a shawl and a pin in front here and a kerchief on her head. Marooney valued the pork at a penny a head for the cabbage, “The King of the Cabbage Garden,” that was what the barrister called him, Marooney was for the landlord.I chanced to be visitin’ thirty years ago in a friend’s place out here in Keeper and this man, I met him

the farmer.When tay begin to come they used to draw it for themselves and squeeze it then an’ dry it an’ draw it again for the servantmen.
'They' was a man here an’ he went to Mitchelstown, workin’ for a greyhound an’ he stayed there, the night, an’ came back the followin’ day. They used go to the races from here to Baronslow [or Baronstown] outside Tipperary an’ take their shoes in their fist an’ walk there.

'Tis in the parish of Killoscully.

There are the ruins of an old mansion in Carrowmore near Closetoken, It belonged to a gentleman named Lambert about two hundred years ago, it must have been a very big building because the ruins of it nearly cover half an acre of ground, a lot of the stones were drawn from it to make roads and to build houses, and to build the walls which divide the farms after the land had been divided. The gentleman who owned the land and house was very wealthy, he was an Englishman, and had a lot of servants working for him he used keep racehorses and used run them at all the big races in the country, he used keep twelve or fourteen cows

Title: Deer in Moor Park (continued)religion. They were a bad lot anyway.
I remember meself the time Father Greene spoke of them above on the altar at Kilworth chapel one Sunday. Twas how they wanted to build a house for the curate near the chapel gate on morrough's land. The morroughs were tenants of the mountcashels and they were afraid to ask the landlords for the land for the priest's house. They got it after to build labourers' cottages and 'twas then that Fr. Greene spoke. "The priest in Kilworth will have a house yet" says he "when there won't be a morrough or a mountcashel there" and sure 'twas true for him. There isn't one of them there now. The same day he spoke about the hell. For a long time there was no chapel bell ringing in Kilworth. The mountcashels wouldn't allow it. They were a bigoted ould crowd. "They wouldn't have the bell be rung" says Fr. Greene "for fear 'twould offend their lordly ears."

487was cutting it down.
Jack did n’t know what he’d do, till he thought of the gold tied to his belt; so, he ripped it and it fell down on top of his mother cutting down the beanstalk in her best with a hatchet – and the blow she got knocked her un-conscious: ’tis a wonder it didn’t kill her altogether! The minute Jack put his leg on the ground, he told the girl to take his mother out of his way; and he caught up the hatchet and cut the beanstalk with one stroke. And it broke off; and the fall killed the giant. So, Jack had his bag of gold; and when he married the girl a couple of weeks after he had a wife for himself. And they all lived happy together – and if they didn’t, that we may!

"Well," t. "wasn't that an awful dream I had or was it a dream?" &.
So she began to think an' the dress that she wore on the journey was hangin' on the peg an' she went an' she took it an' she looked at it. There the lower part of it was all torn an' all wet by the grass an' the bushes. It was worn long, you know, it was streamin' to the ground. She said that is was no dream but that it was an awful thing. Well she got up about nine o'clock an' she was gettin' her breakfast an' she went to this cupboard an' in this shelf instead of oaten male they was seventy five shillins. Every grain of oaten male he took in the pinch was a shillin' an' 'tis so she got well paid for her night. I heard that from my own mother. Well it could be about maybe sixty years or a little more. In Abbeyfeale.

more children and I would give 'em all a good education and bring 'em up in the fear of God. I don't understand you at all going mad because you have a couple of children to rear."
Begor he left the other poor fella without a word and he went on living and reared a fine big family and had plenty of money and everything.

There is a mine in Keeper, a copper mine but it was never worked. 'Twas opened by a friend of mine, he was expecting people would come to work it and no one come.

before dawn in Limerick an’ he came along to value the land an’ he introduced himself as the landlord’s inspector. He asked for a man with a spade an’ there was no man there but myself an’ I went with him an’ I began to dig in every hollow I met where there was very little surface.“I think I met you before,” says he to me.
“Maybe you did,” says I. I dug three or four holes where the surface was shallow. He wasn’t satisfied, he brought me to this height: “Try this,” says he. I did an’ as luck would have it where would I dig but on top of a rock. “As bad is luck the worse is Donal,” says he. We were talkin’ away then an’ I says to him: “I met you in the parish of Emly,” says I, “an’ the land there is different to this. We had a chat then. There is a mine in Keeper, a copper mine but it was never worked. It was opened by a friend of mine, he was expecting people would come to work it and no one come.

we were poor and we began to wonder would we ever be any richer than that. Of course we were no poorer than we were for God always turned up something for us. Begor we kept going on and we had twelve children and we were getting a little better off and times got a better and we never stopped until we had seventeen children and begor we were well off then and I'll tell you the reason why. I had four or five sons out working and they used to send home plenty of money and that was what used to keep us going and in all I had seventeen children and I give God thanks that I have 'em. And I do believe that God never sent a mouth on this world but he sent something to go in it and if I could I would like to have seventeen

an' in a short time the child was born an' there did a girl come in to the room with a basin o' water an' Biddy knew that girl to be dead not longer than a month an' she gev [gave] a wink to Biddy as much as to say, be careful where you are. So when Biddy had her work done she came on down to the kitchen an' she was taken in to another room an' she was ordered to eat an' to drink an' she wouldn't have neither of um. Well anyhow the man that came for her come in to the kitchen again.
"Anytime you please now," &. "I'll take you home. "Alright," says Biddy, "I'm ready now." So on she went out an' he brought the same horse an' he went on the horse's back an' he wint himself on the saddle an' on she came, home, an' she didn't know the route at all or she didn't know where was she, 'twas a very dark night but when they arrived at the door he put his hand in his pocket an' he took out a pinch of oaten meal. He said: "Here is your hire." She said nothing but She was so vexed she threw it up on an ole dresser she had, an old shelf, an' she went away in to bed an' she got a kind of a sleep an' she woke after a while an' the day was appearin' through the little winda.

So one night she was called out of her sleep by her name three times an' she got up an' she opened the door of her little hut an' when she looked out she saw a horse standing at the door an' a man standing by the horse's head having a hold of the bridle an' he says:
"Come on Biddy. Come on in a hurry." "Who are you?" "Oh there is no time," he says, "for questions like that." So she went an' she slipped on her dress an' came on an' he put his hand under her arm and helped her up an' she went behind him on the horse. Away they wint. She didn't know where they were goin' and in thim days the woman used wear long dresses. She used to find the furze bushes an' briars tearing bits of her dress. In the finish they arrived at a farmer's house but the door was open. The house was full o' people an' she knew everywan of um to be dead, some of um dead for years an' more of um only dead for a short time. Well the man that brought her come in to the kitchen. He told her come on. "Follow me," &. He took her in to a room an' there was a woman there sick, in labour wit' a child. Biddy tripped off an' went to work

Ar Caisid
"Have pity on my little ones," And falling back she died. Críoch --- "An Díbeartach" I I'm back to Ireland, where the fields are always green Where the morning comes, a smile of God & blesses every scene Where the noon rings out the Angelus and twilight's balmy air. Is hallowed by the feathered folk intoning evening prayer. II I'm going back to Ireland, where the heart is ever young. Where every boy greets you in the sweet old Irish tongue. Where chapel bells from vales and dells, Their angel message pour. And holy mountains point the way.

There used to be a ghost seen in the hollow of the CARNALYNCH road, beyond Gargan's cross (on the Bailieboró - Virginia road). A man would come out from the ditch and stand on the road when a farmer would be passing. I think the farmer was one of the Dunnes, of Curlurgan. The ghost would get in his way when he was passing. Eventually, the farmer made up his

486be ready to deal with her) he gave a roar; and he ran out to the room where the bodies were – and she wasn’t there, either; and he went into another room looking for her – and whatever look he gave out the window he saw herself and Jack outside, preparing to make their escape down the beanstalk.
He tore out of the room like a gale of wind; and out the door with him, roaring, and shouting for the girl to come back. When she wouldn’t come back, he started climbing down after them, himself. But he was too awkward for climbing and they had no bother in beating him. But when they were halfways down about – and the ground nearly a mile away yet, I suppose they felt the “tree” waggling from side to side, like that someone

485and a pot as big as a mountain hanging over it. He used to boil all his meals in that pot.
He had a big block of a tree there to sit down on; and he had Jack’s head in his lap and he scooping out… Well, just and the pair going out the door, he got a sudden fit and stood up out of his seat and went out into the kitchen. He had to pass through the kitchen to go to the room where he used to keep all the dead bodies; and I was told myself ’twas how he could find no brains in Jack’s oul’ skull to make his soup, and he was coming out to get another head, – and that’s how he found they were gone so quick. Anyway, when the girl wasn’t in the kitchen (after he warning her not to leave it till he’d

In the town where I lived there was an old woman went by the name of Biddy Mulcahy. In thim days she was what will I call it? (1) — a midwife and my mother used to sell milk across the counter an' my job used be every second day to take this old lady a half-pint of milk an' every Saturday night regular she'd pay up and she'd give me a ha'penny, that was my hire for the week. I knew her well. (aside)

fast as his two heels could carry him. The Irish giant pursued him, and when they got to the Irish sea the English giant jumped in and swam away at great speed. The Irish giant couldn't swim, but he lifted up a sod and fired it after the English giant and killed him. That sod lay in the Irish sea after it killed the giant, and they christened it "The Isle of Man".

12. Offerings are made at the well.
13. Medals, Sacred Heart Badges, Relics, Rosary Beads and Crucifixes are offered. 14. The offerings are nailed to the tree beside the well. 15. Offerings are placed there by people when they visit the well. Pieces of cloth are affixed. 16. St. Munn was journeying through the place and stopped to rest. He touched the ground and the well sprang up to provide him with water. There is a big stone slab near the well on which he slept, and which is still called St. Munn's Bed. About twenty years ago the well was situated about 50 yards from its present site. There was a huge oak tree overhanging the well, which Edward Fortune cut down and sold. The person who bought the tree was unable to have it removed, and it rotted in the ground where it lay. When the tree was cut the well dried up, and sprang up 50 yards away. The water of the well is used by the people of the vicinity for household purposes. There are marks on the slab where St. Munn lay to rest. There is a cross where his head lay, and the impressions of his hands and feet are on the slab. 17. There is nothing known of the the antiquity of the pilgrimage. 18. Application could be made for a photograph of the well to Mr. Laurence Banville, Shanoule, Foulksmills, Co. Wexford.

484the girl, “before the giant ’ll come in and find us here.”
“That’s right,” says Jack. “Come on!” “But we can’t go anywhere,” says the girl. “We’ve nowhere to go!” “Yerra,” says Jack, “can’t we go back to Ireland, the way I came up here. Up the beanstalk. And,” says he, “wasn’t I an awful fool not to think of it long ago!” So, the girl went in to get ready; and when she was coming out, she took a big bag of gold out of the giant’s treasure-room, and gave it to Jack; and he fastened it someway to his belt. And then they went out and caught a hoult of the beanstalk growing right in front of the door, and started climbing down in their best. The giant was inside in his boiling-room all the time, suspecting nothing. He had a big blazer of a fire made down

One time there was a giant in a foreign country and he came over to Ireland to fight an Irish giant. The fight started and the Irish giant hit the English giant and knocked him down. The English giant got up and ran away as

483on account of having to do away with the girl.
He came into the room where all the dead bodies was; and he went from one to one of them – and when he came to Jack he stopped and he stooped down and slashed the head off him with his big butcher’s knife. He wanted it to take out the brains of it; and make brain-soup or brain-stew – or something like that. You’ll understand it, yourself. The minute he was gone out, the girl came in with her own butcher’s knife, and she stooped down, and cut off one of the heads of the bodies, and stuck it on to Jack – and he was all right, then. And it appears the fellow that she cut the head of him was a very smart man, – a scholar and so on – and Jack wasn’t Jack the Fool any more. “We must go somewhere,” says

the way he could devour the oaten bread. "Get up," says the woman to the lad in the cradle, "and show this man some of your father's tricks." He got up and they all went out along with him, and there was a stone about a ton weight and he threw it three or four fields away. The English giant says:- "Could your father put that stone much further?" "Oh, God bless you," says the Irish giant; "my father could drive it over to England or Scotland". When the English giant heard this he got afraid and cleared away from the place.

482won’t find me, I might be able to help you to make your escape.”
“I don’t know anywhere you could hide,” says the girl, “unless you’ll take your chance with the dead bodies again.” Jack wasn’t anxious to give that plan another trial at all; so he said to be thinking out a new plan between this and morning and then they ’d see what ’d be the best to be done. That night passed away, anyway; and the next morning the girl told Jack the best plan she could think of was for him to hide among the dead bodies again; and it might happen the giant ’d pass him by, this time. Poor Jack was killing himself trying to think how would the girl escape – and he could n’t think of any way she could make her way back to Ireland. The giant didn’t go out at all that morning on account

And he made her put the griddle in the one she made for the English giant. He got into the cradle on the day that the English giant was coming. The English giant arrived and asked the wife where was her husband. "He's away," says she, "but he'll be back in a couple of hours. Sit down and have some refreshments". She got ready a pot of tea and gave him a "clipe" of the oaten bread with the griddle in it. The first mouthful he took he broke three of his teeth. "That's a terror," says he; "that's very hard bread". "Not at all," says she; "it's quite soft. Sure, the child in the cradle is able to eat that bread". She went over to the cradle and gave her husband some of the cake that the griddle wasn't in. The English giant got an awful shock when he saw the size of the "child" and

481didn’t touch some of them, but he cut bits here and there off of a lot of them; and his arms were full when he came to Jack. He stooped down and gave one cut of the knife – and whipped off one of Jack’s legs.
But no sooner was the giant out of the way than the girl ran in with another butcher’s knife and whipped off a leg of one of the corpses and stuck it on to Jack; and he was as good as ever, then, of course, and he stood up and put on his clothes. “Oh, Jack!” says the girl. “Did you hear what he said to me? Oh, Jack!” says she. “Save me! Save me; and don’t let him persecute me, and kill me like that!” “I’ll do my best,” says Jack; “but ’tis too late to do anything, now! But if you’ll be able to hide me again to-morrow where he

Deer in Moore Park.
When the mountcashels were in Kilworth, they used to have deer in Moore Park and they used to have wan of them ould-fashioned guns for shooting them. Twas a gun with a leg out of it half-way up the barrel that you'd stick in the ground and you standing up to take aim. Some of the lads were staling apples wan day and they came up on a young little deer in a clump of grass and they brought him home, bit after a bit they took him back again. They were afraid to keep him. The mountcashels were a terrible family and while they lived you dair look at their property. The curate's house. 'Tis said that the mountcashels used to give soup to the poor people in the hard times to make them change their

480my enchantments than is good for you – or good for me,” says he.
So, he told her then he had his mind made up, and that he ’d kill her to-morrow; and give her some awful torture before she ’d die. “You can say what you like,” says he, “but I know you aren’t faithful to me any more, and when you aren’t, I have no business of you here: you’re only a danger to me!” The poor servant-girl could say nothing with the shock and the fright she got! Jack, outside in the next room, heard all that passed between them; and he got such a shock that he sat up on the floor – and he had only just time to settle himself down again before the giant ’d come in and find him. He went along from one to one of the dead bodies with a big butcher’s knife in his hand. He

There was a giant in England and he sent a challenge to a giant in Ireland and told him he was coming over on such a day to fight him. The Irish giant was getting afraid of the English giant, so he thought of a plan to get the better of him. He made a big cradle that he could lie down in, himself, and he got the woman to make two oaten cakes - one for himself and the other for the English giant.

There is a blessed well in Killsighnun and they make rounds there. You go around three times and you drink some of the water after. You say a rosary each time you go around. It is supposed to be good for sore eyes. I think 'tis the eight of April they go there and they leave some token after them, they tie a rag on a bush and the bushes are covered with rags.
I think you go three Saturdays there also. I believe you are suppose to see a trout in the well to get cured. I heard my grandmother saying that there was a girl with sore eyes went to blessed well to pay rounds and when she was doing the third round she saw an eye in the well. She took the eye out and applied the eye to her own eyes and she got completely blind. You are not supposed to touch what you see in the well.

The Two GiantsA long time ago, there were two giants on top of the Ox Mountains. They were arguing the one of them was stronger than the other so they said they would throw a stone to see which of them would throw it farthest. The first giant lifted a big rock and threw it into the sea. Then the other threw a big stone and it fell about a mile from the sea. The second giant was so angry that he split a rock in two parts and ever since it is called the split rock and it is said that if a person went through the split in the rock three times it would close on him.
This story was told to me by Michael Mc Loughlin, Doontas, Killasser. He said that he used to hear his grandmother often telling it. She died about 30 years ago.

The Earls of Kerry I heard were buried in the mount monument at Lixnaw. Lady Dowager was buried in Lixnaw.

their parents would no know they were smoking, and would hide their pipes when they found them coming. Very often if a man had a suspicion that his son was smoking he would search the lads clothes for a pipe and tobacco, and if he found them the lad would get a beating. The young fellows often hid the pipes and tobacco outside. A young man wouldn't let his parents know that he was smoking till he wable to out and work and earn money for himself. Then he would come back and smoke in the presence of his father and mother.

fell across Phil Henry where he was lying in a faint in the lane. When they found out who he was they picked him up and had to leave him at home. They secured the buck and saw that he didn't do any damage with the blazing sod of turf. And he didn't go back to the garden any more.

suddenly. His body swelled up about four times normal size. They sent for the doctor and he could do nothing for him. They sent for a priest by the name of Father Hartnett and he came and he explained to him what he had done.
In the meantime the sick man owned a sheepdog and he was in the kitchen at the time. He could see the dog start running round as if affected by rabies, then drop dead. The young man recovered and the priest advised him after that never to interfere with anybody that wouldn't interfere with him.

and as he was running along the turf was in a blaze and the sparks were flying out of it. A man called Phil Henry was coming home from the town with a half cwt of Indian meal on his back. It was a middling dark night, and it was a lonely lane that he was travelling. The buck goat came racing along with the blazing sod of turf on his horns and the sparks flying out of it. When Phil Henry saw him coming he thought it was the devil was in it, and he dropped the bag of meal and fell in a faint in the lane. The two boys that put the sod of turf on the buck's horns followed him, afraid he would go into the haggard and set it on fire. The night was dark, and as they were coming along in pursuit of the buck, they

There was a young man lived in a town [townland] called Sceach an Larrapuin ⁽¹⁾ or rather a village. He was very fond of being out at night and being out very late. Coming home one night to show his bravery in passing a fort he challenged the fairies and he took his coat off an' said:
"I'll fight the fairies." He got no response and came home. He was taken ill ⁽¹⁾ In Listowel parish

Drinking and Smoking When a young boy got drunk for the first time he felt ashamed of himself next day, and he didn't want to be seen for a while after it - till he thought the people forgot all about it. But after a while when he got drunk a few times it didn't annoy him so much, in fact, some of them "gloried" in it and thought it would be a great thing for people to ^be able to say he was drunk. They would begin to smoke a pipe when they were ten or eleven years of age. They would nearly always get sick after their first smoke, but still they would persist in it till they could smoke without getting sick. Company keeping and wakes were the principal causes of young men beginning to smoke. They would get free pipes and tobacco at the wakes, and that started them to smoke. They would be afraid that

about it but anyhow she revealed the thing to him fully of what had happened.
"And," said she, "it is in the house," said he, "of the a person an' something will occur in that house that will surprise the people of the parish," — do you see. In about three weeks after what happened was but the mother of this boy cut her throat with a slasher and furthermore his father I think it was at the second last election he came in to vote and going out of that same house where this watch was taken, the dunkey was outside the channel an' he was taken ill an' he died on the spot.

I come back again, woe unto you if you can't tell my name". She was very troubled about this and one day the king was out riding his horse and when he came home he said to his wife, I saw the queerest looking man you ever saw and he was sitting around a fire in the field singing this for himself, "Burn fire, bake cake tomorrow the royal babe I take", for little thinks that Queenly dame, that "Rump-peel, Still Skin" is my name".The Queen knew in the minute who it was but she never pretended to the king but, said in her own mind "I'll be all right when the 'maneen' comes again as I will know his name." The following day this 'maneen' did come and said to the Queen, "what's my name now, my Queen"? She said "Rump-peel, Still-Skin" is your name. The little man got a start and disappeared up the chimney and never bothered the Queen again, so ends my story.

that hat hanging on that wall now, regularly except on Sundays. He'd wear it on Sunday. Anyhow this morning he had himself ready to go to last Mass, he looked for his watch it was gone. The watch was taken. He asked the fathers did he know anything about it. No. So to consider himself then, he remembered that one fellow went in and only one that day morning. He asked for a few pence worth of sweets and he went to hang in the kitchen. There was a peg in the kitchen to hang up his coat.
Anyhow he suspected this boy took the watch and he was right in his suspicion. He was a young fellow about eighteen at this time stage. I met him at Mass. He told me all about it so when he returned from Mass, he called in again. He asked him about it. He denied it. He said, no, he knew nothing about it. Very well it worked on. "I dunno," said he, "would I send the police out," said he, "to him." "Do not," said I. "Better leave him alone. He's young," said I, "don't expose him." Anyhow he was confident that he was the fellow that took the watch. He asked it several times and didn't get it back. He told his people an' he told his parents that he did take it. Anyhow he was bothered over it and he went to a fortune-teller to Limerick, a woman, I dunno did he give her any hint

As before, she commenced to weep and the 'maneen' came in again. He told her that when she'd become a Queen, that she'd have to give him the first born child, and she said she would. Of course this man knew that the king was to marry her after this turn of gold, so he changed the straw into gold again for her and went away.When the king came in and saw the heap of gold again, he was very pleased with her and he brought her into the finest room he had in his palace and gave her a great breakfast and soon after, she and the king were married and she became Queen. When it was time, there was a child born for her and soon this "maneen" came to her and demanded the child as she had promised but she would not give the child so then he said he would give her another chance, "what is my name" he said. She said that she didn't know. "Well," he said "I will give you one chance more", "when

Ar Caisid For two nights and a day.
Had passed her parched and burning lips As on that straw they lay. III The store of corn that she held clasped. And dealt out meagerly. Had all but vanished from her hand. Of grains there were but three. IV The weeping of her starving child. And hunger's constant pain. And fever's torturing agonies. Had pierced the mother's brain. V Oh mother cried the famished child. I am so hungry. Into the mouth of the little one, She placed the corns three. Then raising up her careworn head. "My God", — she feebly cried

The Mill of Ballygasty. The mill of Ballygasty near
Loughrea called in Irish béal a' Chósta was the home of my ancestors for centuries. On getting the legacy from the Browns my great-grand father improved Ballygasty Mill and planted trees all around.

all and she started to weep bitterly. Soon a small "maneen" stood before and said to her, "Maiden, maiden, tell me true, wherefore weep those eyes so blue". She then told him her story and he said "if that's all, I'll fix it for you". She had a ring in her finger and he told her to give it to him and then the straw started changing into gold sovereigns until there was a big heap of gold on the floor, and then the "maneen" disappeared out. When the king came in, he took the heap of gold and gave her some more straw and told her to change that into gold. She started to weep again as before and the 'maneen' came in again and told her to give him his her necklace and then he changed the straw into a heap of gold on the floor. When the king came in, he was very pleased with the heap of gold so he gave her another bundle of straw and told her to change it into gold

The Browns of Mount Hazel
had no heir for their own for all their wealth, and in their old age they left it all to my great-great-grand- mother's children.

HALLOW EVE NIGHT:- On Hallow Eve Night young people would "dress themselves up" – they would disguise themselves. They would put on old coats and tall hats, and they would go around and whack doors with heads of cabbage that they pulled up in the fields. They would remove gates and take the wheels off carts and hide them some distance from the houses of the owners. They would hang bags outside people's windows, and they would tie the doors so that the people inside couldn't get out. They would plug chimneys with

wan she could find. The daughter told her that she ate them all. When the mother went back to the spinning or weaving or whatever she was at, she started singing a song and this was the song she was singing, "thirteen tarts for one meal, thirteen tarts for one meal." and at the same time, who did she see riding on a horse towards her but the king and he asked her why she was so jolly. "Well," says she, "I can spin flax into thread but my clever daughter can change straw into gold". That night the king sent messengers to the girl to go to his palace to see her. She went and when she arrived the king gave her a bundle of straw and told to have that changed into gold when he would come out again. These are the words he said when he was leaving her, "Skin all this, your dawn is nigh and most surely you shall die".She was frightened of her life as she couldn't change the straw into gold at

I knew a boy, he lived in the town of Abbeyfeale. He was in the navy for some time. He had a valuable watch anyways that he got as a present he told me. Well this watch generally used be hung up in the kitchen in the wall, say, just like

How Tom Séanaí got done.The three houses were noted for piscogs and Tom Séanaí was minding himself from them as best he could. His policy regarding the

farmer and so they dis-owned
her. Although she married a poorer husband she still kept all her jewelry and was none the less a lady. My great-great-grand-father was a tenant of Burton Persse of Moyode near Athenry. The Ladys Persse of Moyode knew well that my great-great -grand mother had the jewelry and they happened to be going to the "County" Hunt Ball in Galway City. They asked her for the lend of the jewelry and she being a tenant lent it. She never saw the jewelry again and being a tenant could not dare ask it. They would have been evicted. This happened about one hundred and fifty-eight years ago.

"party" afterwards and get the loan of some big farmer's place for the night, and give "a return dance". They would give a big dance and entertain the bride and groom and their friends. That would be in return for them being invited to the wedding.

Riddles
"As white as milk but milk it isn't, as green as grass but grass it isn't, as red as blood but blood it isn't, as black as ink but ink it isn't. A black berry ""As round as a bowl and as deep as a cup and all the men in Kerry could not pull it up. A well"

'Tis in the parish of Killoscully.I heard there was an officer going to Athlone the time of the Siege of Athlone and he didn’t know the way very well. He saw an man breakin’ stones on the side o’ the road an’ he asked him the way. The man showed him the way and when he saw the uniform the man asked him:
“Which will win?” says he. “It doesn’t matter to you who’ll win,” says he, “you’ll be still the stone-breaker.”

at last she was killed by dogs.
Joseohine Hickey Knockalougha Knocknagashel CO Kerry.This happened in Muingnanas An old story. Two men were there long ago. Their names were John O'Connor and Jetty McElligott. They were stealing apples this night and John said to Jetty the best place to count these apples is to go in here to the graveyard. So as they were going in they lost two of the apples at the gate. There was a traveller coming on the road and he heard them dividing

An Old Story.
There lived in Brosna long ago, a priest by the name of Father Neligan. The people of this parish were a show for having night dances and he was against them. They had a had a gamble in his parish and he was against it. He called the old women of the house in which the gamble was held, a bag of wool when she would not stop it. A turkey that was to be gambled and he cursed her that she may travel through the stubbles in the parish and who ever won the turkey could not keep her. She travelled through the oat gardens within miles of her until

Long ago when I was a “[?]” about seven or eight years old I remember to have my mother lend her wool to a neighbouring woman. She was a caretaker. Sinis MacSweeney had hounding us in this townland and she was always supposed to be full of “piseógs”. She used come every May eve in our meadows gathering herbs and carrying um away an’ [?] she never done any

Well the time of the whiteboys long ago the whiteboys heard that the soldiers at Killarney was carrying a letter to the soldiers at Mallow about themselves and they came before him the mail car at a place near “Rái” more a place called [?]. They demanded the mails from the driver. The driver was an auld orangeman, he refused to give um up. So they cut the leg off o’

(Ar leanúint ó l. 580, Iml. 597)[[?] 2003 ([?])].
Irish: “Take your foot off the tree,” he said, “or I’ll cut it off.” “[?] mé asar.” He rose the hatchet to cut the foot and faith if he did old Cronin jumped from him and jumped into his carriage and drove away. The River Blackwater was just alongside him an’ he drove into it across the river and he drove water up in the air, the wheels of the carriage were so hot, I suppose from the fires of Hell. He drove water up in the air from and went off. By [?] they carried the tree. Well he lived below at “Rái” more exactly where the parish priest is living now and after he dying there was five or six boys playing cards inside there by night. He came at them in the middle again of the night an’ he tossed them up an’ down the ceiling and down on the floor an’ he killed everywan of um but wan. That man was enrolled in the brown scapular and he didn’t kill him but he broke his leg. He had, he was lame during his life. I knew his brother well, old [?] they