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5 Minute Irish Stories  Set 1 :   1-30            

1.The Wayside Fountain            Cenn Escrach of the orchards, a dwelling for 
the meadow bees, there is a shining thicket in its midst, with a drinking cup of 
wooden lathes.      -Irish 9th-10th century      



2. Daniel O' Connell and the Trickster      There was a man living at Carhan, 
near Caherciveen, in the time of Daniel O' Connell.  He was poor and he had a 
large family.  One day he was selling two pigs- a white one and    a black one- 
at Tralee  fair.  A buyer asked him how much he wanted for the white one, along 
with the black one.  The poor man thought, and no wonder, that the buyer wanted    
only the white pig; so he named the price.  The buyer immediately marked both 
pigs and took from his pocket only that  which had been asked for the white one. 
" What do you    mean?" asked the poor man. "You only inquired about the white 
pig"  "That's a lie!" said the buyer. "Didn 't I ask you how much you wanted for 
the white one along with the    black one?" The poor man could do nothing but 
give him the two pigs for the price of one.  He returned home and told his story 
to his wife and to all the neighbors.  It wasn't    long till it spread all over 
the district, and everybody was sorry for the poor man.  He told his story to 
Daniel O'Connell, who had great sympathy for him.  "We'll get our own    back on 
that buyer later on," said O'Connell. "Are you willing to cut off the lobe of 
your right ear?" "I  am ," said he.      O'Connell cut of the lobe of the man's 
right ear, put it into an envelope, and took it home.  He asked the poor man to 
accompany him to Tralee next day to play a trick on the    buyer.      "He has a 
tobacco shop in Tralee," said O'Connell; "and we'll call into him.  After a 
while, you must take out your pipe and take a whiff or two from it.  I will then 
pass the remark    that you don't smoke very much, and you must  reply that you 
would smoke seven times as much, if you had the tobacco.  I will then say that 
I'll give you all the tobacco you    want."      The following day, they both 
went to Tralee and went into the tobacco shop.  The poor man pulled out his 
pipe, "reddened it, drew a few whiffs, and put it back into his pocket.     "You 
don't smoke very much," said O'Connell to him.      "I'd smoke seven times as 
much, if I had it," said the poor man.      "Well, I'll give you plenty of 
tobacco," said O'Connell. He ordered the buyer to give the poor man as much 
tobacco as would reach from his toe to the lobe of his right ear and    asked 
how much it would cost.      "Eight shillings" said the buyer. "That's agreed" 
said O'Connell . The buyer then began to measure the length from the man's toe 
to the lobe of his right ear, but when he    reached the ear, he found that the 
lobe was missing.  He pretended nothing.  "We have caught you!" said O'Connell. 
"That's not the lobe of his right ear. It is back in Carhan, if    you know 
where that place is.  So you must measure from his toe to Carhan!" The buyer was 
dumbfounded.  He could say nothing.  The O'Connell ordered him to pay the man    
for the black pig, and he would not insist on the tobacco at all.  The buyer 
paid  the money, and even something extra, and went off to his kitchen covered 
with shame. And no    wonder!-      


3. St. Mael Anfaidh and the Bird's Lament for St. Mo Lua      This was the Mael 
Anfaidh who saw a certain little bird wailing and sorrowing.  "O God"  said he, 
"what has happened there ? I will not eat food until it is explained to me."    
While he was there he saw an angel coming towards him. "Well now, priest," said 
the angel," let it not trouble you any more.  Mo Lua son of Ocha has died, and 
that is why the    living things bewail him, for he never killed a living thing, 
great nor small; not  more do men bewail him than the other living things do, 
and among them the little bird that you    see"      -Irish 9th-10th century     


 4. How celtchar Killed the "Brown Mouse"      ....And this is the second plague 
next, namely the Brown Mouse; that is , a puppy which a widow's son found in the 
hollow of a tree-trunk, and the widow reared it until it was    big, At last  
however it turned against the widow's sheep, and killed her cows and her son, 
and killed her herself; and went after that to the Great Pig's Glen. It would 
devastate a    farmstead in Ulster every night, and lie asleep every day.  "Rid 
us of it, Celtchar!"! said Conchobar. Celtchar went to the woods and brought 
away an alder log, and a whole was    bored through it as long as his arm, and 
he boiled it in fragrant herbs and honey and grease, until it was supple and 
tough.  Celtchar went to the cave where the Brown Mouse    used to sleep, and 
entered the cave early before the Brown Mouse should come after its ravages.    
It came with its snout lifted up to the scent of the trunk, and Celtchar pushed    
the trunk out through the cave towards it.  The hound took it in its jaws and  
set its teeth in it, and the  teeth stuck in the tough wood.  Celtchar  dragged 
the trunk towards him    and the hound dragged in the other direction; and 
Celtchar thrust his arm along inside the log, until he brought its  heart up 
through its mouth, so that he had it in his hand.     And he took its head with 
him....      -Irish ninth century      

5. The Blackbird's Song      The little bird has given a whistle from the tip of 
its bright yellow beak; the blackbird from the yellow-turfed bough sends forth 
its call over Loch Loigh      -Irish 8th -9th Century            

6. The Fox and the Eagle      There came a very bad year one-time. One day the 
fox was near the shore of the Lakes of Killarney, and he couldn't find a bird or 
anything else to eat. Then he spied three ducks    a bit out from the shore and 
thought to himself that if he could catch hold of them, he would have a fine 
meal.  There was some water parsnip with very large leaves growing by    the 
shore, and he swam out to it and cut off two big leaves of it with his teeth.  
He held one of them at each side of his mouth and swam toward the ducks.  The 
never felt    anything until he had taken one of them off with him.      Very 
satisfied with himself, he brought her ashore, laid her down, and decided to try 
and catch the other two as well- 'tis seldom they would be an offer!      He 
caught a second duck by the same trick and left her dead near the first.  Then 
out he swam for the third and brought her in.  But, if he did, there was no 
trace of the other two    where he had left them   .      "May god help me!" 
said he. "I have only the one by my day's work. What'll I do? I wonder who is 
playing tricks on me."      He looked all around but couldn't  see an enemy 
anywhere.  Then he looked toward the cliff that was nearby, and what did he spy 
but the nest of an eagle high up on it.      "No one ever took my two ducks but 
the eagle," said he.  "As good as I am at thieving, there's a bigger thief above 
my head."      He   didn't know how to get at the eagle.  Then he saw a fire 
smoldering not far away, where men had been working at a quarry a few days 
before.  They had a fire and it was still    burning slowly under the surface of 
the ground.  He dragged the duck to the fire and pulled her hither and thither 
through the embers.  Then he left her down on the grass and    hid.  The eagle 
must have been watching out for the third duck too,  for down he swooped   and 
snatched her up to his nest.  No sooner did the dead duck's body touch the dry    
nest than the nest caught fire---there were live embers stuck in the duck's 
feathers.  Down fell the blazing nest with the three dead ducks as well as the 
eagle's three young ones    inside it, so the fox had six birds for his supper.  
Didn't he get his own back well on the eagle?      -            

7. How Cobhthach Contrived his Brother's Death      Cobhtach the Lean of Bregia, 
son of Ughaine M/or, was king of Br/egia; but  Loeghaire Lorc, son of Ughaine, 
was king of Ireland.  He too was the son of Ughaine M/or.    Cobhtach was 
jealous of Loeghaire for the kingship of Ireland, so that a wasting sickness 
seized him, and his blood and his flesh withered from him, whence he was called 
"the    Lean of Bregia"; but he had not succeeded in killing Loeghaire.  
Loeghaire was summoned to him  after that, to give him his blessing before he 
died..."Come tomorrow," said    Cobhthach, "to build my tomb and set up my 
gravestone and conduct the wake for me, and perform my funeral lament, for I 
shall shortly die" "Good", said Loeghaire, "it shall    be done" "Well now, " 
said Cobhtach to his queen and his steward, "say that I am dead, without anyone 
else knowing, and let me be put in my chariot with a razor-knife in my    hand.  
My brother will come hastily to bewail me, and will throw himself on to me; 
perhaps he will get something form me. " That came true.  The chariot was 
brought out; his    brother came to bewail him, and threw himself down on him.  
He planted the knife in him at his midriff so that the point came out of him at 
the tip of his heart, and he killed    Loeghaire so...      -Irish Ninth Century     

 8. Two Women or twelve Men      There was a fox that had  three young ones, and 
when the time came to teach them how to fend for themselves, the old fox took 
them to a house.  There was great talk going on    inside the house.  He asked 
the first two young ones if they could tell him who was in the house.  The 
couldn't. Then he tried the third.      "Who is inside?" asked the old fox.      
"Either two women or twelve men," said the young one.      "You'll do well in 
the world," said the old fox.            

9. The Cat and the Dog      Long ago the dog used to be out in the wet and the 
cold, while the cat remained inside near the fire.      One day, when he was 
"drowned wet," the dog said to the cat, "You have a comfortable place, but you 
won't have it any longer.      I'm going to find out whether I have to be 
outside every wet day, while you are inside.      The man of the house overheard 
the argument between the two and thought that it would be right to settle the 
matter.  "Tomorrow," said he, "I  will start a race between ye five    miles 
from the house, and whichever of ye comes into the house first will have the 
right to stay inside from then on.  The other      can look after the place 
outside."      Next  day, the two got themselves ready for the race.  As they 
ran toward the house, the dog was a half -mile ahead of the cat.  Then he met a 
beggar man.  When the beggar    man saw the dog running toward him with his 
mouth open, he thought he was running to bite him.  He had a stick in his hand 
and he struck the dog as he ran by.  The dog was    hurt and started to bark at 
the beggar man and tried to bite him for satisfaction.      Meanwhile the cat 
ran toward the house, and she was licking herself near the fire and resting 
after the race when the dog arrived.      "Now," said the cat when the dog ran 
in, "the race is won, and I have the inside of the house for ever more. "-     

 10.St. Columba's nettle Broth      Once when he was going round the graveyard 
in Iona, he saw an old woman cutting nettles for broth for herself. What is the 
cause of this, poor woman?"  Said Colum Cille.    "Dear Father" said she, "I 
have one cow, and it has not yet borne a calf; I am waiting for it, and this is 
what has    served me for a long time." Colum Cille made up his mind then    
that nettle broth should be what should serve him mostly from then on for ever; 
saying,"Since they suffer this great hunger in expectation of the one uncertain 
cow, it would be    right for us that the hunger which we suffer should be 
great, waiting for God; because what we are expecting, the everlasting Kingdom, 
is better, and is certain." And he said to    his servant "Give me nettle broth 
every night," said he, "without butter or milk with it." "It shall be done", 
said the cook.  He hollowed the stick for stirring the broth and made it    into 
a tube, so that he used  to pour the milk into that tube and stir it into the 
broth.  Then the people of the church noticed that the priest looked well, and 
talked of it among    themselves.  This was told to Colum Cille, and then he 
said,"May your successors grumble for ever! Now!" said he to the servant, "what 
do you give me in the broth every    day?" "You yourself are witness," said the 
menial, "unless it comes out of the stick with which the broth is mixed, I know 
of nothing in it except broth alone." Then, the    explanation  was revealed to 
the priest, and he said. "Prosperity and good deeds to your successor for ever!" 
And this has come true.      -Irish 11th Century      return to the top      

11. The Man who Swallowed the Mouse      There was a man  in Rinnard one time.  
He felt very thirsty one evening after a day's  mowing; so he took a bowl of 
thick milk to drink.  The kitchen was half dark, as lamps and    lights were 
scarce at that time.  He swallowed the m ilk, and what was in it but a mouse!  
He never felt anything until he had swallowed the milk, mouse and all.      
Every day from that day  on, especially when he would lie down, he could feel 
the mouse running about and dancing inside of him.  At that time, the doctors 
were not as good    as they are now, and no doctor or anybody else could help 
him.  He told all of his friends about the mouse, for he knew that they wouldn't 
wish anything to be wrong with him.      One woman came to see how he was, and 
she said that the best thing to do was to put a piece of roasted bacon and a 
piece of mutton on a plate on both sides of his mouth    when he lay down in 
bed.  The cat should be kept in the room too.  When the mouse would smell the 
roasted meat, she would come out taste it.      The man tried this remedy for 
three nights.  On the third night didn't the mouse come out and start to eat the 
meat !  She hadn't eaten much before the cat killed her.  The man    lived to a 
great age after that happened. That story is as true as any I ever heard!-           

 12. The Hermit Blackbird      Ah, Blackbird, it is well for you where your nest 
is in the bushes; a hermit that clangs no bell, sweet, soft, and peaceful is 
your call.      -Irish 11-12th Century J            

13. The Recognition of Ulysses      ..."good people said the queen "who are you 
at all?" "I am Ulysses son of Laertes," said he.  "You are not the Ulysses whom 
I know" said she. "I am indeed," he said, "and I will    describe my 
credentials"; and then he told of their secrets and their talks together and 
their hidden thoughts.  "What has happened to your looks or your men," said she, 
"if    you are Ulysses?" " They are lost," he said "What was the last of your 
keepsakes that you left with me?" she said. "A golden brooch,"said he, "with a 
silver head; and I took    your brooch with me  when I went into the ship and it 
was then you turned back from me," said Ulysses. "That is true," she said "and 
if you were Ulysses you would ask after    your dog." "I had not thought it 
would be alive at all," he said.  "I made a broth of long life" said she, 
"because I saw that Ulysses loved it greatly.  And what sort of dog at all is    
that dog?" she said. "It has white sides and a light crimson back and a jet 
black belly and a green tail," said Ulysses. "That is the description of the 
dog." She said, "and no one    in the place dares give it its food except myself 
and you and the steward" "Bring the dog in" said he.  And four men went to fetch 
it and brought it in with them.  And when it    heard the sound of Ulysses' 
voice, it gave a tug at its chain so that it laid the four men flat all over the 
house behind it, and, jumped at Ulysses ' breast and licked his face.     When 
Ulysses' people saw that, they leaped towards him. Whoever could no get at his 
skin to kiss him covered his clothes with kisses...      -Irish 13th. Century     

 14.  The coming of Winter      I have news for you; the stag bells, winder 
snows, summer has gone.      Wind high and cold, the sun low, short its course, 
the sea running high.      Deep red the bracken, its shape is lost; the wild 
goose has raised its accustomed cry.      Cold has seized the bird's wings; 
season of ice, this is my news.      -Irish ninth century J            

15. The Smell of Money for the Smell of Food      There were six young fellows 
visiting a town one day.  One of them suggested that they go and eat some food.  
They had some drinks before that.  The went into an hotel, and    one of them 
ordered a meal for them all.  Each was to pay his own share.  A pound of meat 
was placed  in front of each of them.  One of the fellows told the woman to take 
away    his own meat, as he wasn't going to eat it at all.  "I won't," she said. 
"It was ordered and you can eat it or leave  it."      He ate a small bit of 
bread and took a cup of soup or tea, whichever it was.  Tea wasn't very 
plentiful at that time.  After the meal, each of the m went to pay his share, 
but this    fellow wanted to pay only fro the read and the soup or tea.  As they 
were about to leave, the woman snatched this fellow's hat at the doorway.  He 
asked her to give it back to    him, but it was no use.  They started to argue 
about it, but she remained firm.      Daniel O'Connell was walking along the 
street when he heard the argument and saw the young fellow bareheaded. He 
stopped and asked what was the trouble.  "This is the    trouble," said the 
fellow. "Five others and myself came to this woman to get a meal. One of us 
ordered a pound of meat for each.  When she put the meat in front of me, I said 
I    wouldn't have any and wouldn't eat it.  She told me to eat it or leave it.  
I didn't taste the meat at all; so I didn't want to pay for it."      "If this 
fellow didn't  eat the meat," said O'Connell, "tis strange that he should have 
to pay for  it.  Give him back his hat." "He didn't have to eat it," said the 
woman. "The smell    of  my meat filled his belly."      "You may be right in 
that," said O'Connell. "I have always herd that all a woman needs to do to get 
an excuse is to glance over her shoulder."      O'Connell took off his own hat, 
put his hand into his trousers' pocket, and  threw a fistful of silver into the 
hat.      "Come over here now," said he to the woman.  "Place you nose over this 
money and take your time smelling it.  Fill your belly well with it."      She 
was taken aback by that.      "Does that satisfy you?" asked O'Connell.      She 
was covered with shame and made  no reply.      "Give him  his hat quickly, said 
O' Connell. "You have got as good a bargain  as you gave." That ended the  
matter. The  fellow got  his hat and went  off.-            

16. Mo Chua's Riches      ...Mo Chua and Colum Cille were contemporaries.  And 
when Mo Chua (that is Mac Duach) was in a hermitage of the wilderness, he had no 
worldly wealth but a cock and a    mouse and a fly.. The work the cock used to 
do for him was to keep matins at midnight.  Now the mouse, it would not allow 
him to sleep more than five hours in a day and a    night; and when he wished to 
sleep longer, being tired from much cross vigil and prostration, the mouse would 
begin nibbling his ear and  so awoke him.  Then the fly, the work    it did was 
to walk along every line he read in his Psalter, and when he rested from singing 
his psalms the fly would stay on the line he had left until he returned again to 
read his    psalms. It happened soon after this that these three treasures died; 
and Mo Chua wrote a letter afterwards to Colum Cille when he was in Iona in 
Scotland, and complained of    the death of this flock.  Colum Cile wrote to 
him, and this is what he said; "Brother, said he, "you must not wonder at the 
death of the flock that has gone from you for    misfortune never comes but 
where there are riches"....      -Irish, Geoffrey Keating 1634      

17. The Sow and Her Banbh      An old sow and her young banbh were thieving one 
day, and a dog was set  to chase them.  They ran at their best with the dog at 
their heels.      "I won't go there any more, any more, any more," grunted the 
old sow.      "That's what you say always, always always," grunted the banbh.- 

18. Winter Cold      Cold,cold, chill tonight is wide Moylurg; the snow is 
higher than a mountain, the deer cannot get at its food.      Eternal cold! The 
storm has spread on every side; each sloping furrow is a river and every ford is 
a full mere.      Each full lake is a great sea and each mere is a full lake; 
horses cannot get across the ford of Ross, no more can two feet get there.      
The fishes of Ireland are roving, there is not a strand where the wave does not 
dash, there is not a town left in the land, not a bell is herd, no crane calls.      
The wolves of Cuan Wood do not get repose or sleep in the lair of wolves; the 
little wren does not find shelter for her nest on the slopes of Lon.      Woe to 
the company of little birds for the keen wind and the cold ice! The blackbird 
with its dusky black does not find a bank it would like, shelter for its side in 
the Woods of    Cuan.      Snug is our cauldron on its hook, restless the 
blackbird on Letir Cr/o; snow has crushed the wood here, it is difficult to 
climb up Benn B/o.      The Eagle of brown Glen Rye gets affliction from the 
bitter wind; great is its misery and its suffering, the ice will get into its 
beak.      It is foolish for you- take heed of it--to rise from quilt and 
feather bed; there is much ice on every ford; that is why I say "Cold!"      -
Irish, eleventh century J      

19.The Old Crow Teaches the Young Crow      There was an old crow long ago, and 
he made a nest.  After a time, only one of his brood remained with him.      One 
day the old crow took the young one out into the field to teach him how to fly.      
When the young crow had learned how to fly and was able to go to any part of 
Ireland, the old crow said, "I think that you are able to fly anywhere now and 
make your living    by yourself.  Before you go, I want to give you a little 
advice that will protect you from danger, as it has protected myself."      
"Tell it to me," said the young crow. "If you are ever in a potato field or 
cornfield and see a man coming toward you with something under his arm or in his 
hand, fly off    immediately, fearing he may have a gun and may shoot  you"  "I 
understand," said the young crow. "Another bit of advice to you," said the old 
crow. "If you see a man    bending down as he comes toward you in the field or 
on the road, fly off as fast as you can, for he will be picking up a stone to 
throw at you.  If he has nothing under his arm    and if he doesn't bend down, 
you're safe."  "That's all very well," said the young crow, "but what if he has 
a stone in his pocket?" "Off you go," said the old crow.  "You know    more than 
myself !"-     

 20. The Best and Worst Nail in the Ark      The shipwright who made the Ark 
left empty a place for a nail in it, because he was sure that he himself would 
not be taken into it.  When Noah went into the Ark with his    children, as the 
angel  had told him, Noah shut the windows of the Ark and raised his hand to 
bless it.  Now the Devil had come into the Ark along with him as he went into it    
and when Noah Blessed the Ark the Devil found no other way but the empty hole 
which the shipwright had left unclosed, and he went into it in the form of a 
snake;   and    because of the tightness of the hole he could not go out nor 
come back and he was like this until the Flood ebbed and that is the best and 
the worst nail that was in the Ark.      --Irish 16th century      return to the 
top                 

 21. The Uglier Foot      There was a tailor in Ballyvourney a long time ago.  
He had very big ankles, and the nickname the people had on him was "Tadhg of the 
Ankles" .  At  that time, tradesmen    traveled from house to house, and the 
people used to gather in for sport and fun with them.      One night Tadhg was 
sewing away, sitting on the table, and he had one of his legs stretched out from 
him. The woman of the house was sitting at the head of the table, between    
Tadhg and the fire.  She noticed Tadhg's big ankle.      "Upon my conscience, 
that's an ugly foot," said she.  One or two people laughed at this.      "Upon 
my conscience," said Tadhg, "there's   a still uglier foot than it in the 
house."      The woman of the house must have had badly shaped feet herself, and 
she thought that  Tadhg was hinting at her.      "There isn't an uglier foot 
than it in the whole world, " said she      "Would you lay a bet on that?" asked 
Tadhg "I would said she.  "I'll bet you a quart of whiskey that there's an 
uglier foot than it is in this house," said Tadhg. " I'll take that    bet," 
said the woman.      At that, Tadhg pulled his other foot from under him. "Now 
," said he, "which is the uglier, the first foot or the second one?" "Upon my 
word, the second is a lot uglier," said the    woman.  "Very well," said Tadhg.  
"Send out for a quart of whiskey for me." "I will, indeed," said the woman.      

22. The Wind      It has broken us, it has crushed us, it has drowned us, O King 
of the star-bright Kingdom; the wind has consumed us as twigs are consumed by 
crimson fire from Heaven      -Irish 8th-9th century      

23. The Blacksmith and the Horseman      There was a man one time, and he was 
very strong.  He was full of money, and one day he put about twenty pounds of it 
into a purse.      "I'll set out on my travels now," said he, "and I'll keep on 
going until I meet a man who is stronger than myself.  If I meet him, he'll get 
this purse."      So on he traveled, asking  everyone if they knew of any strong 
man, until at last he was directed to a certain smith.  When he reached the 
forge, he pulled up his horse outside    the window without dismounting. "Have 
you anything in there to 'redden' my pipe for me?"he shouted to the smith.  The 
smith picked up a live coal with the tongs, placed it on    the top of the great 
anvil, took up the anvil by its snout with one hand and reached it out through 
the window to the horseman.  The horseman took hold of the other end of the    
anvil, let the live coal slip into his pipe, and handed the anvil back to the 
smith.  The smith put the anvil back on the block.  "My horse needs a shoe.  
Have you any made?"    asked the horseman. "I have," replied the smith, picking 
out a horseshoe.  "This may do you," said he.      "Give it here to me," said 
the horseman.  When he got it he pulled it apart with his two hands.  "That shoe 
was no good," said he. The smith gave him another shoe, but he    broke it in 
two in the same way.  "That one was  no good either," said he.  "Give me 
another." "What's the use in giving them to you?" asked the smith. "I'll try one 
more," said    the horseman.  The smith passed another shoe to him.  "This will 
do," said the horseman.  The smith put the shoe on the horse, and when he had 
the last nail driven,"How much    do I owe you?" asked the horseman. "A half 
crown," said the smith.  When the horseman handed him a half      crown, the 
smith took it between his fingers and broke it in two. "That was no good," said 
the smith.  The horseman gave him a second half crown, and the smith broke it in 
two    again.  "That was  no good either. Give me another," said he. What's the 
use in  giving them to you?" asked the horseman. "I'll try one more," said the 
smith. "This will do,"said    he when he got the third half crown.      The 
horseman took the purse out of his pocket.  "Take this," said he. "You deserve 
it, for you are a stronger man than I am.  I had a good hold on the shoes to 
break them, but    you had hardly any hold on the half crowns that you broke"-      

24. The Four Seasons      Once upon a time Athairne came on a journey in the 
autumn to the house of his foster son Amhairghen ,and stayed the night there; 
and was about to leave the next day.  But    Amhairghen said to detain him:      
"A good season for staying is autumn; there is work then for everyone before the 
very short days.  Dappled fawns from along the hinds, the red clumps of the 
bracken shelter    them; stags run from knolls at the belling of the deer-herd.  
Sweet acorns in the wide woods, corn-stalks around the cornfields over the 
expanse of the brown earth.  There are    thorn-bushes and prickly brambles by 
the midst of the ruined court; the hard ground is covered with heavy fruit.   
Hazel-nuts of good crop f all from the huge old trees on    dikes."      Again 
he made to leave in the winder, but then Amhairghen said:      "In the black 
season of deep winter a storm of waves is roused along the expanse of the world.  
Sad are the birds of every meadow plain, except the ravens that feed on crimson    
blood, at the clamor of harsh winter; rough, black, dark, smoky.  Dogs are 
viscious in cracking bones ; the iron pot is put on the fire after the dark 
black day."      Again he made to leave in the spring, but the Amhairghen said:      
"Raw and cold is icy spring, cold will arise in the wind; the ducks of the 
watery pool have raised a cry, passionately wailful is the harsh-shrieking crane 
which the wolves hear in    the wilderness at the early rise of morning; birds 
awaken from meadows many are the wild creatures from which they flee out of the 
wood, out of the green grass."      Again he made to leave in the summer, and 
Amhairghen said, letting him do so:      "a good season is summer for long 
journeys; quiet is the tall fine wood which the whistle of the wind will not 
stir; green is the plumage of the sheltering wood; eddies swirl in    the 
stream; good is the warmth in the turf."      -Irish eleventh century      

25.Winter has Come      Winter has come with scarcity, lakes have flooded their 
sides, frost crumbles the leaves, the merry wave begins to mutter.      -Irish 
9th Century      

26. Se/an na Scuab      Long ago there was a poor man living in Buffickle, west 
in B/era.  He was married. He made his living by making brushes and selling them 
in Cork a few times a year.  After some    years, the mayor of Cork died, and 
three men were in for the position.  When the day of the election came, the 
three had the same votes.  They went to a magistrate to decide    between them, 
but he shook his head and said that he couldn't settle the mater.  He told them 
to go out next morning to a certain place at the edge of the city and to tell 
their    troubles to the first man who came along.  Whoever that man named would 
become mayor.  They did so.  The first man to come along was Se/an of the 
Brushes with a load of    brushes on his shoulder.   The three of them stopped 
him and told him their story.  He listened to them and said that it would be 
hard to bass over two of them and elect the    other.  So he told them that the 
best plan was to elect himself as mayor.  They did so That was that.  Se/an 's 
old wife was home when she heard that her husband was mayor of    Cork with a 
gold chain across his chest and two gray horses drawing him from place to place. 
She set out and never stopped until she reached Cork.  She looked about, and 
next    day she saw Se/an  being drawn by two gray horses, a Caroline hat on his 
head and a big gold chain hanging down from his neck.   She went over to him.      
"Stay out from me, old woman!" he shouted. "Are you my husband, S/ean?" she 
asked.  "I am," said he, "but keep away from me and don't pretend to  know me.  
I don't even    know myself!"      

27. Arran      Arran of the many stags, the sea reaches to its shoulder; island 
where companies were fed, ridge where blue spears are reddened.      Wanton deer 
upon its peaks, mellow blaeberries on its heaths, cold water in its streams nuts 
upon its brown oaks.      Hunting-dogs there, and hounds, blackberries and sloes 
of the dark blackthorn, dense thorn bushes in its woods, stags astray among its 
oak-groves      Gleaning of purple lichen on its rocks, grass without blemish on 
its slopes, a sheltering cloak over its crags;gambolling of fawns, trout 
leaping.      Smooth is its lowland, fat its swine, pleasant its fields, a tale 
you may believe; its nuts on the tips of his hazel-wood sailing  of long galleys 
past it.      It is delightful for them when fine weather comes, trout under the 
banks of its rivers, seagulls answer each other round its white cliff; 
delightful at all times is Arran.      -Irish 12th century.     

 28.The Hill of Howth      Delightful to be on the Hill of Howth, very sweet to 
be above its white sea; the perfect fertile hill, home of ships, the vine grown 
pleasant warlike peak.      The peak where Finn and the Fianna used to be, the 
peak where were drinking-horns and cups, the peak where bold O Duinn brought 
Gr/ainne one day in stress of pursuit.      The peak bright-knolled beyond all 
hills, with its hill-top round and green and rugged; the hill full of swordsmen, 
full of wild garlic and trees, the many coloured peak, full of    beasts, 
wooded.      The peak that is loveliest throughout the land of Ireland, the 
bright peak above the sea of gulls, it is a hard step for me to leave it lovely 
Hill of delightful Howth.      -Irish 14th Century J      

29.The Boorish Patron      I have heard that he does not give horses for songs 
of praise; he gives what is natural to him-a cow      -Irish 9th Century      

30. C/u Chulainnn and the Charioteer      ...They came thence on the next day 
across Ard, and C/uChulainn  let them go on before him.  At Tamhlachtae 
/Orl/aimh a little to the north of Disert L/ochaid he came upon the    
charioteer or /Orl/amh, son of Ailill and Medhbh, cutting wood there (or 
according to another source it was C/uChulainn's chariot shaft that had broken, 
and he had gone to cut    a shaft when he met /Orl/amh's charioteer). "The 
Ulstermen are behaving disgracefully, if it is they who are over there," said 
C/uChulainn, "While the army is at their heels,". He    went to the charioteer 
to stop him, for he thought  he was one of the Ulstermen. He saw the man cutting 
wood for a chariot shaft. "What  are you doing here? Said C/u Chulainn.    
"Cutting a chariot shaft," said the charioteer; "we  have broken our chariots in 
hunting that      wild doe C /uChulainn.   Help me," said the charioteer, "but  
consider whether you will collect the poles or trim them," "I shall trim them, 
indeed," said C/u Chulainn.  Then he    trimmed the holly poles between his 
fingers as the other watched, so that he stripped them smooth of bark and knots. 
"This cannot be your proper work that I gave you," said    the charioteer;he was 
terrified. "Who are you? Said C/u Chulainn.  "I am the charioteer of /Orl/amh 
son of Ailill and Medhbh.  And you? Said the charioteer. "C/u Chulainn is my    
name," said he.  "Woe to me then!" said the charioteer.  "Do not be afraid," 
said C/uChulainn,  "where is your master"? "He is on the mound over there," said 
the charioteer.    "Come along with me then," said C/uChulainn, "for I never 
kill charioteers," C/uChulainn went to /Orl/amh, and killed him, and cut off his 
head and brandished the head before    the army.  Then he put the head on the 
charioteer's back , and said, " Take that with you,"  said C/uChulainn, "and go 
to the camp so"....      -Irish,Ninth Century     ...    

5 Minute Irish Stories  Set 2 : 32-64      

32. The Ived Tree-Top      My little hut in Tuaim Inbhir, a mansion would not be 
more delightful, with its stars as ordained, with its sun, with its moon.      
It was Gob/an that made it (that its tale may be told you) my darling, God of 
Heaven, was the thacher who has thatched it.      A house in which rain does not 
fall, a place in which spears are not feared, as open as if in a garden without 
a fence around it.      -Irish 9th century            

33. The Druid's Candle      Saint Patrick came one night to a farmer's house, 
and there was a great candle shining in some place near, and three or four of 
the farmer's sons had got their death through it    for every one that would see 
it would get his death.  It was some evil thing that put it there, witchcraft 
that the Druids used to be doing at that time the way the Freemasons do it    in 
England to this day.  They do that, and they have a way of knowing each other if 
they would meet in a crowd.  But Saint Patrick went to where the candle was, and 
it did him    no harm and he put it out, and it was never lighted again in 
Ireland.                  

34. Cromwell's Bible      One time Cromwell was planning to put a wall or a 
paling all a round the coast of England.  He thought that was the only way to 
keep an enemy out.  He had a huge, black    Bible--it would take a horse to draw 
it!--and he had a servant always with him to take  care of the Bible.  One day, 
himself and the servant set out and they never stopped until    they reached the 
coast.  It w as a very warm day, and Cromwell was exhausted when he reached the 
sea.  Drowsiness and sleep were coming over him, and he lay down on the    
strand to close his eyes.  "Now,"  said he to the servant,  "I'll  stretch 
myself for a while, and  you're to take care of the Bible until I awake.   And 
as if your life depended on it,    you're not to open it.  If you do, it will be 
the worse for you!"  He lay down and it wasn't long till he was snoring for 
himself.  When the servant saw  that he was asleep,  "By    heavens, it won't be   
long now till I find out what power is in this Bible!"  He opened it and, if he 
did, it wasn't long  until a small, stout man jumped out on the strand before 
his    eyes, and then another and another until the strand was covered with 
them.  None of them was the size of your thumb, and they all were running around 
and shouting: "Give me    work! Give me work! Give me work!"  The poor servant 
was terrified,  I'd say, when he saw the huge crowd all over the strand, and his 
heart was full of fear that they  would    rouse Cromwell. "May the Devil take 
the pack of  ye!" he shouted. "Where would I get work for ye? Why don't ye start 
making ropes out of the sand?" They started making    ropes out of the sand, 
but, of course, if they were at it since, they couldn't  make any ropes of it.  
They had to give up in the end, and told the servant that it was beyond their    
powers. "If that's the way with ye," said the servant, "I can't help ye.  Off  
ye go in the name of the Devil to wherever ye came from, and don't be annoying 
me, yourselves and    your work!"  In they went, every single madman of  them      
into the Bible, and when the servant was rid of the last one of them, I promise 
you that it didn't take him long to close the Bible on them.  Nor did he open  
it again.  When    Cromwell had slept through, he s at up, took hold of the  
Bible  and opened it, but, if he was opening it since, no help would come out of 
the Bible to him.  "I'm afraid that you    opened this Bible, fellow, while I 
was asleep", said he to the servant. "And if you did, that leaves England 
without a paling!"                  

35. Goban, The Builder      The Goban was the master of sixteen trades.  There 
was no beating him ; he had got the gift.  He went one time to Quyin Abbey when 
it was building, looking for a job, and the    men were going to their dinner, 
and he had poor clothes, and they began to jibe at him and the foreman said, 
"Make now a cat-and-nine-tails while we are at our dinner,  if you    are any 
good." And he took the chisel  and cut in the rough in the stone, a cat with 
nine tails coming from it, and there it was complete when they came out  from 
their dinner.     There was no beating him. He learned no trade, but he was 
master of sixteen.   That is the way, a man that has the gift will get more out 
of his own brain than another will get    through learning.  There   is many   a 
man without learning will get the better of a college-bred man, and will have 
better words too.  Those that make inventions in these days    have the gift, 
such a man now as Edison, with all he has got out of electricity.                  

36 .The Swine of the Gods      A few years ago a friend of mine told me of 
something that happened to him when he was a young man and out drilling with 
some Connacht Fenians.  The were  but a car-full,    and drove along a hillside 
until they came to a quiet place. The left the car and went further up the hill 
with their rifles, and drilled for a while.  As they were coming down again    
they saw a very thin, long legged pig of the old Irish sort, and the pig began 
to follow them.  One of them cried out as a joke that it was a fairy pig, and 
they all began to run to    keep up the joke.  The pig ran too, and presently, 
how nobody knew, this mock terror became real terror, and they ran as for their 
lives.  When they got   to the car they made the    horse gallop as fast as 
possible, but the pig still followed.  Then one of them put up his rifle to 
fire, but when he looked along the barrel he could see nothing.  Presently they    
turned a corner and came to a village.  The told the people of the village what 
had happened, and the people of the village took pitchforks and spades and the 
like, and went    along the road with them to drive the pig away.  When they 
turned the corner they could  not find anything.                  

37. The Stuarts      As to the Stuarts, there are no songs about them and no 
praises in the West, whatever there may be in the South.   Why would there, and 
they running away and leaving the    country the way they did? And what good did 
they ever do it?  James the Second was a coward.  Why didn't he go into the 
thick of the battle like the Prince of Orange? He    stopped on a hill three 
miles away, and rode off  to Dublin, bringing the best of his troops with him.  
There was a lady walking in the street at Dublin when he got there, and he    
told her the battle was lost, and she said, "faith you made good haste; you made 
no delay on the road." So he said no more after that.  The people liked James 
well enough    before he ran; they didn't like him after that..           

 38. One Queer Experience      A good many believe that the fairies will spirit 
away children. They will carry off  a healthy child and leave instead a weazened 
little dwarf.  One day they played that trick on a    tailor, and he kept the 
dwarf several years and it didn't grow any, and was just the same shriveled 
little thing it was in the beginning.  Finally, the tailor made up his mid what 
the    matter was.  So he heated his goose red hot and held it over the dwarf, 
and said, "Now, get out of here-- I know you!"   But the dwarf never let on it 
noticed him; and the tailor    lowered the goose little by little till it almost 
touched the dwarf's face.  The n the dwarf spoke and said,  "Well I'll leave, 
but first you go to the door and look round the corner."     The man knew if he 
did that the dwarf would get the best of him and he said he would not.  Then the 
dwarf saw 'twas  no use, and it sprang out of the cradle and went roaring    and 
cackling up the chimney, and a good child lay there in its place.  I  had one 
queer experience myself.  It was the time of the Fenian troubles.  I was sitting 
up late--I suppose    it must have been after midnight --but I hadn't taken 
anything, and was as sober as I am this minute.  Well, it got to be very late, 
as I said, and by and by, I heard strange noises,    hundreds of them, and they 
were  dragging dead bodies and all that.  I could hear their breathing, and I 
could hear their clothing rub along against the wall. Then the ceiling and    
the sides of the room I was in began to wave.  I took a candle and went out in 
the hall, and there was nothing there, doors all fastened, everything all right. 
Now, what do you    make out of that? I never have been able to account for it  
myself.                 

 39.Shortening the Road      Himself and his son were walking the road together 
one day, and the Goban said to the son, "Shorten the road for me." So the son 
began to walk fast, thinking that would do it,    but the Goban sent him back 
home when he didn't understand what to do.  The next day they were walking, and 
the Goban said again to shorten the road for him, and this time    he began to 
run, and the Goban sent him home again.  When he went in and told the wife he 
was sent home the second time, she began to think, and she said, "When he bids    
you shorten the road, it is that he wants you to be telling him  stories." For 
that is what the Goban meant, but it took the daughter-in-law to understand it.  
And it is what I was    saying to the other woman, that if one of ourselves w as 
making a journey, if we had another along with us, it would not seem to be one 
half as long as if we wouldn't be alone.     And if this is so with us, it is 
much more with a stranger, and so I went up the hill with you to shorten the 
road, telling you that story.            

40. The Heather Beer      People say that the Danes were able to make the 
sweetest of beer from the tops of the heather.  But the Irish people could not 
get the secret of it from them, although they tried    their best.      When 
they were routing the Danes out of Ireland, they killed most of them until there 
were only two left alive, a father and son.  The Irish made up their minds to 
try to get the    secret of the beer from these two , or it would be lost for 
ever.   So they said to the pair that were left that whoever of them would give 
up the secret would be let go free.      Then the father spoke, and he said,      
"If that's the way things are and if only one of us will be let go alive, let ye 
kill the boy, and I will tell you how my people make the beer from the heather."      
The son was put to death, and then the father was asked to tell the secret.      
"Well," said he, " I asked ye to kill the boy first, because I was afraid that 
ye would get the secret out of him, if I died before him.  Since he's dead now, 
I want to tell ye  that ye    won't get from me the secret ye at trying so hard 
to get.   Ye'll never get it from me.  Do what ye wish with me."      The father 
was put to death, and the secret was never found since.--OS 46            

41. Another Story      Seumas Salach, Dirty James, it is he brought all down.  
At the time of the battle there was one of his men said," I have my eye cocked, 
and all the nations will be done away    with," and he pointing his cannon. 
"Oh!" said James, "Don't make a widow of my daughter." If he didn't say that, 
the English would have been beat.  It was a very poor thing    for him to do.  I 
used to hear them singing "The White Cockade" through the country--"King James 
was beaten and all his well-wishers; my grief, my boy, that went with them!"    
But I don't think their people had ever much opinion of the Stuarts; but in 
those days they were all prone to versify.  But the Famine did away with all 
that.  Sure King James ran    all the way from Boyne to Dublin after the battle.  
There was a verse made about him.  "It was the coming of King James that struck 
down Ireland, With his one shoe Irish and    his one shoe English, He that 
wouldn't strike a blow and that wouldn't make a peace, he has left trouble for 
ever on the Gael."                        

42. The Baptism of  Conor MacNessa      Jong Ago people were few, and the 
priests used to travel about saying Mass and spending a night her and there.   
Some of them arrived at a house and they asked the boy to    go out and cut some 
rushes with a sickle to make a bed.  The boy went out to a clump of rushes, and 
a voice spoke to him from out the clump:      "Don't put me out of my  
dwelling."      The boy went away from the clump and told the priests in the 
house what had happened.  "Didn't you bring the rushes?"they asked. "No Father," 
and he to one of them. "If I    told you what I have heard, you wouldn't go 
there  either." "Come along and show me where this was said."  They went out to 
the clump.  The priest put on his stole and read    something,  and a voice 
spoke  from the clump.  "Who are you?" asked the priest. "I am Conor of Ulster," 
said the voice.  "How long have you been here?" "Since the Savior w    as 
crucified," said the voice. "And what put you here?" asked the priest. "It 
happened this way.  I was in a battle, and a piece of something entered my skull    
When I heard    later on that the savior was crucified, frenzy came of my skull, 
and I died.  The Savior then put my soul into my skull until the Day of 
Judgment." "I'll baptize you now, and you    will go to Heaven," said the 
priest. "Must I die a second time?" asked the voice.  "You must." "Oh, Father, 
I'd rather stay in my skull until the Day of Judgment," said the voice      When 
the priest heard these words, tears fell from his eyes down on the clump, and 
Conor of Ulster immediately rose up from it like an angel. "I'm on my way  to 
Heaven now,    Father!" said he. "Your tears have baptized me!".----       To 
the top of this section           

 43. The Battle of Clontarf      Clontarf was on the head of a game of chess. 
The generals of the Danes were beaten at it, and they were vexed; and Cennedigh 
was killed on a hill near Fermoy.  He put the Holy    Gospels in his breast as a 
protection, but he was struck through them with a reeking dagger.  It was 
Brodar, that he Brodericks are descended from, that put a dagger through    
Brian's heart, and he attending to his prayers.  What the Danes left in Ireland 
were hens and weasels.  And when the crock crows in the morning the country 
people will always    say "It is for Denmark they are crowing. Crowing they are 
to be back in Denmark."                  

44. A Pig on the Road from Gort      There was a man coming along the road from 
Gort to Garryland one night, and he had a drop taken ,and before him on the road 
he saw a pig walking.  And having a drop in, he    gave a shout and made a kick 
at it and bid it get out of that.  And from the time he got home, his arm had 
swelled from the shoulder to be as big as a bag, and he couldn't use his    hand 
with the pain in it.   And  his wife  brought him after a few days to a woman 
that used to do cures at Rahasane.  And on the road all she could do would 
hardly keep him    from lying down to sleep on the grass.  And when they got to 
the woman, she knew all that happened, and says she:"It's well for you that your 
wife didn't let you  fall asleep on    the grass, for if you had done that but 
for an instant, you'd be a gone man."                        

45. The Queen of Breffny      Devorgilla was a red-haired woman, and it was she 
put the great curse on Ireland, bringing in the English through MacMurrough, 
that she went from O'Rourke.  It was to Henry    the Second MacMurrough went, 
and he sent Strongbow, and they stopped in Ireland ever since.  But who knows 
but another race might be worse, such as the Spaniards that    were scattered 
along the whole coast of Connacht at the time of the Armada.  And the  laws are 
good enough.  I heard it said the  English will be dug out of their graves one      
day for the sake of their law.  As to Devorgilla,she was not brought away by 
force, she went to MacMurrough herself.  For there are men  in the world that 
have a coaxing way,    and sometimes women are weak.                        

46. Patrick Sarsfiled      Sarsfield was a great general the time he turned the 
shoes on his horse.  The English it was were pursuing him, and he got off and  
changed the shoes the way when they saw    the tracks they  would think he went 
another road.   That was a great plan.  He got to Limerick then, and he killed 
thousands of the English.  He was a great general.                 

 47. In Defense of Women      Woe to him who speaks ill of women! It is not 
right to abuse them. They have not deserved, that I know, all the blame they 
have always had.      Sweet are their words, exquisite their voice, that sex for 
which my love is great; woe to him who does not scruple to revile them, woe to 
him who speaks ill of women!      They do no murder nor treachery, nor any grim 
or hateful deed, they do no sacrilege to church nor bell; woe to him who speaks 
ill of women!      Certain it is, there has never been born bishop nor king nor 
great prophet without fault, but from a woman; woe to him who speaks ill of 
women!      They are thrall to their own hearts, they love a man slender and 
sound-it would be long before they would dislike him. Woe to him who speaks ill 
of women!      An old fat greybeard, they do not desire a tryst with him-- 
dearer to them is a young lad, though poor.  Woe to him who speaks ill of women!      
--Irish, Earl Gerald Fitzgerald, 14th Century, J                  

48. King Henry VIII      Henry the Eighth was crying and roaring and leaping out 
of the bed for three days and nights before his death.  And he died cursing his 
children, and he that had eight millions    when he came to the Throne, coining 
leather money at the end.            

49. Sarsfield Surrenders and Rory takes to the Hills      My uncle Donal used to 
tell me how his grandfather often told him that when Limerick at last 
surrendered to William of Orange and there looked nothing more to fight for, and    
that the French flag was set on one hill and William's flag on another for 
choice of the Irish fighters as they marched out; and when these thronged solid 
to the French, with    brave Patrick Sarsfield at their head, one rough fellow, 
Rory, who in the fighting had drawn everyone's admiration, so reckless he was,--
this Rory struck away on his own.  A      captain of Sarsfield's headed for King 
Louis's flag, seeing Rory strike off by himself, called, "Rory, aren't you 
coming with us to France?" "No!" Rory answered , shortly    "You're surely not 
going to William?" "No,no!" said Rory.  "In the Lord's name, are you making no 
choice?" "I'm choosing Ireland." "You're mad.  Ireland's lost, and there isn't    
a solitary soul left to fight for her." "You're standing on Ireland," Rory said, 
like that. "And I'm to fight for her."  "But  you haven't even a handful behind 
you, and England has    a hundred thousand." "I 'll have be hind me an army more 
plentiful," said Rory, "than the hairs on your head."  "What do you mean?"  
"Every angel God can spare He will strap    a sword on and send to my helping--
and England's hundred thousand will melt like the mists before us."  "When? " 
asked the captain with a chuckle. "In God's own good time.     Maybe in a year, 
maybe five hundred years; but, be it soon or be it long. Rory wins." And his gun 
on his shoulder, Rory turned away and headed to the hills.            

50. Magical Theft      Well, these women were just ordinary country women like 
you still see around except that they were able to work this magic, whatever way 
they did it.  If you had cows, they    could take the "profit" of them from you.   
The milk you got from the cows would be useless, insipid and lifeless, and they 
would have the butter for themselves.  There was a    man living near here one 
time and he had eight cows.  Day in day out, he used to see this hare running 
about, in and out among the cows in his fields.  He didn't know what the    hare 
was doing there, but he did notice that he was making nothing from the milk his 
cows were giving-- it was just like water.  He had a dog, a pure black hound, 
and they say    that a hound without a speck of white in  it that has a rod of 
the rowan tree tied around its neck is the only animal that can catch a hare 
like that.  So one day when he saw the    hare among the cows, he loosed the 
hound after her.  Hound and hare coursed the fields back and forward and finally 
the hare made a jump over a high stone wall and the    hound caught her by the 
leg and broke it.  The  man knew that the hound had caught the hare, and when he 
came up to where they were what did he find there only an old hag    who lived 
in the locality sitting by the wall with the blood pouring out of her.  The hag 
was brought home and some time after that she died and the man went to the wake.  
The    were going round with the whiskey at the hag's wake and he was offered a 
glass too.  "Here, drink a glass for the old woman." they said.  Indeed, I 
won't" said he  "for I got my    fill of her".  May morning was a terrible time 
for working charms of all kinds but especially for stealing the "profit" of your 
milk.  One May morning this man was coming up    through Altnapaste and he saw 
this hag, back and forward through a field, pulling an iron chain  after her and 
this is what she was saying: "Come all to me, come all to me." The    man was 
riding on horseback on the road and watching all this and he shouts: "The half 
of it for  me." That was all there was to that but when he got home he noticed 
that his    cows had an awful lot of milk.  All the vessels he had about the 
house were filled to overflowing with milk.  He told the priest about it and 
eventually things were  put right    again. He had got half of what the old hag 
had been asking for herself.                  

51. A worse than Cromwell      Cromwell was very bad but the drink is worse.  
For a good many that Cromwell killed should go to heaven, but those that are 
drunk never see heaven.  And as to drink, a man    that takes the first glass is 
as quiet and as merry as a pet lamb; and after the second glass he is as knacky 
as a monkey; and after the third glass he is as ready for battle as a    lion; 
and after the fourth glass he is like as swine  as he is. "I am thirsty" Tha 
Tort Orm," that was one of our Lord's seven words on the Cross, where he was 
dry.  And a man far    off would have  given him drink; but there was a drunkard 
at the foot of the Cross, and he prevented him.     

 52. Willie Brennan      Brennan was born in Kilmurry, near Kilworth.  He listed 
in the army and then he deserted out of it.  They were hunting him around the 
country day and night.  One day outside    at Leary's Bridge, Brennan met the 
Pedlar Bawn.  I  never heard him called by another name.  The Pedlar was 
traveling for a firm in Cork, going about the country selling different    kinds 
of things.  Brennan put the blunderbuss up to him and made him hand out what he 
had watch and chain and all.  Then the Pedlar asked him to give hi m some token 
to    show to the people of the firm in Cork that he had met him.  "Tell them 
that you met Brennan the Highwayman." "Give me some token that you met me, or 
I'll be put to jail," said    the Pedlar.  "What have I to do for you?" asked 
Brennan. "Fire a shot through this side of my old coat," said the Pedlar.  He 
did.  "Fire another through this side now," said the    Pedlar.  So he did.  
"Here! Said the Pedlar. "Fire another through my old hat." Brennan did.  "Come!" 
said the Pedlar. "Fire another through my old cravat."      "I have no more 
ammunition," said Brenna. The Pedlar then drew a pistol, whenever he had it  
hid. "Come! Said he. "Deliver!" Brennan had to deliver, quick and lively too!     
"You're a smarter man than me," said he. "All I ever went through, I robbed 
army, men and lords, and you beat me.  Will you make a comrade for me?"  The 
Pedlar only flung his    pack over the ditch.  "I will," said he.  "I'll stand a 
loyal comrade until my dying day." And so he was, a loyal comrade.      "We'll 
go along to County Tipperary, " said Brennan.  "Tis a wealthy county.  There's 
agents and landlords and there going around the country gathering the rent in 
the    houses, and we'll whip them going back in the evening."  So the two of 
them went along to the County Tipperary.  Brennan went in to a widow there one 
morning.  The poor    woman was crying and lamenting.  He asked her what was the 
matter with her.  "What good is it for me to tell you, my good man? Said she.  
She didn't know  but he was a    tramp. "How do you know? " Said he.  "The agent 
is coming here by and by, and I haven't a halfpenny to give him for the rent, 
"said she. "Well, what would you say to the man    who'd give it to you?" s aid 
Brennan.  He asked her how much it was, and she told him --five or six pounds, I 
suppose.  He counted it out to her. "Tell me now," said he, "the    road he goes 
home in the evening." She told him the road he'd take after giving the day 
gathering around.  He made her go down on her knew then and swear to God and to 
him    that she would never tell anyone that she saw him, or mention that anyone 
gave her the money. Himself and the Pedlar met the agent going home with the 
money and whipped    the whole lot that he had gathered that day .  Brennan is 
buried over in Kilcrumper near the old church wall.            To the top of 
this section             

53 . A son of the Dean      There was a son of Dean Swift was a great rider, and 
the Dean made him a bet of two hundred pounds that he would not leap over the 
drop at the edge of the cliffs of Moher,    where there is a wall close to the 
brink.  But the son made a leap  sideways over the wall, that was standing 
sideways the same as that press, and so he was over the drop in the    leap,  
but he landed again on the ground.  He won the two hundred pounds doing that.  
There was another son of the Dean that was called Fireball, and that used to put 
his own    son standing out in the front of the house and an egg on his head, 
and he would fire his gun and put the two halves of the egg to different sides.  
Hadn't the son a great nerve    to stand and let him do that?  But fireball said 
he would shoot him if he did not.                        

54. Saint Kevin      One day in spring before the blossoms were on the trees, a 
young man grievously afflicted with the falling sickness fancied that an apple 
would cure him, and the dickens an    apple tree at all was about the place.  
But what mattered that to the Saint! He ordered a score of fine yellow pippins 
to grow upon a willow, and  the boy gathered and ate and    was cured.      The 
Saint was one day going up Derrybawn,  and he meets a woman that carried five 
loaves in her apron.      "What have ye there, good woman?" says the Saint.   "I 
have five stones" says she "If they are stones," says he, "I pray that they may 
be bread. And if they are bread," says    he, "I pray that they may be stones." 
So, with that, the woman lets them fall, and sure enough, stones they were, and 
are to this day.      The Saint managed to get from King O' Toole a grant of the 
land upon which he built his churches.  The king was old and weak in himself, 
and took a mighty liking to a goose, a    live goose,. And in course of time the 
goose was  like the master , old and weak.  So O'Toole sent for his Holiness. 
And his Holiness went to see what would the pagan--for    King O'Toole was a 
heathen--want with him.  "God save ye," says the Saint.  "God save ye kindly," 
says the king. "A better answer than I expected," says the Saint.  "Will ye    
make my goose young?" says the king. "What'll ye give me? Says the Saint. 
"What'll ye ask? Says the king.  "All I'll ask will be as much of the valley as 
he'll fly over." Says    the Saint. "Done," says the king.      So with that 
Saint Kevin stoops down, takes up the goose, and flings him up, and away he goes 
over the lake and  all round the Glen, which in course was the Saint's 
hereditary    property  from that day  out.                        

55 . The Man Who Lost his Shadow      A man named Brasil bought an island from a 
Danish chieftain, but the chieftain had to go back to Lochlainn before the 
bargain was completed.  Brasil had to travel to Lochlainn    after him to get 
the papers from him.  He spent a long time looking for him here and there, until 
at last he was directed to the chieftain's castle.  Brasil went in and found the    
chieftain sitting at a table which was covered with all kinds of documents.  The 
chieftain welcomed him and gave him food and drink.  Brasil then told him that 
he had come from    Ireland to get the papers dealing with the agreement. " I 
have them here," said the chieftain.  "But maybe you would like to stay here in 
this place with us.  I promise that you will    be well off--better off than you 
would be at home."      "Oh, I wouldn't stay at any price, " said Brasil. "Give 
me the papers and let me be off."      "Very well," said the chieftain.  "But 
seeing that you won't   stay with us, I'll have to keep your shadow instead of 
yourself".      "But I can't leave that behind," said poor Brasil.  "I couldn't 
live without it."      The Dane gave him the papers.  Brasil snatched them from 
him and rushed out the door like a shot.  But when he was passing the window, 
the sun cast his shadow in through    the window.  The Dane put a big book on 
top of the shadow and held it there.      It is said that nobody named Brasil 
has had a shadow ever since.-            

56 . Saint Finbar      Long long ago, before Saint Finbar came to Gougane, the 
little lake was between the mountains, and on a calm day you would like to be 
looking at it, the water was so still.  At    that time there was a small house 
there and a widow and her son lived in it.  They had one cow, and every day the 
son would mind the cow while his mother was busy around    the house.      One 
day when he went down to the lake, what did he see, instead of the water, but an 
ugly serpent that was almost as big as one of the hills around.  The boy was 
terrified and    he ran home.  They didn't know from him where the serpent had 
come or why she came, so there was great excitement around the place.  The 
serpent remained there and came    out every day and  swept off anything she 
met.  At last the people of the district were ruined, and were afraid to go 
outside their does.      Saint Finbar came to the district and the people  
begged him to do something for them.  They had no great faith in the saint for 
the parish priest had spent his time trying to    banish the serpent.  That was 
good and it wasn't bad.      One night when the great world was asleep, and the 
serpent along with them, Saint Finbar went out with tow of his friars.  He never  
halted until he reached the lake.  He walked    around it three times , praying.  
When he reached the mouth of the lake the third time, he stopped, took out a 
small bottle of  holy water that he had, and sprinkled it three times    on the 
serpent.  The serpent shook herself and let out a roar that shook the hills 
round about.  Then she moved from where she was and tore and devoured the land 
until she    came to where Lough Loo is today.  She made a bed there for 
herself.  Next morning she moved on again and never stopped till she reached 
Cork Harbor.  There she entered the    sea.      Water has filled the track she 
left behind her , and that's the River Lee today.  The people of the place were 
so grateful to Saint Finbar that they drew stones and earth and made    a small 
island in the middle of the lake.  There he built a monastery.                

 57. Emmet's Dress      It was a pity to hang so fine a man.  I was looking at 
his picture a while ago, and his dress, very nice, knee breeches and a collar 
turned over, they dressed very nice in those    days.  But now you'll see a man 
having a thing stiff the same as a washboard in front of him ,and one button in 
it, and you wouldn't know has he a soutane under it or anything    at all.  It 
is likely the linen Emmet was wearing was made at home, for I remember the days 
when every house had flax sowed in the garden.  There was a man going to be 
hanged    in Galway one time and his wife went to see him the night before, and 
all s he said was. "Where will I sow the flax this year?"  He was vexed at that 
and he  said, "Is that all you    are come to say to  me?" "Is it that you are 
in a sulk because you are going to be hanged in the morning?" says the wife.  
That was all she said.            

58. Happy for You, Blind Man!      Happy for you, blind man, who see nothing of 
women!      Ah, if you saw what I see you would be sick even as I am .      
Would God I had been blind before I saw her curling hair, her white flanked 
splendid snowy body; ah, my life is distressful to me.      I pitied blind men 
until my peril grew beyond all sorrow, I have changed my pity, though pitiful, 
to envy; I am ensnared by the maid of the curling locks.      Alas for him who 
has seen her, and alas for him who does not see her every day; alas for those 
trapped in her love, and alas for those who are set free!      Alas for him who 
goes to meet her, and alas for him who does not meet her always, alas for him 
who was with her, and alas for him who is not with her!      -Irish, Uilliam 
Ruadh; 16th Century            

59.The Binding      O'Connell was a great man, wide big arms he had.  It was he 
left us the cheap tea; to cheapen it he did, that was at  that time a shilling 
for one bare ounce. His heart is in Rome    and his body in Glasnevin.  A lovely 
man, he would put you on your guard; he was for the country, he was for all 
Ireland.            

60. The Best Road to Heaven      There was a woman I knew was very charitable to 
the poor; and she'd give them the full of her apron of bread, or of potatoes or 
anything she had.  And she was only lately    married.  And one day, a poor 
woman came to the door with her children and she brought them to the fire, and 
warned them and gave them a drink of milk; and she sent out to    the barn for a 
bag of potatoes for them.  And the husband came in, and he said:"Kitty, if you 
go on this way, you won't leave much for ourselves." And she said: "He that gave    
us what we have, can give us more."   And the next day when they went out to the 
barn, it was full of potatoes--more than were ever in it before.  And when she 
was dying, and    her children about her, the priest  said to her:"Mrs. 
Gallagher, it's in Heaven you'll be at twelve o'clock tomorrow.                  

61.The Black Art      A man and his wife were living in Malinmore long ago, and 
they had an only daughter, a young girl.  As with every couple of that kind, the 
daughter was the apple of their eye.      One day the father was cutting turf at 
Rossmore.  When dinnertime came, the mother  sent the girl with food, consisting 
of some broth in a wooden dish, to her father.  There    were only wooden 
vessels at that time.  The father sat down at the edge of the bog to take his 
meal.  It was a fine day, and the two of them were  looking out over the s ea.  
It    wasn't long until a large sailing ship came into view, making for the 
mouth of the river.      "Isn't that a fine large ship?" said the little girl to 
her father.  "It is, indeed! " said he. "I wonder--where is she going to?" said 
the girl.  "I'd say she was making for Killybegs."    "Well, if I wished so now, 
she would never reach there, big and all as she is," said the girl.  "Shut up, 
you little fool!" said the father.  "What could you do to a ship that's out on    
the sea? Have 50.sense in what you say." The girl made no reply and waited until 
her father had finished his meal.  Then she took the dish to wash it        in 
the pool of water in    the bog.  When she had done that, she started to play 
tricks with he dish in the water.  The father was lighting his pipe and took no 
notice of what she was doing;  he thought     she was only washing the vessel.  
Soon she spoke to him.  "Look now, father, and see what I can do with that 
ship," said she.  The father looked out to sea and saw that ship,    which 
should have been making for the river mouth, was coming straight for the cliffs 
below them.    "Who taught  you how to do that?"  he asked.  "My mother," said 
she      "And what are you going to do to the ship when you get her near the 
shore?" he asked.      "As  soon as I get her near enough to the rocks, I can 
turn this dish upside down and the same will happen to the ship on the sea," 
said she.  "I see," said the father. "And you    tell me that it was your mother 
who taught you this?"  "She did, indeed," said the girl.      At any rate, the  
girl let the ship go free, and it floated out to the open sea again.  The little 
girl took the dish home, and her father passed no remark on whether what she had    
learned from her mother as good or bad.  That night, when he returned from the 
bog, he cleaned and washed himself well and put on his best  suit of clothes.  
He left the house    that night, and wherever he went, his wife and daughter 
never saw him again for the rest of their lives.  He was angry to learn that he 
had married a woman who practiced the    black art.  Had she not taught some of 
it to her daughter, he  would never have found out.  But the girl had let the 
cat out of the bag, and that left  her without seeing her father    any more.  
Wasn't it strange, whatever place he went to, that he was never seen again?            

62.The Terry Alts      The Terry Alts were a bad class; everything you had 
they'd  take from you.  It was against herding they began to get the land, the 
same as at the present time.  And women    they would take; a man  maybe that 
hadn't a perch of land would go to a rich farmer's house  and bring away his 
daughter.  And  I, supposing, to have some spite against you,    I'd gather a 
mob and do every bad thing to destroy you.  That is the way they were, a bad 
class and doing bad deeds.  One of hem went to confession to the priest, that 
asked    him how many crimes did he do, and he said, "I was at thirteen killings 
between Clare and Connacht." He met with a dreadful death.  His tongue came four 
inches out, that    neither priest nor doctor could put it in.       To the top 
of this section      

63.Finn's Generosity      If the brown leaves were gold that the wood lets fall, 
if the white wave were silver, Finn would have given it all away.      -Irish 
12th Century                 

 64. Parnell      Parnell was a very good man, and a just man, and if he had 
lived to now, Ireland would be different to what it is.  The only thing ever 
could be said against him was the influence    he had with that woman.  And how 
do we know but that was a thing appointed for him by God?  Parnell had a back to 
him, but O'Connell stood alone.  He fought a  good war in    the House of 
Commons.  Parnell did a great deal, getting the land.  He wouldn't like at all 
that you'd wrong the poor.  I often heard he didn't die at all--it was very 
quick for him    to go.  I often wondered there were no people smart enough to 
dig up the coffin and to see what is in it, at night they  could do that.  No 
one knows in what soil Robert Emmet    was buried, but he was made an end of 
sure enough. Parnell went through Gort one day, and he called it the fag-end of 
Ireland, just as Lady Morgan called the North the Athens    of Ireland.              
...    5 Minute Irish Stories  Set 3:  65-94        

65. The Cow that Ate the Piper      There were three spalpeens coming home to 
Kerry from Limerick one time after working there . On their way, they met a 
piper on the road.  "I'll go along with ye," said the piper.    "All right," 
they said.  The night was very cold, freezing hard, and they were going to 
perish. They saw a dead man on the road with a new pair of shoes on his feet.      
"By heavens! " said the piper. "I haven't a stitch of shoes on me.  Give me that 
spade to see can I cut off his legs."      "Twas the only way he could take off 
the shoes.  They were held on by the frost.  So he took hold of the spade and 
cut off the two feet at the ankles.  He took them along with    him.  They got 
lodgings at a house where three cows were tied in the kitchen. "Keep away from 
that gray cow," said the servant girl, "or we'll eat your coats.  Keep out from    
her.."      They all went to sleep.  The three spalpeens and the piper stretched 
down near the fire.  The piper heated the shoes and the dead man's feet at the 
fire and got the shoes off.  He    put on the shoes and threw the      feet near 
the gray cow's head.  Early next morning he left the house  wearing his new pair 
of shoes.  When the servant girl got up, she looked at the door.  It was bolted, 
and the    three spalpeens were asleep near the fire.      "My God!" she cried. 
"There were four of ye last night, and now there are only three.  Where did the 
other man go?" "We don't know," they said. "How would we know where    he went?"      
She went to the gray cow's head and fond the two  feet. "Oh my! She cried.  "He 
was eaten by her." She called the man of the house ."The gray cow has eaten one 
of the men,"    said she. "What's that you're saying?" asked the farmer. "I'm 
telling the truth " she said "There's only his feet left. The rest of him is      
eaten".  The farmer got up. "There were four of ye   there last night, men," 
said he. "There were," said one of the spalpeens, "and our comrade has been 
eaten by the cow."    "Don't cause any trouble about it," said the farmer. 
"Here's five pounds for ye. Eat your breakfast and be off. Don't say a word." 
They left when they had the breakfast eaten.    And they met the piper some 
distance from the house, and he dancing on the road. Such a thing could happen!-            
return to the top           

 66.A prophecy      It is likely there will be a war at the end of the two 
thousand, that was always foretold.  And I hear the English are making ships 
that will drive the same as diving ducks under    the  water.  But as to the 
Irish Americans, they would sweep the entire  world; and England is afraid of 
America, it being a neighbor.           

 67. She's the White Flower of the Blackberry      She's the white flower of the 
blackberry, she's the sweet flower of the rasbery, she's the best herb in 
excellence for the sight of the eyes.      She's my pulse, she's my secret, 
she's the scented flower of the apple, she's summer in the cold time between 
Christmas and Easter.      -Irish, folksong before 1789 J            

68. The English Law      A man at Duras was telling me that the English will not 
be put down till the time the sea will get dry, and it is as well, for without 
their law in the country the Irish would have one    another ate and killed.  
But the Germans are like starlings going through the air, and the prophecy of 
Columcille is coming true that the time would come when an old man would    be 
turned three times in the bed to know could he show garrison duties in the 
barracks  and to know  could he go to the war when the  best soldiers would be 
gone.  In the    Crimea it was in a song that the Russians were coming on ahead, 
and in no dread, but that the English would put them to fear in no time.           

 69. The Man from Kilmacoliver      Now the Cross at Ahenny is in the graveyard, 
and a man from Kilmacoliver was passing by one day (and he was so mean that his 
soul was as narrow as a knitting needle, and if    you had a cold in the head he 
would grudge it to you) --well, when he saw the cross he said to himself:"That 
would make a grand hone for my scythe, if I sawed off an arm of it."    He went 
home and got his saw and he began to saw it off, and he looked up and saw his 
house on the opposite hill at Kilmacoliver was on fire, and he dropped his saw 
and ran    to save his house, and when he got there it was no fire, only the 
setting sun shining on the windows.  Still and all, he would not be warned, and 
he called his son, who was a    young lad, to go back with him. And the young 
lad was to carry back the arm of the Cross when it was sawed off.  And they went 
back, and he picked up the saw, and began to    saw again in the same notch, and 
as he sawed, drops of blood f ell from the notch he had made and fell on him, 
and he gave one mighty  skirl that was heard  as far as    Mullinahone, and the 
echo of it as far as Grangemockler and Toor, and  even to Kilcash, and he fell 
down  with the falling sickness, and the young lad ran off for help.  And    
when the people came, he was wriggling like an eel, but no matter how he 
twisted, the blood drops still fell on him, and each place they dropped on was 
burned through to the    bone, and in the latter end he died and it  was as 
well.                  

70. An Old Man's Prophecy (1923)      I tell you the English will be back again 
and this Government put out.  It is certain they will come back. It is in 
Columcille's prophecy.  There was a Lord one time was with     O'Brien in 
Dromoland, and O'Brien promised him whatever he would ask and he said, "Give me 
the house of Dromoland and the lands." So he agreed to that.  But then he said    
he had some request to make, and the Lord said he would give it. And he said, 
"Give me the house and the lands of Dromoland back again"; and he had to give 
it.  That will be    the way with the English.  They gave up Ireland, but they 
have their two eyes fixed on it, till they will get it back again.                  

71.The Four leafed Shamrock and the Cock      There was a great fair being held 
in Dingle one day long ago.  Tis a good many years ago, I think.  All of the 
people were gathered there as usual.  Whoever else was there, there    was a 
showman there, and the trick that he had was ac cock walking  down the street 
ahead of him drawing a big, heavy beam tied to his leg.  At least, all the 
people thought    that it was a beam, and everyone was running after him, and as 
he went from street to street, the crowd was getting bigger all the time .  Each 
new  person who saw the cock and    the beam  joined in the procession.  Then 
there came up the street a small old man carrying a load of rushes on his back.  
He wondered what all the people were looking at.  All    that he could see was a 
wisp of straw being dragged along by a cock.  The thought that everybody had 
gone mad, and he asked them why they were following the cock like    that.      
Some of them answered him, "Don't you see the great wonder?" they said. "That 
great beam of wood being dragged after him by that cock, and he's able to pull 
it through    every street he travels and it tied to his leg ?"      "All that 
he's pulling is a wisp of straw," replied the old man.  The showman overheard 
him saying this.  Over to him he went, and he asked him how much he wanted for 
the    load of rushes he had on his back.  The old man named some figure--to 
tell the truth, I can't say how much he wanted for the load of rushes he had on 
his back--but whatever it    was, the showman gave it to him.  He would have 
given him twice as much. As soon as the showman took the load of rushes off the 
old man's back,   the old man followed after    the crowd, but all that he could 
see was the cock pulling a heavy beam tied to his leg.  He followed him all over 
Dingle.      What happened was that the old man had a four -leafed shamrock, 
unknown to himself, tied up in the load of rushes.  That's what made what he saw 
different from what the    people  saw, and that's why the showman paid him 
three times the value for the rushes.  He told the people, and they gave up the 
chase.  I heard that story among the people,    and it could be true, because 
the four-leafed shamrock has that power.--OS41            

72.The Wolf's Prophecy      It chanced one day not long after the coming of the 
Gall from England into Ireland there was a priest making his way through a wood 
of Meath. And there came a man fornest    him and bade him for the love of God 
to come with him to confess his  wife that was lying sick near that place. So 
the priest turned with him and it was not long before he heard    groaning and 
complaining as would be heard form a woman but when he  came where she was lying 
it was a wolf he saw before him on the ground.  The priest was afeared when    
he saw that and he turned away; but the man and wolf s poke with him and bade 
him not to be afeared but to turn and confess her.  Then the priest took heart 
and blessed him    and sat down beside her.  And the wolf spoke to him and made 
her  confession to the priest and he anointed her.  And when they had that done, 
the priest began to thinking in    himself that she that had that mislikeness 
upon her and had grace to speak, might likely have grace and the gift of 
knowledge in other things; and he asked her about the    strangers  that were 
come into Ireland, and what way it would be with them.      And it was what the 
wolf said:" It was through the sin of the people of this country Almighty God 
was displeased with them and sent that race to bring them in to bondage, and    
so they must be until the Gall themselves will be encumbered with sin.  And  at 
that time the people of Ireland will have power to put on them the same 
wretchedness for their    sins."                  

73. Young Lad of the Braided Hair      Young lad of the braided hair, with whom 
I was a while together, you went this way last night and did not come to see me; 
I thought it would do you no harm if you came to    seek me, and that a little 
kiss of yours would give me comfort if I were in the midst of a fever.      If I 
had wealth and money in my pocket I should have a short cut made to the door of 
my love's house, hoping to God I should hear the sweet sound of his shoe; and 
fort many    a day I have not slept but in hopes for the taste of your  kiss.      
And I thought my sweetheart, that you were the moon and the sun and I thought 
after that that you were the snow on the mountain, and I thought after that the 
at you were    lightening from God, or that your were the Pole Star going before 
and behind me.      You promised me silk and satin, hoods and shoes with high 
heels, and you promised after that you would follow me swimming; I am not like 
that, but like a hawthorn in the gap    every evening and every morning watching 
my mother's house.      -Irish Traditional Song J                  

74. The Three Questions      It was this codger and he was hired as a heardsboy 
to a bishop.  Things were bad in Ireland at the time: the enemy had come and 
conquered the country and took the land and    was killing before them, priest 
and people.  So this evening the heardsboy come home and he seen the bishop 
walking up and down and looking very down-in-the-mouth.  "My    Lord Bishop," 
says the herdsboy, "what ails you?  You look very downhearted?" "I'm to die in 
the morning," says the bishop.  "How is that? Says the herdsboy. "I'm to lose    
me head," says the bishop. "The chief that took over this country" he says, 
"sent  for me this morning and give me three questions to answer by the morra 
morning and if I'm    not fit he's to take the head off me. " "What's the three 
questions, my lord?" says the herdsboy. "I might be fit to help." "You could 
not, " says the bishop. "You might only     lose your own head as well."  Anyway 
he got the bishop to tell him, and the herdsboy said that he would go in place 
of the bishop next morning and to leave all to him.   "You'll     only lose your  
head, too " says the bishop.  Morning come and the herdsboy set off and meets 
this big fellow and stands before him.   "How are you?" says  he.  "I'm    
herdsboy to the Lord Bishop," says he.  "Why didn't he come himself?" says he. 
"The Lord Bishop didn't think it worth his while," says he, "to come himself to 
answer three    simple questions."  "Then if you're not fit to answer them you 
'll lose your head," says this big fellow.  "Fair enough," says the herdsboy.  
"Here's my first question then," says    the big fellow.  "What's the first 
thing I think of in the morning when I rise?" "What you'll eat," says the 
herdsboy.  "That's right," says he.  "Now here's  me second question:    How 
many loads of sand are there round the shores of Ireland?" "One," says the 
herdsboy, "if you had a cart big enough to hold it." "Right, says the big  
fellow. "And now    here's my third and last question: How much am I worth?" 
"Twenty-nine pieces of silver," says the herdsboy. "How do you make that out?" 
"Well,  our Lord God Himself was    sold for thirty pieces," says the herdsboy, 
"and you can't be as good as Him." And he got him and the bishop off.                  

75. The Child from the Sea      One day in the olden times, a fisherman from 
Errismore was fishing for gurnet.  The day was very fine, and fish were 
plentiful.  Toward evening, the fisherman felt a great weight    on his line and 
thought that he had hooked a heavy fish.  He started to haul it in, and when he 
had it on board, what had he caught but a male child!  His hair was as red as 
the    coat of a fox.  The hook was stuck into his cheek.  The fisherman was 
very proud of his catch. The boy ran up under the forward half of the boat and 
stayed there.      The fisherman took him home, but as soon as he let him down 
on the floor, the boy rushed in under a bed, and even a man with a pitchfork 
couldn't get him out.   There he    stayed until the following day.  They tried 
by every means to get him to eat and drink, but it was no use.  The man went to 
the priest and told him what had happened.      "You must take him out again, as 
close as you can to the spot where you caught him," said the priest,  "and put 
him back into the sea again."      The fisherman took him in the boat next day 
and rowed toward the place where he had caught him.  When they were near the 
spot the boy gave a big laugh.  He jumped, legs    up, out of the boat, dived 
down like a  cormorant, and was seen no more.--OS33            

76. A Vain Pilgrimage      Coming to Rome, much labour and little profit! The 
King whom you seek here, unless you bring Him with you will not find Him.      -
Irish 9th century.J      

77. The Magic Pigs of Cruachu      ...Out of (the magic cave of Cruachu)it also 
came these pigs. Neither corn nor grass nor leaf would grow for seven years in 
any place that they frequented. Wherever they would    be counted, they would 
not stay, but if anyone tried to count them they would go to another land.  They 
were never completely counted; but "There are three", said one; "More    seven" 
said another; "There are nine" said another; Eleven pigs; Thirteen pigs". In 
that way it was impossible to count them.  Moreover, they could not be killed, 
for if they    were shot at they would disappear. Once upon a time Medhbh of 
Cruachu and Ailill went to count them, in Magh Mucraimhe.  The were counted by 
them then.  Medhbh was in    her chariot; one of the pigs leaped over the 
chariot.  "That pig is one too many, Medhbh" s aid everyone. "Not this one" said 
Medhbh, seizing the pig's leg, so that its hide split    on its forehead and it 
left the hide in her hand with the leg; and it is not known where they went 
after that. Hence it is called Magh Mucraimhe...(Plain of Pig-counting)      -
Irish 9th 10th century J      78. The Hour of Death      The old people used to 
say that in the olden times everybody knew  the exact time when he would die.      
There was a man who knew that he would die in autumn.   He planted his crops the 
previous spring, but instead of building a fine firm fence around them, all he 
did was to plant    a make shift hedge of a  few rushes and ferns to guard the 
crops.  It so happened that God (praise and glory to Him!) sent an angel down on 
earth to find out how the people    were getting on.  The angel came to this man 
and asked him what he was doing.  The  man told him. " And why haven't you a 
better fence than that makeshift to protect your    crops?" asked  the angel.  
"It will do me," said the man, "until I have the crop stored. Let those who 
succeed  me look after their own fences.  I'll die this autumn."       The angel 
returned and told the Almighty what had happened. And from that day on, people 
lost foreknowledge of the hour of death--OS25      

79. The Monk's Mistress      The sweet little bell that is rung on a windy 
night, I would rather go to meet it than to meet a wanton woman.      -Irish 9th 
Century J      

80. Imperial Caesar Dead and Turned to Clay      The world has laid low, and the 
wind blows away like ashes Alexander, Caesar, and all who were in their trust; 
grass-grown is Tara, and see Troy now how it is--and the English    themselves, 
perhaps they too will pass!      -Irish 17th-18th century J            

81. The Sailor and the Rat      Long ago there were people who were able to 
banish rats, if they were doing damage.  The used to have a charm for it, called 
the charm of the rats.      There was once a sailor on a ship, and he had a very 
fine, costly suit of clothes in a trunk.  One day when he opened the trunk to 
put on the suit, or to air it, what did he find but    that it was torn and 
eaten to rags by a rat.      He made no delay but took out his razor and laid it 
edge upward on the deck.  The razor was not long on the deck when out came a 
rat, rubbed its mouth along the edge of the    razor and kissed it.  Then it ran 
back to where it had come from.  Other rata followed, one by one; each of them 
rubbed its mouth along the edge of the razor, kissing it, and then    ran away 
again.  After a few score of them had done that, there finally came out a rat, 
screaming loudly.  She went up to the razor and rubbed her neck along its edge,      
until she fell dead beside it.      The captain of the ship had been watching 
what was going on from the first rat to the last, which had cut its throat on 
the razor.  He went straight to his cabin ,took out his    book, and  called the 
sailor to him.  He paid him whatever wages were due to him and ordered him to 
leave the ship.      "You could have done that trick to any man on board," said 
he. "As easily as you did it to the rat".--OS39                  

82. The Air Ship      One day the monks of Clonmacnoise were holding a meeting 
on the floor of the church, and as they were at their deliberations there they 
saw a ship sailing over them in the air,    going as if it were on the sea.  
When the crew of the ship saw the meeting and the inhabited place below them, 
they dropped anchor, and the anchor came right down on to the    floor of the 
church, and the priests seized it.  A man came down out of the ship after the 
anchor, and he was swimming as if he were in the water, till he reached the 
anchor; and    they were dragging him down then.  "For God's sake let me go! 
Said he, "for you are drowning me." Then he left them, swimming in the air as 
before, taking his anchor with him.     -Irish 14th - 15th century J      

83. The Girl and The Sailor      Long ago a lot of women and girls used to go to 
Catherciveen to sell buttermilk.   There  would often be ten or twelve churns of 
the milk at the Cross and great demand for it.      I heard that on one day the 
women and girls were at the cross as usual selling the milk.  Among them was a 
girl from Rinnard, who had a churn in a donkey cart.   She was    standing in 
the cart with a measure in her hand to sell to anybody who came to her.  Below 
at the pier, a ship was tied up while her cargo was being unloaded. Two of the 
crew    walked up toward the Cross where the women were, and one of them turned 
to the girl from Rinnard and asked here what price the buttermilk was.      "A 
penny a quart," said she." All right," said the sailor.  "Give me a quart of it. 
I'm thirsty." She handed him the quart of milk, and he gave her a penny.  He put 
the saucepan to    his mouth and drank the m ilk while the other sailor looked 
on.  When he had finished, he handed the saucepan back to her. He was standing 
near the cart in which she was, and    he wiped his mouth with a corner of her 
apron.  The two sailors then went off down the street.  What did the girl do but 
jump off the cart and away with her down the street after    the man who had 
wiped his mouth with her apron. She left the ass and the cart and the churn 
behind her.  Some relatives of hers who were  on the street tried to stop her 
and get    her to return to the cart, but if they did, she paid no heed to them.  
Whenever the sailors went into a public house, she followed them and stood near 
the sailor who had touched    her apron.  It was idle for her relatives to try 
to separate them.      Later on in the day, a relative of hers heard what had 
happened.  He went along the street and into a public house where the three of 
them were standing at the counter.  The girl    had her back to him when he 
entered. He went up behind her, took out his  knife, and cut the string of her 
apron.  It fell on the floor.  No sooner did it fall than the girl went off     
out  the door of her own accord and went back to her cart and churn.      The 
man who had cut the strings picked up the apron, took it into the kitchen, and 
shoved it into the center of the fire.   He stood there until it was burned.      
All that were at the fair couldn't separate her from the sailor until the apron 
was taken off her. May God guard us all.!--OS40      

84. The Burial of the Priest's Concubine      This is a tale about a priest's 
concubine when she died,      Many people came to her to carry her away to bury 
her, and they could not lift her because she was heavy.      And they all 
wondered greatly at this, and everyone said, "O One God Almighty Father, how 
shall she be taken to be buried?" And they consulted a cunning professor and the    
Professor said to them as follows: "Bring two priest's concubines to us to carry 
her away to the church." And they were  brought, and they carried her away very 
lightly to the    church; and the people wondered greatly at this, and the 
professor said to them, " There is no cause for you to wonder at their actions, 
O people; that is, that two devils should    carry off one devil with them" 
Finit.      -Irish 14th-15th Century J      

85. Drowned Giantess      A woman, whose breasts had not grown, was cast up on a 
sea shore in Europe.  She was fifty feet tall, that is from her shoulders to her 
feet, and her chest was seven feet    across.  There was a purple cloak on her.  
Her hands were tied behind her back and her head had been cut off; and it was in 
this way that the wave cast  her up on land. Finit.      Another woman was cast 
up from the sea in Scotland and she was a hundred and ninety-tow feet long; 
there were seventeen feet between her breasts, an sixteen was the length    of 
her hair and seven the length of the finger of her hand.  Her nose was seven 
feet long, and there were two feet between her eyebrows.  Every limb of her was 
as white as the    swan of the foam of the wave.      -Irish 14-15th  century/ 
second paragraph 9th century J     

 86. Froech in the Dark Pool      ...He went to come out of theater then. "Do 
not come out, said Ailill, "till you bring me a branch of that mountain-ash on 
the bank of the river. Beautiful I think its berries." He    went away then and 
broke a spray from the tree, and carried it on his back through the water.  And 
this was what Findabhair used to say afterwards of any beautiful thing which    
she saw, that she thought it more beautiful to see Froech across the dark pool; 
the body so white and the hair so lovely, the face so shapely , the eye so blue, 
and he a tender    youth without fault or blemish, with face narrow below and 
broad above, and he straight and spotless, and the branch with the red berries 
between the throat and the white    face...      -Irish 8th century J                  

87. Columcille's Coffin      After Colm was sentenced to exile, he sailed away 
from Derry for Scotland.  He wasn't even allowed to look back as he went.  He 
came to Iona and spent his life converting    pagans over there .      Colm had 
a lovely big white horse of which he was very fond and when Colm grew old and 
lay on his deathbed, the horse came into the house and over to the bed where he    
lay.  It sniffed  and nosed all around him and then went out again.  Colm died 
that night.  But before he died, he asked that his name be put on his coffin and 
that the coffin    should be cast out into the sea.   And so it was done.  Down 
at the lower end of Inishowen, there was a man who had a lot of cattle and he 
had a boy hired to heard them.  The    boy used to take them down to the shore 
every day to graze.  But there was one cow which never ate any grass and was 
forever down on the sands licking at something or    other.  The boy never paid 
much attention to her, but the farmer noticed that this particular cow was 
beginning to give more and more milk, far more than the rest of them, so    much 
so, in fact, that there weren't enough vessels about the place to hold it all.  
"What's that cow eating more than any of the rest of them?" asked the farmer.  
"She's not    eating anything at all," said the boy.  "But she's always d own on 
the sands licking at something or other."      Down they went to see  w hat the 
cow was licking and, sure enough, there was Columcille's coffin sticking up out 
of the sand on the shore with his name on the lid and orders    for him to be 
buried  in Downpatrick. And so it was done----Gp.63                 

 88. Froech and the Fairy Women      ...They heard a sound of wailing throughout 
Cruachu; and three times fifty women were seen with purple tunics and green 
hoods, and silver bracelets round their arms.  People    went to meet them to 
find out why they were lamenting "For Froech son of Idhath" said one of the 
women, "the darling boy of the king of the fairy hills of Ireland". Then Froech    
heard their wail. "Take me out," said he to his followers, "that is the wail of 
my mother and of the womenfolk of Boann." He was taken out thereupon and brought 
to them.  The    women came round him, and took him away to the fairy hill of 
Cruachu.  The next evening they saw him come back, with fifty women around him, 
whole and hale without    blemish or wound.  All the women were of like age and 
shape and  like loveliness and like beauty and like straightness and like 
figure, in the dress of the fairy women, so that    there was no telling one 
from the other.  The people  were almost smothered      in crowding round them.  
They departed at the gateway of the courtyard. As they went away, they gave 
forth their cry, so that the people who were in the court were thrown    
prostrate.  Hence it is that the musicians of Ireland have got the tune "the 
Wail of the Fairy Women....      -Irish 8th century      

89. Sunshine through the Window      Pleasant to me is the glittering of the sun 
today upon these margins because it flickers so      -Irish  9th century J      

90. Midhir's Invitation to the Earthly Paradise      "Fair woman, will you go 
with me to a wonderful land where music is ? The hair is like the primrose tip 
there, and the whole body is the colour of snow.      There, there is neither 
"mine" nor "thine"; white are the teeth there, black  the  eyebrows; a delight 
to the eye is the full number of our hosts; every cheek there is the colour of    
the foxglove.      The ridge of every moor is purple, a delight to the eye are 
the blackbird's eggs; thought the plain of Ireland is fair to see, it is like a 
desert once you know the Great Plain.      Fine though you think the ale of 
Ireland, the ale of the Great Land is more heady ; a wonderful land is the land 
I tell of, the young do not die there before the old.      Sweet mild streams 
flow through the land, choice mead and wine; matchless people without blemish, 
conception without sin, without guilt.      We see everyone on all sides and no 
one sees us; it is the darkness of Adam's trespass that screens us from being 
counted.      Woman, if you come to my mighty people a crown of gold shall be on 
your head; honey wine, ale, fresh milk, and beer you shall have there with me, 
fair woman."      -Irish 9th Century J      

91. Iubhdh/an's Fairy House      I have a house in the land to the north, one 
half of it of red gold, the lower half of silver.      Its porch is of white 
bronze and its threshold of copper, and of the wings of white-yellow birds is 
its thatch, I think.      Its candlesticks are golden, with a candle of great 
purity, with a gem of precious stone in the very middle of the house.      But 
for myself and the high-queen, none of us are sad; a household there without old 
age, with yellow curly-created hair.      Every man is a chess-player, there are 
good companies there without exclusion; the house is not closed against man or 
woman going to it.      -Irish 12th -13th century.J      

92. At the Battle of Magh Mucraimhe      ...Moreover, the air above them was 
black meanwhile with devils waiting for the wretched souls, to drag them to 
Hell.  There were no angels there, except only two and they were    above the 
head of Art wherever he went in the army because of the just character of that 
rightful prince.  Then either of the two armies made for the other.  Fierce was 
the    onslaught they made on either side. Bitter sights were seen there-- the 
white fog of chalk and lime going up to the clouds from the shields and targets 
as they were struck with    the edges of swords and the points of spears and 
arrows which were skillfully parried by the heroes; the bleating and shattering 
of the bosses, as they were belabored with    swords and stones; the noise of 
the pelting weapons; the gushing and shedding of blood and gore from the limbs 
of the champions and the sides of the warriors...      -Irish 9th 10th century J      

93. Eating a Mouse Includes its Tail      ..."That is true," said the king.  
"This is Lughaidh, and it is through fear of me that they do not name 
themselves"...."Well Now",  said the king, "kill me a batch of mice". Then he    
put a mouse in the food served to each man, raw and bloody, with the hair on, 
and this was set before them; and they were told they would be killed unless 
they ate the mice.     They grew very pale at that.  Never had a more 
distressing vexation been put upon them.  "How are they ?" said the king. "They 
are miserable, with their plates before them".    ..."Tell them they shall be 
killed unless they eat." Bad luck to him who decreed it, " said Lughaidh, 
putting the mouse in his mouth, while the king watched him.  At that al the    
men put them in.  There was one poor wretch of them who gagged as he put the 
tail of the mouse to his mouth.  "A sword across your throat" , said Lughaidh, 
"eating a mouse    includes its tail." Then he swallowed the mouse's tail. "They 
do as you tell them," said the king from the door.  "I do as they tell me, too," 
said Lughaidh. "Are you Lughaidh?"    said the king. "That is my name" said 
Lughaidh...      -Irish 9th-10th century.J      

94. The Guest House at the Monastery of Cork      ...The guest house was open 
when he arrived. That day was a day of three things- wind and snow, and rain in 
its doorway; so that the wind left not a straw from the thatch nor a    speck of 
ash that it did not sweep through the opposite door, under the beds and couches 
and partitions of the royal house.  The blanket of the guest house was rolled up 
in a    bundle on its bed, and was full of lice and fleas.  That was natural 
because it was never aired by day nor turned by night, since it was rarely 
unoccupied when it might be    turned.  The guest house bath had last night's 
water in it, and with its heating-stones was beside the doorpost.  The scholar 
found no one to wash his feet, so he himself took    off his shoes and washed 
his hands and feet in that dirty washing-water, and soaked his shoes in it 
afterwards.  He hung his book-satchel on the peg in the wall, put up his    
shoes and tucked his arms together into the blanket and wrapped it round his 
legs.  But as multitudinous as the sands of the sea or sparks of fire or as dew 
drops on a May-day    morning or as the stars of heaven were the lice and the 
fleas biting his feet, so that he grew sick at them. And no one came to visit 
him nor to wait on him..      -Irish 12th century.  ...         

95. Civil Irish and Wild Irish      You who follow English ways, who cut short 
your curling hair, O slender hand of my choice, you are unlike the good son of 
Donnchadh!      If you were he, you would not give up your long hair (the best 
adornment in all the land of Ireland) for an affected English fashion, and your 
head would not be tonsured.      You think a shock of yellow hair unfashionable; 
he hates both the wearing of love-locks and being shaven-headed in the English 
manner-how unlike are your ways.      E/oghan B/an the darling of noble women, 
is a man who never loved English customs; he has not set his heart  on English 
ways, he has chosen the wild life rather.      Your ideas are nothing to E'oghan 
B'an; he would give breeches away for a trifle, a man who asked no cloak but a 
rag, who had no desire for doublet and hose.      He would hate to have at his 
ankle a jeweled spur on a boot, or stockings in the English manner; he will 
allow no love-locks on him.      A blunt rapier which could not kill a fly, the 
son of Donchadh does not think it handsome; nor the weight of an awl sticking 
out behind his rear as he goes to the hill of the    assembly.      Little he 
cares for gold-embroidered cloaks, or for a high well-furnished ruff, or for a 
gold ring which would only be vexatious, or for a satin scarf down to his heels.      
He does not set his heart on a feather bed, he would prefer to lie upon rushes; 
to the good son of Donnchadh a house of rough wattles is more comfortable than 
the battlements    of a  castle.      A troop of horse at the mouth of a pass, a 
wild fight, a ding -dong fray of foot soldiers, these are some  of the delights 
of Donnchadh's son- and seeking contest with the    foreigners.      You are 
unlike E/oghan B/an ;  men laugh at you as you put your foot on the mounting-
block; it is a pity that you yourself don't see your errors, O you who follow 
English    ways.      -Irish Laoiseach Mac an Bhaird 16th century.      

96. Lanty's New House       Lanty M'Cluskey had married a wife, and, of course, 
it was necessary to have a house in which to keep her.  Now, Lanty had taken a 
bit of a farm, about six acres; but as there    was no house on it, he resolved 
to build one; and that it might be as comfortable as possible, he selected for 
the site of it one of those beautiful green circles that are supposed     to be 
the playground of the fairies.  Lanty was warned against this.  But as he was a 
headstrong man, and not much given to fear, he said he would not change such a 
pleasant    situation for his house, to oblige all the fairies in Europe.  He 
accordingly proceeded with the building, which he finished off very neatly.  
And, as it is  usual on these occasions    to give one's neighbors and friends a  
housewarming, so, in compliance with this good and pleasant old custom, Lanty, 
having brought home the wife in the course of the day,     got a fiddler, and a 
lot of whiskey, and gave those who had come to see him a dance in the evening. 
This was all very well, and the fun and hilarity were proceeding briskly,    
when a noise was  heard after night had set in, like a crushing and straining of 
ribs and rafters on the top of the house.  The folks assembled all listened, and 
without doubt there    was nothing heard but crushing, and heaving,  and  
pushing, and groaning, and panting, as if a thousand little men were  engaged in 
pulling down the roof.  "Come" said a    voice, which spoke in a tone of 
command, "work  hard: you know we must have Lanty's house down before midnight."  
This w as an unwelcome piece of intelligence to Lanty,    who finding that his 
enemies were such as he could not cope with, walked out, and addressed them as 
follows:  "Gentlemen I humbly ask your  pardon for building on any place    
belonging to you, but if you'll have the civilitude to let me alone this night, 
I'll begin to pull down and remove the house tomorrow morning."  This was 
followed by a noise like    the slapping of a thousand tiny little  hands, and a 
shout of "Bravo, Lanty! Build halfway between the two white thorns above the 
boreen."  And  after another hearty little    shout of exultation, there was a 
brisk rushing noise, and they were  heard of no more.      The story, however, 
does not end here, for Lanty, when digging the foundation of his new house, 
found the full of a kam of gold so that in leaving to the fairies their    
playground, he became a  richer man than ever he otherwise would have been, had 
he never come in contact with them at all.            

97. The Student's Life      The Student's life is pleasant, carrying on his 
studies; it is plain to you my friends, his is the most pleasant in Ireland.      
No king nor great prince nor landlord, however strong, coerces him; no taxes to 
the Chapter, no fines, no early-rising.      Early-rising or sheep-herding he 
never undertakes them, nor yet does he pay heed to the watchmen in the night.      
He spends a while at backgammon, and at the tuneful harp, or again another while 
at wooing, and at courting a fair woman.      He gets good profit from his  
plough-team when early spring comes round-the fame of his plough is a handful of 
pens!      -Irish, 17th century      

98.   Egan O' Rahilly and the Minister      There was a splendid green-boughed 
tree of great value growing for many years close by a church which the wicked 
Cromwell had plundered, above a spring overflowing with    bright cold water, in 
a field of green turf which a thieving minister had extorted from an Irish 
gentleman; one who had been exiled across the wild seas thorough treachery, and    
not through the edge of the sword.  This stinking l out of a dammed minister 
wanted to  cut a long green bough of the tree to make household gear of it. None 
of the carpenters    or workmen would touch the beautiful bough, for its shade 
was most  lovely, sheltering them as they lamented brokenly and bitterly for the 
bright champions who were    stretched beneath the sod.  "I  will cut it" said a 
bandy meagre-shanked gallows bird of a son of this portly minister,  " and get 
me an axe at once."  The dull-witted oaf went up    into the tree like a scared 
cat fleeing a pack of hounds, until he  came upon two branches growing one 
across the other. He tried to put them apart by the strength of his wrists,    
but they sprang from his hands in the twinkling of an eye across each other 
again, and gripped his gullet, hanging him high between air and Hell. It was 
then the accursed    Sasenach was wriggling his legs in the hangman's  dance, 
and he standing on nothing, and his black tongue out the length of a yard, 
mocking at his father.  The minister    screamed and bawled like a pig in a sack 
or a goose caught under a gate, and no wonder, while the workmen were getting a 
ladder to cut him down.      Egan O' Rahilly from Sliabh Luchra of the Heroes 
was there, watching the gallows-bird of the noose, and he recited this verse:-      
"Good is your fruit tree;      may the bounty of this your fruit be on every 
branch!      Alas that the trees of Ireland are not covered by your fruit every 
day!"      What is the poor wild Irish devil saying? " said the minister , " He 
is lamenting your darling son," said an idler who was beside him. "Here is two 
pence for you to buy tobacco    with." Said the fat badger of a Minster. 
"Thankee, minister of the son of courses" (the Devil) said Egan; and he recited 
a verse:-      "Hurro, minister who gave me your two pence      for lamenting 
your child!      May the fate of that child befall he rest of them down to the 
last of them"      -Irish 18th century      

99. Prosperity in the Time of Tadhg O' Conchobhair      ....The nobleman for 
whom from wide-plained Codhal in the south the fruit and nuts of soft Munster 
have grown bright; owing to our chieftain every bright branched hazel has    
become red, and the fruits of the pleasant bending sloe bushes have grown jet 
black.      In his time the cattle are like part of the Cattle-Tribute; Nuts are 
the hue of coppery gold for the descendant of gentle Mugh; the fruit-flowers in 
their fresh white tresses have    sweetened the cool streams of the tree-blessed 
shore; green corn grows from the earth close up to the mighty woods, and the 
bright hazel branches are filled with sap.      At evening, the flowers of the 
fair-plaited hazel have cooled the sunny earth, the home of stranger birds; 
drops of honey and of dew, like dark tears, will keep the fringe of the    thin-
grassed wood bent down; the saplings around the Boyle are bowed with nuts 
because the slow soft eye of the descendant of Bron looks down on them.      
Nuts dropping into the white-foamed murmuring Boyle will fall down beside the 
great trees with twisted boles; the flower of every tree of them like dark 
purple, is purple for the    race of great Muircheertach.      A shower of honey 
upon slim-formed saplings in the fresh bowed forks of the golden graceful wood- 
this is but another boon from his holding of the peace-and the slow cows    with 
their full udders from the lands of the plain of great Tuam...      -Irish 
Sea/an M/or O' Clumh/ain 14th century J            

100. No man goes Beyond His Day      A fisherman must follow the sea, and how 
can a man escape the day of his death?  There is such and such a time marked out 
for a man on this earth, and , when his day is come,    if he went into an ant's 
hole, death would find him there.  We have only our time, and , young or old, a 
man must go when he is called.      There was a boat going out to Inis 
Tuaisceart once to fish from the rocks, and when they were halfway out they 
found that they had left the mast behind them.  So they went    back for the 
mast.  And there was a man on the slip who was the best man on the island at 
fishing from the rocks, for  at every craft there is one man is better than all 
others, if it    were only at driving nails with a hammer.  They set out again, 
taking this man with them, and, when they came to Inis Tuaisceart, they went 
about the island putting one man out    on a rock here and another there,  till 
at last they were all in their places fishing.  After they had been thus for a 
time, the day began to rise  on them, and the boat went again to    pick up the 
men.  But when they came to the rock where they had put this man out, he was not 
to be found.  A wave had come up out of the sea,  they said, and taken him, for    
death wanted him and his day was come , and when the went back at the beginning 
of the day it was not for the mast they went, as they thought, but for the man.  
No man goes    beyond his day.      101. A light tokens the Death of Mr. 
Corrigan      Well, I was coming along the road convenient to Drumbargy Lane.  
And I seen this light.  And it seemed for the start--I couldn't just say whether 
it started from Francy's or    whether it come past it.  But it was a little 
below Francy's when I seen it first.  And it was a powerful light and what 
struck me was that: wasn't it a wonder that it wasn't blacked    out, do you 
see, for the way it was at that time it was only the underpart of a bicycle 
light that you'd see; the upper part of the glass had to be either blacked or 
there had to be a    black cloth over it.  It was during the war, do you see.  
But this was a full light.  And it came on very, very,very, very very, quick. 
And it was just coming forward to where the     turn is on the road when it 
disappeared.  So I was on this side of Drumbargy Lane at that time.  And the 
thought that struck me was that they either got a burst or a puncture or    
something had happened to the bicycle.  So I came on anyway, expecting for to 
come across some man in difficulty, or some person, man or woman.  But there was 
nobody on    the road.  So I took from that, that it was some kind of token.  
John O'Prey was working here with Francy's father at the time.  And he was 
coming home one night.  And this     light came along, as he thought, meeting 
him.  But it went out before they met.  And there was nobody on the road.  I 
just don't know how long it was before I seen it that John    O'Prey seen it. 
But Francy's father died about in a week or a fortnight, a short time after.                  

102. Who Will Buy a Poem      I ask, who will buy a poem? Its meaning is the 
true learning of sages. Would anyone take, does anyone want, a noble poem which 
would make him immortal?      Though tis is a poem of close-knit lore, I have 
walked all Munster with it, every market-place from cross to cross-      and it 
has brought me no profit from last year to the present.      Though a groat 
would be small payment, no man nor any woman offered it; not a man spoke of the 
reason, but neither Irish nor English heeded me.      An art like this is no 
profit to me, though it is hard that it should die out ;      it would be more 
dignified to go and make combs- why should anyone else take up poetry?      Corc 
of Cashel lives no more, nor Cian, who did not hoard up cattle nor the price of 
them, men who were generous  in rewarding-poets--alas, it is good-bye to the 
race of    /Eibhear.      The prize for generosity was never taken from them, 
until Cobhtach died, and T/al; I spare to mention the many kindreds for whom I 
might have continued to make poetry.      I am like a trading ship that has lost 
its freight, after the FitzGeralds who deserved renown. I hear no offers--how 
that torments me! It is a vain quest about which I ask.      -Irish Mahon O' 
Hefferman 17th century J             

103. The Lawyer and the Devil      There was this man in it one time and he had 
three sons and he wanted to make something of them but hadn't the money.  So he 
sells himself to the Divil to rise money to school    the three boys, and he 
did.  He made one a priest, the other a doctor and the third one was a lawyer.   
The Divil gave him the money to pay for their education.  But anyway, at    the 
end of seven years the Divil showed up to claim the old man and his soul and 
take him and it down to Hell.  He had his three sons there, or one at a time in 
with him.  So    when the Divil come the priest began to pray and beg and appeal 
for the sparings for his father, and in the heel of the hunt he got a few years 
more off the Divil for his father.     When that was up and the Divil came again 
the doctor was there and he appealed for sparings for his father and got them.  
And when the Divil come a third time to claim the old    fellow the lawyer was 
there.  The lawyer says to the divil:      "You've given sparings to my father 
twice already and I know you can't be expected to do it again.  But," says he, " 
as a last request,  will you give him sparings while that butt    of a candle is 
there?"      The candle was burning on the table.  The divil said he would; it 
was only a butt of a candle and wouldn't  be long in it.  At that the lawyer 
picks up the butt of a candle and    blows it out and puts it in his pocket.  
And that was that! The divil had to keep to his bargain and go without the old 
man, for the lawyer held on to the butt of a candle.  Trust    the lawyer to 
beat the Divil.            

104.The Wild Man of the Woods      Dismal is this life, to be without a soft 
bed; a cold frosty dwelling, harshness of snowy wind.      Cold icy wind, faint 
shadow of a feeble sun, the shelter of a single tree on the top of the level 
moor.      Enduring the shower, stepping along deer-paths, traversing greeswards 
on a morning of raw frost...      -Irish 12th century J            

105. The Blood of Adam      There was a priest in this parish long ago, and the 
old people used to tell us a lot of stories about him. He was a fine singer, 
they said, and he could play the fiddle finely and he    was very fond of music.  
He was a noted horseman, too, although it was a horse that killed him in the 
end--it was how he was out one night on a sick call, and it was late and    very 
dark when he was coming home, and the horse stumbled and threw him, and they 
found him in the morning and his neck broken.  It was behind on the Gort a ' 
Ghleanna    road it happened, just at the bridge halfways down the hill.  W ell, 
what I'm telling you happened a good while before that, on another night when he 
was out riding late, when    he was back on the lower road, near the county 
bounds.  It was a bright moonlight night and he was walking the horse along when 
he heard this sweet music coming from the    bank of the river , and he stopped 
to listen to it.  After a while he put the horse at the ditch of the road and 
cleared it into the field and down to the river.  And there was this    very big 
crowd of small people, men and women about as big as a twelve-years-old child, 
and they all gathered around listening to a lot of them that were playing every 
kind of    musical instrument.  And the priest was sitting on his horse, 
enjoying  the music, when some of them saw him. "Tis a priest, " they said and 
the music stopped.  And they all    gathered around the horse.  And one of them, 
the head m an of them, maybe, spoke up.  "Such a  question,  Father, and will 
you answer it?"  "I will, and welcome, if I have the     answer," says the 
priest.  "What we want to know is this, will we go to Heaven?" says the little 
man.  "I do not know," says the priest, "but I can tell you this much: if you  
have    any drop of Adam 's blood in your veins, you have as good a chance of 
Heaven as any man, but if you have not, then you have no right to 
Heaven.""Och/on /O!" says the    little man.  And they all went off along the 
riverbank, all crying and wailing so that it would break your heart to listen to 
them.      return to the top                 

106. Thomas Moore and the Tramp      Thomas Moore was lying looking, him and 
this other, his companion, looking at the Meeting of the Waters and bragging: it 
was such beautiful scenery, gorgeous, never saw    anything like it.  An this 
poor tramp came up, And badly dressed, in rags, and bad boots on him with his 
toes sticking out through his shoes.   And he asked help of Thomas    Moore. And 
Thomas didn't recognize him at all; he ignored him asking for help.  And he 
stood  for a few minutes and he started his wee poem as follows:      " If Moore 
was a man without place of abode,      Without clothes on his back, and him 
walking the road,      Without bit in his belly or shoes on his feet,      He 
wouldn't give a damn where the bright waters meet."      This Moore told him, 
"Repeat that," he says "again." So the tramp repeated it again.  And he put his 
hand in his pocket, and he gave him half a sovereign.  He says , "That's as    
good as I ever heard," he says,  "I couldn't do it better meself ."  That was 
that.  It was a great piece of composition.  It was me father told me that one; 
it was hi