himself, and maybe that will give you and Finn time to think of some
plan to get yourselves out of the scrape. But," she proceeded, "I'm
short of butter, having in the house only half a dozen firkins, and as
I'm to have a few giants and giantesses to spend the evenin' with me I'd
feel thankful, Oonagh, if you'd throw me up fifteen or sixteen tubs, or
the largest miscaun you've got, and you'll oblige me very much."
"I'll do that with a heart and a half," replied Oonagh; "and, indeed,
Granua, I feel myself under great obligations to you for your kindness
in keeping him off us till we see what can be done; for what would
become of us all if anything happened to Finn, poor man!"
She accordingly got the largest miscaun of butter she had--which might
be about the weight of a couple of dozen millstones, so that you can
easily judge of its size--and calling up her sister, "Granua," says she,
"are you ready? I'm going to throw you up a miscaun, so be prepared to
catch it."
"I will," said the other. "A good throw, now, and take care it does not
fall short."
Oonagh threw it, but in consequence of her anxiety about Finn and Far
Rua she forgot to say the charm that was to send it up, so that instead
of reaching Cullamore, as she expected, it fell about half-way between
the two hills at the edge of the Broad Bog, near Augher.
"My curse upon you!" she exclaimed, "you've disgraced me. I now change
you into a grey stone. Lie there as a testimony of what has happened,
and may evil betide the first living man that will ever attempt to move
or injure you!"
And, sure enough, there it lies to this day, with the mark of the four
fingers and thumb imprinted on it, exactly as it came out of her hand.
"Never mind," said Granua, "I must only do the best I can with Far Rua.
If all fail, I'll give him a cast of heather broth, or a panada of oak
bark. But, above all things, think of some plan to get Finn out of the
scrape he's in, or he's a lost man. You know you used to be sharp and
ready-witted; and my own opinion is, Oonagh, that it will go hard with
you, or you'll outdo Far Rua yet."
She then made a high smoke on the top of the hill, after which she put
her finger in her mouth and gave three whistles, and by that Far Rua
knew that he was invited to the top of Cullamore--for this was the way
that the Irish long ago gave a sign to all strangers and travellers to
let them know they are welcome to come and take share of whatever was
going.
In the meantime Finn was very melancholy, and did not know what to do,
or how to act at all. Far Rua was an ugly customer, no doubt, to meet
with; and, moreover, the idea of the confounded "cake" aforesaid
flattened the very heart within him. What chance could he have, strong
and brave as he was, with a man who could, when put in a passion, walk
the country into earthquakes and knock thunderbolts into pancakes? The
thing was impossible, and Finn knew not on what hand to turn him. Right
or left, backward or forward, where to go he could form no guess
whatever.
"Oonagh," said he, "can you do anything for me? Where's all your
invention? Am I to be skivered like a rabbit before your eyes and to
have my name disgraced for ever in the sight of all my tribe, and me the
best man among them? How am I to fight this man-mountain--this huge
cross between an earthquake and a thunderbolt--with a pancake in his
pocket that was once----?"
"Be aisy, Finn," replied Oonagh. "Troth, I'm ashamed of you. Keep your
toe in your pump, will you? Talking of pancakes, maybe we'll give him as
good as any he brings with him--thunderbolts or otherwise. If I don't
treat him to as smart feeding as he's got this many a day, don't trust
Oonagh again. Leave him to me, and do just as I bid you."
This relieved Finn very much, for, after all, he had great confidence in
his wife, knowing, as he did, that she had got him out of many a
quandary before. The present, however, was the greatest of all; but,
still, he began to get courage and to eat his victuals as usual. Oonagh
then drew the nine woollen threads of different colours, which she
always did to find out the best way of succeeding in anything of
importance she went about. She then plaited them into three plaits, with
three colours in each, putting one on her right arm, one round her
heart, and the third round her right ankle, for then she knew that
nothing could fail her that she undertook.
Having everything now prepared, she sent round to the neighbours and
borrowed one-and-twenty iron griddles, which she took and kneaded into
the hearts of one-and-twenty cakes of bread, and these she baked on the
fire in the usual way, setting them aside in the cupboard according as
they were done. She then put down a large pot of new milk, which she
made into curds and whey, and gave Finn due instructions how to use the
curds when Far Rua should come. Having done all this, she sat down quite
contented waiting for his arrival on the next day about two o'clock,
that being the hour at which he was expected--for Finn knew as much by
the sucking of his thumb. Now, this was a curious property that Finn's
thumb had; but notwithstanding all the wisdom and logic he used to suck
out of it, it could never have stood to him here were it not for the wit
of his wife. In this very thing, moreover, he was very much resembled by
his great foe, Far Rua; for it was well known that the huge strength
that he possessed all lay in the middle finger of his right hand, and
that if he happened by any chance to lose it, he was no more,
notwithstanding his bulk, than a common man.
At length the next day he was seen coming across the valley, and Oonagh
knew that it was time to commence operations. She immediately made the
cradle, and desired Finn to lie down in it and cover himself up with the
clothes.
"You must pass for your own child," said she, "so just lie there snug
and say nothing, but be guided by me." This, to be sure, was wormwood to
Finn--I mean going into the cradle in such a cowardly manner--but he
knew Oonagh very well; and finding that he had nothing else for it, with
a very rueful face he gathered himself into it and lay snug, as she had
desired him.
About two o'clock, as he had been expected, Far Rua came in. "God save
all here!" said he. "Is this where the great Finn M'Coul lives?"
"Indeed it is, honest man," replied Oonagh. "God save you kindly--won't
you be sitting?"
"Thank you, ma'am," says he, sitting down. "You're Mrs. M'Coul, I
suppose?"
"I am," says she, "and I have no reason, I hope, to be ashamed of my
husband."
"No," said the other; "he has the name of being the strongest and
bravest man in Ireland. But, for all that, there's a man not far from
you that's very anxious of taking a shake with him. Is he at home?"
"Why, no, then," she replied; "and if ever a man left in a fury he did.
It appears that someone told him of a big bosthoon of a giant called Far
Rua being down at the Causeway to look for him, and so he set out there
to try if he could catch him. Troth, I hope, for the poor giant's sake,
he won't meet with him, for if he does Finn will make paste of him at
once."
"Well," said the other, "I am Far Rua, and I have been seeking him these
twelve minths, but he always kept clear of me; and I will never rest day
or night till I lay my hands on him."
At this Oonagh set up a loud laugh of great contempt, by the way, and
looked at him as if he were only a mere handful of a man.
"Did you ever see Finn?" said she, changing her manner all at once.
"How could I?" said he. "He always took care to keep his distance."
"I thought so," she replied. "I judged as much; and if you take my
advice, you poor-looking creature, you'll pray night and day that you
may never see him, for I tell you it will be a black day for you when
you do. But, in the meantime, you perceive that the wind's on the door,
and as Finn himself is far from home, maybe you'd be civil enough to
turn the house, for it's always what Finn does when he's here."
This was a startler, even to Far Rua; but he got up, however, and after
pulling the middle finger of his right hand until it cracked three
times, he went outside, and getting his arms about the house, completely
turned it as she had wished. When Finn saw this he felt a certain
description of moisture, which shall be nameless, oozing out through
every pore of his skin; but Oonagh, depending upon her woman's wit, felt
not a whit daunted.
"Arrah, then," said she, "as you're so civil, maybe you'd do another
obliging turn for us, as Finn's not here to do it himself. You see,
after this long stretch of dry weather that we've had, we feel very
badly off for want of water. Now, Finn says there's a fine spring well
somewhere under the rocks behind the hill there below, and it was his
intention to pull them asunder; but having heard of you he left the
place in such a fury that he never thought of it. Now, if you try to
find it, troth, I'd feel it a kindness."
She then brought Far Rua down to see the place, which was then all one
solid rock; and after looking at it for some time, he cracked his right
middle finger nine times, and, stooping down, tore a cleft about four
hundred feet deep and a quarter of a mile in length, which has since
been christened by the name of Lumford's Glen. This feat nearly threw
Oonagh herself off her guard; but what won't a woman's sagacity and
presence of mind accomplish?
"You'll now come in," said she, "and eat a bit of such humble fare as we
can give. Finn, even though you and he were enemies, would scorn not to
treat you kindly in his own house; and, indeed, if I didn't do it even
in his absence, he would not be pleased with me."
She accordingly brought him in, and placing half a dozen of the cakes we
spoke of before him, together with a can or two of butter, a side of
boiled bacon, and a stack of cabbage, she desired him to help
himself--for this, be it known, was long before the invention of
potatoes. Far Rua, who, by the way, was a glutton as well as a hero, put
one of the cakes in his mouth to take a huge whack out of it, when both
Finn and Oonagh were stunned with a noise that resembled something
between a growl and a yell. "Blood and fury!" he shouted out. "How is
this? Here are two of my teeth out! What kind of bread is this you gave
me?"
"What's the matter?" said Oonagh coolly.
"Matter!" shouted the other. "Why, here are two of the best teeth in my
head gone."
"Why," said she, "that's Finn's bread--the only bread he ever eats when
at home; but, indeed, I forgot to tell you that nobody can eat it but
himself and that child in the cradle there. I thought, however, that as
you were reported to be rather a stout little fellow of your size you
might be able to manage it, and I did not wish to affront a man that
thinks himself able to fight Finn. Here's another cake--maybe it's not
so hard as that."
Far Rua, at the moment, was not only hungry, but ravenous, so he
accordingly made a fresh set at the second cake, and immediately another
yell was heard twice as loud as the first. "Thunder and giblets!" he
roared, "take your bread out of this, or I will not have a tooth in my
head; there's another pair of them gone."
"Well, honest man," replied Oonagh, "if you're not able to eat the bread
say so quietly, and don't be awakening the child in the cradle there.
There, now, he's awake upon me!"
Finn now gave a skirl that frightened the giant, as coming from such a
youngster as he was represented to be. "Mother," said he, "I'm
hungry--get me something to eat." Oonagh went over, and putting into
his hand a cake _that had no griddle in it_--Finn, whose appetite in the
meantime was sharpened by what he saw going forward, soon made it
disappear. Far Rua was thunderstruck, and secretly thanked his stars
that he had the good fortune to miss meeting Finn, for, as he said to
himself, I'd have no chance with a man who could eat such bread as that,
which even his son that's in the cradle can munch before my eyes.
"I'd like to take a glimpse at the lad in the cradle," said he to
Oonagh, "for I can tell you that the infant who can manage that
nutriment is no joke to look at or to feed of a scarce summer."
"With all the veins of my heart," replied Oonagh. "Get up, acushla, and
show this decent little man something that won't be unworthy of your
father, Finn M'Coul."
Finn, who was dressed for the occasion as much like a boy as possible,
got up, and bringing Far Rua out, "Are you strong?" said he.
"Thunder and ounze!" exclaimed the other, "what a voice in so small a
chap!"
"Are you strong?" said Finn again. "Are you able to squeeze water out of
that white stone?" he asked, putting one into Far Rua's hand. The latter
squeezed and squeezed the stone, but to no purpose; he might pull the
rocks of Lumford's Glen asunder, and flatten a thunderbolt, but to
squeeze water out of a white stone was beyond his strength. Finn eyed
him with great contempt as he kept straining and squeezing and squeezing
and straining till he got black in the face with the efforts.
"Ah, you're a poor creature," said Finn. "You a giant! Give me the stone
here, and when I'll show what Finn's little son can do you may then
judge of what my daddy himself is."
Finn then took the stone, and then, slyly exchanging it for the curds,
he squeezed the latter until the whey, as clear as water, oozed out in a
little shower from his hand.
"I'll now go in," said he, "to my cradle; for I scorn to lose my time
with anyone that's not able to eat my daddy's bread, or squeeze water
out of a stone. Bedad, you had better be off out of this before he comes
back, for if he catches you, it's in flummery he'd have you in two
minutes."
Far Rua, seeing what he had seen, was of the same opinion himself; his
knees knocked together with the terror of Finn's return, and he
accordingly hastened in to bid Oonagh farewell, and to assure her that,
from that day out, he never wished to hear of, much less to see, her
husband. "I admit fairly that I'm not a match for him," said he, "strong
as I am. Tell him I will avoid him as I would the plague, and that I
will make myself scarce in this part of the country while I live."
Finn, in the meantime, had gone into the cradle, where he lay very
quietly, his heart in his mouth with delight that Far Rua was about to
take his departure without discovering the tricks that been played off
on him.
"It's well for you," said Oonagh, "that he doesn't happen to be here,
for it's nothing but hawk's meat he'd make of you."
"I know that," said Far Rua, "divel a thing else he'd make of me; but,
before I go, will you let me feel what kind of teeth they are that can
eat griddle-cakes like _that_?" and he pointed to it as he spoke.
"With all the pleasure in life," says she; "only as they're far back in
his head you must put your finger a good way in."
Far Rua was surprised to find so powerful a set of grinders in one so
young; but he was still much more so on finding, when he took his hand
from Finn's mouth, that he had left the very finger upon which his whole
strength depended behind him. He gave one loud groan and fell down at
once with terror and weakness. This was all Finn wanted, who now knew
that his most powerful and bitterest enemy was completely at his mercy.
He instantly started out of the cradle, and in a few minutes the great
Far Rua, that was for such a length of time the terror of him and all
his followers, was no more.
WILLIAM CARLETON.
The Ninepenny Fidil
My father and mother were Irish
And I am Irish too;
I bought a wee fidil for ninepence
And that is Irish too;
I'm up in the morning early
To meet the break of day,
And to the lintwhite's piping
The many's the tunes I play!
One pleasant eve in June-time
I met a lochrie man,
His face and hands were weazen,
His height was not a span.
He boor'd me for my fidil--
"You know," says he, "like you,
"My father and mother were Irish,
"And I am Irish too!"
He took my wee red fidil,
And such a tune he turned,
The Glaise in it whispered
The Lionan in it m'urned;
Says he, "My lad, you're lucky,
"I wisht I was like you,
"You're lucky in your birth-star,
"And in your fidil too!"
He gave me back my fidil,
My fidil-stick also,
And stepping like a May-boy,
He jumped the Lear-gaidh-knowe.
I never saw him after,
Nor met his gentle kind,
But whiles I think I hear him,
A-wheening in the wind!
JOSEPH CAMPBELL.
The Festivities at the House of Conan of Ceann Sleibhe
"Win victory and blessings, O Fionn," said Conan, "and tell me who was
the man that, having only one leg, one arm, and one eye, escaped from
you in consequence of his swiftness, and outstripped the Fenians of
Eire, and why is this proverb used, 'As Roc came to the house of
Fionn'?"
"I will tell you that," said Fionn. "One day the chief of the Fenians
and I went to Teamhair Luachra, and we took nothing in the chase that
same day but one fawn. When it had been cooked it was fetched to me for
the purpose of dividing it. I gave a portion of it to each of the Fenian
chiefs, and there remained none for my own share but a haunch bone.
Gobha Gaoithe, son of Ronan, presented himself, and requested me to
give him the haunch. I accordingly gave it to him. He then declared that
I gave him that portion on account of his swiftness of foot: and he went
out on the plain, but he had only gone a short distance when Caoilte,
son of Ronan, his own brother, overtook him, and brought the haunch back
again to me, and we had no further dispute about the matter. We had not
been long so when we saw a huge, obnoxious, massy-boned, black,
detestable giant, having only one eye, one arm, and one leg, hop forward
towards us. He saluted us. I returned the salutation, and asked him
whence he came. 'I am come by the powers of the agility of my arm and
leg,' responded he, 'having heard there is not one man in the world more
liberal in bestowing gifts than you, O Fionn; therefore, I am come to
solicit wealth and valuable gifts from you.' I replied that were all the
wealth of the world mine I would give him neither little nor much. He
then declared 'they were all liars who asserted that I never gave a
refusal to any person.' I replied that if he were a man I would not give
him a refusal. 'Well, then,' said the giant, 'let me have that haunch
you have in your hand, and I will say good-bye to the Fenians, provided
that you allow me the length of the haunch as a distance, and that I am
not seized upon until I make my first hop.' Upon hearing this I gave the
haunch into the giant's hand, and he hopped over the lofty stockades of
the town; he then made use of the utmost swiftness of his one leg to
outstrip all the rest of the Fenians. When the Fenian chiefs saw that,
they started in pursuit of the giant, while I and the band of minstrels
of the town went to the top of the dun to watch their proceedings. When
I saw that the giant had outstripped them a considerable distance, I put
on my running habiliments, and, taking no weapon but Mac an Loin in my
hand, I started after the others. I overtook the hindmost division on
Sliabh an Righ, the middle (next) division at Limerick, and the chiefs
of the Fenians at Ath Bo, which is called Ath-Luain (Athlone), and those
first in the pursuit at Rinn-an-Ruaigh, to the right-hand side of
Cruachan of Connacht, where he (the giant) was distant less than a
javelin's cast from me. The giant passed on before me and crossed Eas
Roe (now Ballyshannon), of the son of Modhuirn, without wetting his
foot. I leaped over it after him. He then directed his course towards
the estuary of Binn-Edair, keeping the circuit of Eire to his right
hand. The giant leaped over the estuary, and it was a leap similar to
flight over the sea. I sprang after him, and having caught him by the
small of the back, laid him prostrate on the earth. 'You have dealt
unjustly by me, O Fionn,' cried the giant; 'for it was not with you I
arranged the combat, but with the Fenians.' I replied that the Fenians
were not perfect, except I myself were with them. We had not remained
long thus when Liagan Luaimneach, from Luachar Deaghaidh, came to us. He
was followed by Caoilte Mac Ronan, together with the swiftest of the
Fenians. Each of them couched his javelin, intending to drive it through
the giant and kill him in my arms, but I protected him from their
attacks. Soon after this the main body of the Fenians arrived; they
enquired what was the cause of the delay that the giant had not been
slain. 'That is bad counsel,' said the giant, 'for a better man than I
am would be slain in my eric.' We bound the giant strongly on that
occasion; and soon after Bran Beag O'Buadhchan came to invite me to a
feast, and all the Fenians of Eire, who had been present, accompanied
him to his house. The banqueting hall had been prepared for our
reception at that time, and the giant was dragged into the middle of the
house, and was there placed in the sight of all present. They asked him
who he was. 'Roc, son of Diocan, is my name,' replied he, 'that is, I am
son to the Legislator of Aengus of the Brugh in the south. My betrothed
poured a current of surprising affection and a torrent of deep love upon
Sgiath Breac, son of Dathcaoin yonder, who is your foster son, O Fionn;
it hurt my feelings severely to hear her boast of the swiftness and
bravery of her lover in particular, and of the Fenians in general, and I
declared that I would challenge him and all the Fenians of Eire to run a
race with me; but she sneered at me. I then went to my beloved friend,
Aengus of the Brugh, to bemoan my fate; and he metamorphosed me thus,
and bestowed on me the swiftness of a druidical wind, as you have seen.
This is my history for you; and you ought to be well satisfied with all
the hurt and injury you have inflicted upon me already.'
"Then I repented me of the indignity put upon the giant, and I released
him from his bonds and I bade Liagan Luaimneach companion him to the
presence of his betrothed one and testify to her on my behalf of his
prowess in the race, wherein he had outstripped all the Fenians of Eire,
save only myself. So the two went forth together in friendly amity, and
Roc, for the champion feat reported of him by Liagan Luaimneach,
recovered the affection of his betrothed, and straightway took her to
wife. From that adventure, indeed, arose the proverb, 'As Roc came to
the House of Fionn,' and so that is the answer to your question, O
Conan," said Fionn.
"Win victory and blessings, O Fenian King," said Conan; "it is with
clear memory and sweet words you relate these things. Tell me now the
meaning of the byword, 'The hospitality of Fionn in the house of
Cuanna.'"