tell me where you're for bringing me."
"There's a great feast in the house of the Banshee, on the top of Croagh
Patric, to-night," says the Puca, "and I'm for bringing you there to
play music, and, take my word, you'll get the price of your trouble."
"By my word, you'll save me a journey, then," says the Piper, "for
Father William put a journey to Croagh Patric on me because I stole the
white gander from him last Martinmas."
The Puca rushed him across hills and bogs and rough places, till he
brought him to the top of Croagh Patric.
Then the Puca struck three blows with his foot, and a great door opened
and they passed in together into a fine room.
The Piper saw a golden table in the middle of the room, and hundreds of
old women sitting round about it.
The old women rose up, and said, "A hundred thousand welcomes to you,
you Puca of November. Who is this you have with you?"
"The best Piper in Ireland," says the Puca.
One of the old women struck a blow on the ground, and a door opened in
the side of the wall, and what should the Piper see coming out but the
white gander which he had stolen from Father William.
"By my conscience, then," says the Piper, "myself and my mother ate
every taste of that gander, only one wing, and I gave that to Red Mary,
and it's she told the priest I stole his gander."
The gander cleaned the table, and carried it away, and the Puca said,
"Play up music for these ladies."
The Piper played up, and the old women began dancing, and they were
dancing till they were tired. Then the Puca said to pay the Piper, and
every old woman drew out a gold piece and gave it to him.
"By the tooth of Patric," says he, "I'm as rich as the son of a lord."
"Come with me," says the Puca, "and I'll bring you home."
They went out then, and just as he was going to ride on the Puca, the
gander came up to him and gave him a new set of pipes.
The Puca was not long until he brought him to Dunmore, and he threw the
Piper off at the little bridge, and then he told him to go home, and
says to him, "You have two things now that you never had before--you
have sense and music." The Piper went home, and he knocked at his
mother's door, saying, "Let me in, I'm as rich as a lord, and I'm the
best Piper in Ireland."
"You're drunk," says the mother.
"No, indeed," says the Piper, "I haven't drunk a drop."
The mother let him in, and he gave her the gold pieces, and, "Wait now,"
says he, "till you hear the music I'll play."
He buckled on the pipes, but instead of music there came a sound as if
all the geese and ganders in Ireland were screeching together. He
wakened the neighbours, and they were all mocking him, until he put on
the old pipes, and then he played melodious music for them; and after
that he told them all he had gone through that night.
The next morning, when his mother went to look at the gold pieces, there
was nothing there but the leaves of a plant.
The piper went to the priest and told him his story, but the priest
would not believe a word from him, until he put the pipes on him, and
then the screeching of the ganders and the geese began.
"Leave my sight, you thief," says the priest.
But nothing would do the Piper till he put the old pipes on him to show
the priest that his story was true.
He buckled on the old pipes, and he played melodious music, and from
that day till the day of his death there was never a Piper in the county
Galway was as good as he was.
DOUGLAS HYDE.
The Fairy Changeling
Dermod O'Byrne of Omah town
In his garden strode up and down;
He pulled his beard, and he beat his breast;
And this is his trouble and woe confessed:
"The good-folk came in the night, and they
Have stolen my bonny wean away;
Have put in his place a changeling,
A weashy, weakly, wizen thing!
"From the speckled hen nine eggs I stole,
And lighting a fire of a glowing coal,
I fried the shells, and I spilt the yolk;
But never a word the stranger spoke.
"A bar of metal I heated red
To frighten the fairy from its bed,
To put in the place of this fretting wean
My own bright beautiful boy again.
"But my wife had hidden it in her arms,
And cried, 'For shame!' on my fairy charms;
She sobs, with the strange child on her breast,
'I love the weak, wee babe the best!'"
To Dermod O'Byrne's, the tale to hear,
The neighbours came from far and near;
Outside his gate, in the long boreen,
They crossed themselves, and said between
Their muttered prayers, "He has no luck!
For sure the woman is fairy-struck,
To leave her child a fairy guest,
And love the weak, wee wean the best!"
DORA SIGERSON.
The Talking Head of Donn-bo
There is an old tale told in Erin of a lovable and bright and handsome
youth named Donn-bo, who was the best singer of "Songs of Idleness" and
the best teller of "King Stories" in the world. He could tell a tale of
each king who reigned in Erin, from the "Tale of the Destruction of Dind
Righ," when Cova Coelbre was killed, down to the kings who reigned in
his own time.
On a night before a battle, the warriors said, "Make minstrelsy to-night
for us, Donn-bo." But Donn-bo answered, "No word at all will come on my
lips to-night; therefore, for this night let the King-buffoon of Ireland
amuse you. But to-morrow, at this hour, in whatsoever place they and I
shall be, I will make minstrelsy for the fighting men." For the warriors
had said that unless Donn-bo would go with them on that hosting, not one
of them would go.
The battle was past, and on the evening of the morrow at that same hour
Donn-bo lay dead, his fair young body stretched across the body of the
King of Ireland, for he had died in defending his chief. But his head
had rolled away among a wisp of growing rushes by the waterside.
At the feasting of the army on that night a warrior said, "Where is
Donn-bo, that he may make minstrelsy for us, as he promised us at this
hour yesternight, and that he may tell us the 'King Stories of Erin'?"
A valiant champion of the men of Munster answered, "I will go over the
battle-field and seek for him." He enquired among the living for
Donn-bo, but he found him not, and then he searched hither and thither
among the dead.
At last he came where the body of the King of Erin lay, and a young,
fair corpse beside it. In all the air about there was the sound of
minstrelsy, low and very sweet; dead bards and poets reciting in faint
whispers old tales and poems to dead chiefs.
The wild, clear note of the battle-march, the _dord fiansa_, played by
the drooping hands of slain warriors upon the points of broken spears,
low like the echo of an echo, sounded in the clump of rushes hard by;
and, above them all, a voice, faint and very still, that sang a song
that was sweeter than the tunes of the whole world beside.
The voice that sang was the voice of the head of Donn-bo. The warrior
stooped to pick up the head.
"Do not touch me," said the head, "for we are commanded by the King of
the Plains of Heaven to make music to-night for our lord, the King of
Erin, the shining one who lies dead beside us; and though all of us are
lying dead likewise, no faintness or feebleness shall prevent us from
obeying that command. Disturb me not."
"The hosts of Leinster are asking thee to make minstrelsy for them, as
thou didst promise yesternight," said the messenger.
"When my minstrelsy here is done, I will go with thee," saith the head;
"but only if Christ, the Son of God, in whose presence I now am, go with
me, and if thou takest me to my body again." "That shall be done,
indeed," saith the messenger, and when it had ceased chanting for the
King of Erin he carried away the head.
When the messenger came again amongst the warriors they stopped their
feasting and gathered round him. "Hast thou brought anything from the
battle-field?" they cried.
"I have brought the head of Donn-bo," said the man.
"Set it upon a pillar that we may see and hear it," cried they all; and
they said, "It is no luck for thee to be like that, Donn-bo, and thou
the most beautiful minstrel and the best in Erin. Make music, for the
love of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Amuse the Leinster men to-night as
thou didst amuse thy lord a while ago."
Then Donn-bo turned his face to the wall, that the darkness might be
around him, and he raised his melody in the quiet night; and the sound
of that minstrelsy was so piteous and sad that the hosts sat weeping at
the sound of it. Then was the head taken to his body, and the neck
joined itself to the shoulders again, and Donn-bo was at rest.
This is the story of the "Talking Head of Donn-bo."
ELEANOR HULL.
The Bracket Bull
I wrote this story carefully down, word for word, from the telling of
two men--the first, Shawn Cunningham, of Ballinphuil, and the second,
Martin Brennan of Ballinlocha, in the barony of Frenchpark. They each
told the same story, but Martin Brennan repeated the end of it at
greater length than the other. The first half is written down word for
word from the mouth of Cunningham, the second half from that of Brennan.
AN CHRAOIBHIN AOIBHINN.
There was a man in it long ago, and long ago it was, and if he was in it
then he would not be in it now. He was married, and his wife was lost
(i.e., died), and he had only one son by the first wife. Then he married
the second wife. This second wife had not much regard for the son, and
he was obliged to go out on the mountain, far from the house, to take
care of the cattle.
There was a bracket (speckled) bull amongst the cows out on the
mountain, and of a day that there was great hunger on the lad, the
bracket bull heard him complaining and wringing his two hands, and he
moved over to him and said to him, "You are hungry, but take the horn
off me and lay it on the ground; put your hand into the place where the
horn was and you will find food."
When he heard that he went over to the bull, took hold of the horn,
twisted it, and it came away with him in his hand. He laid it on the
ground, put in his hand, and drew out food and drink and a table-cloth.
He spread the table-cloth on the ground, set the food and drink on it,
and then he ate and drank his enough. When he had his enough eaten and
drunk, he put the table-cloth back again, and left the horn back in the
place where it was before.
When he came home that evening he did not eat a bit of his supper, and
his stepmother said to herself that he (must have) got something to eat
out on the mountain since he was not eating any of his supper.
When he went out with his cattle the next day his stepmother sent her
own daughter out after him, and told her to be watching him till she
should see where he was getting the food. The daughter went and put
herself in hiding, and she was watching him until the heat of the day
came: but when the middle of the day was come she heard every music more
excellent than another, and she was put to sleep by that truly melodious
music. The bull came then, and the lad twisted the horn off him and drew
out the table-cloth, the food, and the drink, and ate and drunk his
enough. He put back the horn again then. The music was stopped and the
daughter woke up, and was watching him until the evening came, and he
drove the cows home then. The mother asked her did she see anything in
the field, and she said that she did not. The lad did not eat two bites
of his supper, and there was wonder on the stepmother.
The next day when he drove out the cows the stepmother told the second
daughter to follow him, and to be watching him till she would see where
he was getting things to eat. The daughter followed him and put herself
in hiding, but when the heat of the day came the music began and she
fell asleep. The lad took the horn off the bull, drew out the
table-cloth, the food, and drink, ate and drank his enough, and put back
the horn again. The girl woke then, and was watching him until the
evening. When the evening came he drove the cows home, and he was not
able to eat his supper any more than the two evenings before. The
stepmother asked the daughter did she see anything, and she said she did
not. There was wonder on the stepmother.
The next day, when the lad went out herding the cows, the stepmother
sent the third daughter out after him, and threatened her not to fall
asleep, but to have a good watch. The daughter followed the lad, and
went into hiding. This daughter had three eyes, for she had an eye in
the back of her head. When the bracket bull began playing every music
more excellent than another, he put the other eyes to sleep, but he was
not able to put the third eye to sleep. When the heat of the day came
she saw the bracket bull coming to the boy, and the boy taking the horn
off him and eating.
She ran home then, and said to her mother that there wasn't such a
dinner in the world as was being set before the boy out of the horn of
the bracket bull.
Then the mother let on that she was sick, and she killed a cock, and she
let down its blood into her bed, and she put up a sup of the blood into
her mouth, and she sent for her husband, saying that she was finding
death (dying). Her husband came in, and he saw the blood, and he said,
"Anything that is in the world that would save her that she must get
it." She said that there wasn't a thing in the world that would save her
but a piece of the bracket bull that was on the mountain.
"You must get that," said he.
The bracket bull used to be the first one of the cattle that used to
come in every night, and the stepmother sent for two butchers, and she
set them on each side of the gate to kill the bracket bull when he would
come.
The bracket bull said to the boy, "I'll be swept (done for) to-night,
unless another cow goes before me." He put another cow out before him,
and the two butchers were standing on each side of the gate to kill the
first one that would come in. The bull sent the cow out before him,
going through the gate, and they killed her: and then the stepmother got
a piece of her to eat, and she thought that it was the bracket bull that
she was eating, and she got better then.
The next night, when the lad came home with the cattle, he ate no more
of his supper than any other night, and there was wonder on the
stepmother. She heard after this that the bracket bull was in it (i.e.,
alive) all through, and that he was not killed at that time.
When she heard that she killed a cock, and she let down some of its
blood into her bed, and she put a sup of the blood into her mouth, and
she played the same trick over again, and said that there was nothing
at all to cure her but a piece of the bracket bull.
The butchers were sent for, and they were ready to kill the bracket bull
as soon as he came in. The bracket bull sent another one of the cattle
in before himself, and the butchers killed it. The woman got part of its
flesh, and she thought it was part of the bracket bull she was eating,
and she got better.
She found out afterwards that it was not the bracket bull that was dead,
and she said, "Never mind; I'll kill the bracket bull yet!"
The next day, when the lad was herding the cows on the mountain, the
bracket bull came and said to him, "Take the horn off me and eat your
enough now. That's the last time for you. They are waiting to kill me
to-night, but don't you be afraid. It is not they who shall kill me, but
another bull shall kill me. Get up on my back now."
The lad got up on his back then and they went home. The two butchers
were on each side of the gate waiting for him. The bracket bull struck a
horn on each side of him, and he killed the two butchers. Out with him
then, and the lad on his back.
He went into a wild wood, and he himself and the lad spent the night in
that wood. He was to fight with the other bull on the next day.
When the day came, the bracket bull said, "Take the horn off me and eat
your enough--that's the last luck you have. I am to fight with the other
bull immediately, and I shall escape from him to-day, but he will have
me dead to-morrow by twelve o'clock."
Himself and the other bull fought that day, and the bracket bull came
back in the evening, and he himself and the lad passed that night in the
wood.
When the next day came, the bracket bull said to him, "Twist the horn
off me and eat your enough--that's the last luck you'll have. Listen now
to the thing that I'm telling you. When you'll see me dead, go and cut a
strip of skin of the back and a strip of the stomach off me, and make a
belt of it, and at any time at all there will be any hard pinch on you,
you shall have my power."
The bracket bull went then to fight with the other bull, and the other
bull killed him. The other bull went away then. The lad came to the
bracket bull where he was lying on the ground, and he was not dead,
out-and-out. When he saw the boy coming he said, "Oh," said he, "make
haste as well as you can in the world, and take out your knife and cut
that strip off me, or you will be killed as well as myself."
There was a trembling in the poor creature's hand, and he was not able
to cut a piece at all off the bull, after his feeding him for so long,
and after the kindness he had got from him.
The bracket bull spoke again, and told him to cut the strip off him on
the instant, and that it would assist him as long as he would be alive.
He cut a strip off the back then, and another strip off the belly, and
he went away.
There was plenty of trouble and of grief on him, going of him, and he
ought to have that on him too, and he departing without any knowledge of
where he was making for, or where he would go.
A gentleman met him on the road, and asked him where he was going. The
lad said that he did not himself know where he was going, but that he
was going looking for work.
"What are you able to do?" says the gentleman.
"I'm as good a herd as ever you saw, but I'll not tell you a lie--I can
do nothing but herding; but, indeed, I'll do that as well as any man
that ever you saw."
"It's you I want," says the gentleman. "There are three giants up by my
land, on the one mearing with me, and anything that will go in on their
land they will keep it, and I cannot take it off them again. That's all
they're asking--my cattle to go in across the mearing to them."
"Never mind them. I'll go bail that I'll take good heed of them, and
that I'll not let anything in to them."
The gentleman brought him home then, and he went herding for him. When
the grass was getting scarce, he was driving the cows further out. There
was a big stone wall between the land of the giants and his master's
land. There was fine grass on the other side of the wall. When he saw
that, he threw down a gap in the wall and let in the pigs and the cows.
He went up into a tree then, and was throwing down apples and all sorts
(of fruit) to the pigs.
A giant came out, and when he saw the lad up on the tree throwing down
the apples to the pigs, the head rose on him (i.e., he got furious). He
came to the tree. "Get down out of that," says he. "I think you big for
one bite and small for two bites; come down till I draw you under my
long cold teeth."
"Arrah, take yourself easy," says the boy; "perhaps it's too quick I'd
come down to you."
"I won't be talking to you any longer," says the giant. He got a
leverage on the tree and drew it up out of the roots.
"Go down, black thong, and squeeze that fellow," says the lad, for he
remembered the advice of the bracket bull. On the instant the black
thong leaped out of his hand, and squeezed the giant so hard that the
two eyes were going out on his head, for stronger was the power of the
bull than the power of the giant. The giant was not able to put a stir
out of himself, and he promised anything at all--only to save his life
for him. "Anything at all you want," says he to the lad, "you must get
it from me."
"I'm not asking anything at all except the loan of the sword that's
under your bed," says he.
"I give it to you, and welcome," says the giant. He went in, and brought
out the sword with him.
"Try it on the three biggest trees that are in the wood, and you won't
feel it in your hand going through them," says the giant.
"I don't see any tree in the wood bigger or uglier than yourself," says
he, drawing the sword and whipping the head off him, so that he sent it
seven furrows and seven ridges with that stroke.
"If I were to get on the body again," said the head, and it talking,
"and the men of the world wouldn't get me off the trunk again."
"I'll take good care myself of that," says the lad.
When he drove the cows home in the evening, they had that much milk that
they had not half enough of vessels, and two coopers were obliged to
make new vessels to hold the quantity of milk they had.
"You're the best lad that ever I met," says the gentleman, and he was
thankful to him.
The giants used to put--each man of them--a shout of him every evening.
The people only heard two shouts that evening. "There's some change in
the caher[2] to-night," said the gentleman, when he heard the two
shouts.
"Oh," says the lad, "I saw one of them going away by himself to-day, and
he did not come home yet."
On the next day the lad drove out his cattle until he came to the big
stone wall, and he threw a gap in it, and let the cattle into the same
place. He went up into a tree and began throwing down the apples. The
second giant came running, and said, "What's the meaning of throwing my
wall and letting in your cattle on my estate? Get down out of that at
once. You killed my brother yesterday."
"Go down, black thong, and bind that one," says the lad. The thong
squeezed him so that he was not able to put a stir out of himself, and
he promised the lad anything at all--only to spare his life.
"I am asking nothing of you but the loan of the old sword that is under
your bed."
"I'll give you that, and welcome." He went in, and brought out the sword
with him. Each man of them had a sword, and every sword better than
another.
"Try that sword on the six biggest trees that are in the wood, and it
will go through them without turning the edge."
"I don't see any tree in the wood bigger or uglier than yourself," says
he, drawing the sword and whipping the head off him, so that he sent it
seven furrows and seven ridges from the body.
"Oh," said the head, "if I were to get going on the body again, and the
men of the world wouldn't get me off it again."
"Oh, I'll take care of that myself," says the boy.
When he drove the cows home that night there was wonder on the people
when they saw the quantity of milk they had. The gentleman said that
there was another change in the caher that day again, as he did not hear
but only one shout, but the lad said that he saw another one going away
that day, and that it was likely that he did not come back yet.
On the next day he went out, and drove the pigs and the cows up to the
hall door, and was throwing down the apples to them. The third giant
came out--the eldest man of them--and he was full mad after his two
brothers being dead, and the teeth that were in his head were making a
hand-stick for him. He told the boy to come down; that he did not know
what he would do to him after his having killed his two brothers. "Come
down," says he, "till I draw you under my long, cold teeth"; and it was
on him the long, cold teeth were, and no lie.
"Go down, black thong, and bind that one till the eyes will be going out
on his head with the power of the squeezing that you'll give him."
The black thong leaped from him, and it bound the giant until the two
eyes were going out on his head with the squeezing and with the
tightening it gave him, and the giant promised to give him anything at
all; "but spare my life," says he.
"I'm only asking the loan of the old sword that's under your bed," said
the lad.
"Have it, and welcome," says the giant. He went in, and brought out the
sword with him. "Now," says the giant, "strike the two ugliest stumps in
the wood, and the sword will cut them without getting a bent edge."
"Musha, then, by Mary," says the boy, "I don't see any stump in the wood
uglier than yourself," and he struck him so that he sent his head seven
furrows and seven ridges from the body.
"Ochone for ever!" says the head. "If I were to get going on the body
again, the men of the world--they wouldn't get me off the body again."
"I'll take care of that myself," says the boy.
When he came home that night the coopers were not able to make enough of
vessels for them to hold the quantity of milk that the cows had, and the
pigs were not able to eat with the quantity of apples that they had
eaten before that.
He was a while in that way herding the cows and everything that was in
the castle, he had it. There was no one at all going near the castle,
for there was fear on them.