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. 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
Fin knew as much by the sucking of his thumb. Now this was a curious
property that Fin's thumb had. In this very thing, moreover, he was
very much resembled by his great foe, Cuhullin; for it was well known
that the huge strength he possessed all lay in the middle finger of
his right hand, and that, if he happened by any mischance to lose it,
he was no more, for all his bulk, than a common man.
At length, the next day, Cuhullin was seen coming across the valley,
and Oonagh knew that it was time to commence operations. She
immediately brought the cradle, and made Fin 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."
About two o'clock, as he had been expected, Cuhullin came in. "God
save all here!" said he; "is this where the great Fin 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," said 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 desirous of taking a shake with him. Is he at home?"
"Why, then, no," she replied; "and if ever a man left his house in a
fury he did. It appears that some one told him of a big basthoon of a
giant called Cuhullin 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, Fin
will make paste of him at once."
"Well," said the other, "I am Cuhullin, and I have been seeking him
these twelve months, but he always kept clear of me; and I will never
rest night or day 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 was only a mere handful of a man.
"Did you ever see Fin?" 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 Fin himself is from home, maybe you'd be civil enough to
turn the house, for it's always what Fin does when he's here."
This was a startler even to Cuhullin; 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,
turned it as she had wished. When Fin saw this, he felt the sweat of
fear 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 are so civil, maybe you'd do another
obliging turn for us, as Fin's not here to do it himself. You see,
after this long stretch of dry weather we've had, we feel very badly
off for want of water. Now, Fin says there's a fine spring-well
somewhere under the rocks behind the hill here 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 Cuhullin 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.
"You'll now come in," said she, "and eat a bit of such humble fare as
we can give you. Fin, even although he and you are 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. Cuhullin put one of the cakes in his mouth to take a huge
whack out of it, when he made a thundering noise, something between a
growl and a yell. "Blood and fury," he shouted; "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 again; "why here are the two best teeth in
my head gone."
"Why," said she, "that's Fin'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 Fin. Here's another cake--maybe it's
not so hard as that."
Cuhullin 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
gibbets!" 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 wakening the child in the cradle
there. There now, he's awake upon me."
Fin now gave a skirl that startled the giant, as coming from such a
youngster as he was supposed 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, Fin, whose appetite in the
meantime had been sharpened by seeing eating going forward, soon
swallowed it. Cuhullin was thunderstruck, and secretly thanked his
stars that he had the good fortune to miss meeting Fin, 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 but in his 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."
[Illustration:]
"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, Fin M'Coul."
Fin, who was dressed for the occasion as much like a boy as possible,
got up, and bringing Cuhullin out, "Are you strong?" said he.
"Thunder an' ounds!" exclaimed the other, "what a voice in so small a
chap!"
"Are you strong?" said Fin again; "are you able to squeeze water out
of that white stone?" he asked putting one into Cuhullin's hand. The
latter squeezed and squeezed the stone, but in vain.
"Ah! you're a poor creature!" said Fin. "You a giant! Give me the
stone here, and when I'll show what Fin's little son can do, you may
then judge of what my daddy himself is."
Fin then took the stone, and 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 any one 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."
Cuhullin, seeing what he had seen, was of the same opinion himself;
his knees knocked together with the terror of Fin's return, and he
accordingly hastened 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."
Fin, in the meantime, had gone into the cradle, where he lay very
quietly, his heart at his mouth with delight that Cuhullin was about
to take his departure, without discovering the tricks that had 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 Cuhullin; "divil a thing else he'd make of me; but
before I go, will you let me feel what kind of teeth Fin's lad has got
that can eat griddle-bread like that?"
"With all pleasure in life," said she; "only as they're far back in
his head, you must put your finger a good way in."
Cuhullin was surprised to find such a powerful set of grinders in one
so young; but he was still much more so on finding, when he took his
hand from Fin'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 Fin wanted, who
now knew that his most powerful and bitterest enemy was at his mercy.
He started out of the cradle, and in a few minutes the great Cuhullin,
that was for such a length of time the terror of him and all his
followers, lay a corpse before him. Thus did Fin, through the wit and
invention of Oonagh, his wife, succeed in overcoming his enemy by
cunning, which he never could have done by force.
Fair, Brown, and Trembling
King Hugh Curucha lived in Tir Conal, and he had three daughters,
whose names were Fair, Brown, and Trembling.
Fair and Brown had new dresses, and went to church every Sunday.
Trembling was kept at home to do the cooking and work. They would not
let her go out of the house at all; for she was more beautiful than
the other two, and they were in dread she might marry before
themselves.
They carried on in this way for seven years. At the end of seven years
the son of the king of Emania fell in love with the eldest sister.
One Sunday morning, after the other two had gone to church, the old
henwife came into the kitchen to Trembling, and said: "It's at church
you ought to be this day, instead of working here at home."
"How could I go?" said Trembling. "I have no clothes good enough to
wear at church; and if my sisters were to see me there, they'd kill me
for going out of the house."
"I'll give you," said the henwife, "a finer dress than either of them
has ever seen. And now tell me what dress will you have?"
"I'll have," said Trembling, "a dress as white as snow, and green
shoes for my feet."
Then the henwife put on the cloak of darkness, clipped a piece from
the old clothes the young woman had on, and asked for the whitest
robes in the world and the most beautiful that could be found, and a
pair of green shoes.
That moment she had the robe and the shoes, and she brought them to
Trembling, who put them on. When Trembling was dressed and ready, the
henwife said: "I have a honey-bird here to sit on your right shoulder,
and a honey-finger to put on your left. At the door stands a
milk-white mare, with a golden saddle for you to sit on, and a golden
bridle to hold in your hand."
Trembling sat on the golden saddle; and when she was ready to start,
the henwife said: "You must not go inside the door of the church, and
the minute the people rise up at the end of Mass, do you make off, and
ride home as fast as the mare will carry you."
When Trembling came to the door of the church there was no one inside
who could get a glimpse of her but was striving to know who she was:
and when they saw her hurrying away at the end of Mass, they ran out
to overtake her. But no use in their running; she was away before any
man could come near her. From the minute she left the church till she
got home, she overtook the wind before her, and outstripped the wind
behind.
She came down at the door, went in, and found the henwife had dinner
ready. She put off the white robes, and had on her old dress in a
twinkling.
When the two sisters came home the henwife asked: "Have you any news
to-day from the church?"
"We have great news," said they. "We saw a wonderful grand lady at the
church-door. The like of the robes she had we have never seen on woman
before. It's little that was thought of our dresses beside what she
had on; and there wasn't a man at the church, from the king to the
beggar, but was trying to look at her and know who she was."
The sisters would give no peace till they had two dresses like the
robes of the strange lady; but honey-birds and honey-fingers were not
to be found.
Next Sunday the two sisters went to church again and left the youngest
at home to cook the dinner.
After they had gone, the henwife came in and asked: "Will you go to
church to-day?"
"I would go," said Trembling, "if I could get the going."
"What robe will you wear?" asked the henwife.
"The finest black satin that can be found, and red shoes for my feet."
"What colour do you want the mare to be?"
"I want her to be so black and so glossy that I can see myself in her
body."
The henwife put on the cloak of darkness, and asked for the robes and
the mare. That moment she had them. When Trembling was dressed, the
henwife put the honey-bird on her right shoulder and the
honey-finger on her left. The saddle on the mare was silver, and so
was the bridle.
[Illustration: "TREMBLING" AT THE CHURCH DOOR]
When Trembling sat in the saddle and was going away, the henwife
ordered her strictly not to go inside the door of the church, but to
rush away as soon as the people rose at the end of Mass, and hurry
home on the mare before any man could stop her.
That Sunday the people were more astonished than ever, and gazed at
her more than the first time; and all they were thinking of was to
know who she was. But they had no chance; for the moment the people
rose at the end of Mass she slipped from the church, was in the silver
saddle, and home before a man could stop her or talk to her.
The henwife had the dinner ready. Trembling took off her satin robe,
and had on her old clothes before her sisters got home.
"What news have you to-day?" asked the henwife of the sisters when
they came from the church.
"Oh, we saw the grand strange lady again. And it's little that any man
could think of our dresses after looking at the robes of satin that
she had on! And all at church, from high to low, had their mouths
open, gazing at her, and no man was looking at us."
The two sisters gave neither rest nor peace till they got dresses as
nearly like the strange lady's robes as they could find. Of course
they were not so good; for the like of those robes could not be found
in Erin.
When the third Sunday came, Fair and Brown went to church dressed in
black satin. They left Trembling at home to work in the kitchen, and
told her to be sure and have dinner ready when they came back.
After they had gone and were out of sight, the henwife came to the
kitchen and said: "Well, my dear, are you for church to-day?"
"I would go if I had a new dress to wear."
"I'll get you any dress you ask for. What dress would you like?" asked
the henwife.
"A dress red as a rose from the waist down, and white as snow from the
waist up; a cape of green on my shoulders; and a hat on my head with a
red, a white, and a green feather in it; and shoes for my feet with
the toes red, the middle white, and the backs and heels green."
The henwife put on the cloak of darkness, wished for all these things,
and had them. When Trembling was dressed, the henwife put the
honey-bird on her right shoulder and the honey-finger on her left,
and, placing the hat on her head, clipped a few hairs from one lock
and a few from another with her scissors, and that moment the most
beautiful golden hair was flowing down over the girl's shoulders. Then
the henwife asked what kind of a mare she would ride. She said white,
with blue and gold-coloured diamond-shaped spots all over her body, on
her back a saddle of gold, and on her head a golden bridle.
The mare stood there before the door, and a bird sitting between her
ears, which began to sing as soon as Trembling was in the saddle, and
never stopped till she came home from the church.
The fame of the beautiful strange lady had gone out through the
world, and all the princes and great men that were in it came to
church that Sunday, each one hoping that it was himself would have her
home with him after Mass.
The son of the king of Emania forgot all about the eldest sister, and
remained outside the church, so as to catch the strange lady before
she could hurry away.
The church was more crowded than ever before, and there were three
times as many outside. There was such a throng before the church that
Trembling could only come inside the gate.
As soon as the people were rising at the end of Mass, the lady slipped
out through the gate, was in the golden saddle in an instant, and
sweeping away ahead of the wind. But if she was, the prince of Emania
was at her side, and, seizing her by the foot, he ran with the mare
for thirty perches, and never let go of the beautiful lady till the
shoe was pulled from her foot, and he was left behind with it in his
hand. She came home as fast as the mare could carry her, and was
thinking all the time that the henwife would kill her for losing the
shoe.
Seeing her so vexed and so changed in the face, the old woman asked:
"What's the trouble that's on you now?"
"Oh! I've lost one of the shoes off my feet," said Trembling.
"Don't mind that; don't be vexed," said the henwife; "maybe it's the
best thing that ever happened to you." Then Trembling gave up all the
things she had to the henwife, put on her old clothes, and went to
work in the kitchen. When the sisters came home, the henwife asked:
"Have you any news from the church?"
"We have indeed," said they, "for we saw the grandest sight to-day.
The strange lady came again, in grander array than before. On herself
and the horse she rode were the finest colours of the world, and
between the ears of the horse was a bird which never stopped singing
from the time she came till she went away. The lady herself is the
most beautiful woman ever seen by man in Erin."
After Trembling had disappeared from the church, the son of the king
of Emania said to the other kings' sons: "I will have that lady for my
own."
They all said: "You didn't win her just by taking the shoe off her
foot; you'll have to win her by the point of the sword; you'll have to
fight for her with us before you can call her your own."
"Well," said the son of the king of Emania, "when I find the lady that
shoe will fit, I'll fight for her, never fear, before I leave her to
any of you."
Then all the kings' sons were uneasy, and anxious to know who was she
that lost the shoe; and they began to travel all over Erin to know
could they find her. The prince of Emania and all the others went in a
great company together, and made the round of Erin; they went
everywhere,--north, south, east, and west. They visited every place
where a woman was to be found, and left not a house in the kingdom
they did not search, to know could they find the woman the shoe would
fit, not caring whether she was rich or poor, of high or low degree.
The prince of Emania always kept the shoe; and when the young women
saw it, they had great hopes, for it was of proper size, neither large
nor small, and it would beat any man to know of what material it was
made. One thought it would fit her if she cut a little from her great
toe; and another, with too short a foot, put something in the tip of
her stocking. But no use; they only spoiled their feet, and were
curing them for months afterwards.
The two sisters, Fair and Brown, heard that the princes of the world
were looking all over Erin for the woman that could wear the shoe, and
every day they were talking of trying it on; and one day Trembling
spoke up and said: "Maybe it's my foot that the shoe will fit."
"Oh, the breaking of the dog's foot on you! Why say so when you were
at home every Sunday?"
They were that way waiting, and scolding the younger sister, till the
princes were near the place. The day they were to come, the sisters
put Trembling in a closet, and locked the door on her. When the
company came to the house, the prince of Emania gave the shoe to the
sisters. But though they tried and tried, it would fit neither of
them.
"Is there any other young woman in the house?" asked the prince.
"There is," said Trembling, speaking up in the closet; "I'm here."
"Oh! we have her for nothing but to put out the ashes," said the
sisters.
But the prince and the others wouldn't leave the house till they had
seen her; so the two sisters had to open the door. When Trembling came
out, the shoe was given to her, and it fitted exactly.
The prince of Emania looked at her and said: "You are the woman the
shoe fits, and you are the woman I took the shoe from."
Then Trembling spoke up, and said: "Do you stay here till I return."
Then she went to the henwife's house. The old woman put on the cloak
of darkness, got everything for her she had the first Sunday at
church, and put her on the white mare in the same fashion. Then
Trembling rode along the highway to the front of the house. All who
saw her the first time said: "This is the lady we saw at church."
Then she went away a second time, and a second time came back on the
black mare in the second dress which the henwife gave her. All who saw
her the second Sunday said: "That is the lady we saw at church."
A third time she asked for a short absence, and soon came back on the
third mare and in the third dress. All who saw her the third time
said: "That is the lady we saw at church." Every man was satisfied and
knew that she was the woman.
Then all the princes and great men spoke up, and said to the son of
the king of Emania: "You'll have to fight now for her before we let
her go with you."
"I'm here before you, ready for combat," answered the prince.
Then the son of the king of Lochlin stepped forth. The struggle began,
and a terrible struggle it was. They fought for nine hours; and then
the son of the king of Lochlin stopped, gave up his claim, and left
the field. Next day the son of the king of Spain fought six hours, and
yielded his claim. On the third day the son of the king of Nyerfoi
fought eight hours, and stopped. The fourth day the son of the king of
Greece fought six hours, and stopped. On the fifth day no more strange
princes wanted to fight; and all the sons of kings in Erin said they
would not fight with a man of their own land, that the strangers had
had their chance, and, as no others came to claim the woman, she
belonged of right to the son of the king of Emania.
The marriage-day was fixed, and the invitations were sent out. The
wedding lasted for a year and a day. When the wedding was over, the
king's son brought home the bride, and when the time came a son was
born. The young woman sent for her eldest sister, Fair, to be with her
and care for her. One day, when Trembling was well, and when her
husband was away hunting, the two sisters went out to walk; and when
they came to the seaside, the eldest pushed the youngest sister in. A
great whale came and swallowed her.
The eldest sister came home alone, and the husband asked, "Where is
your sister?"
"She has gone home to her father in Ballyshannon; now that I am well,
I don't need her."
"Well," said the husband, looking at her, "I'm in dread it's my wife
that was gone."
"Oh! no," said she; "it's my sister Fair that's gone."
Since the sisters were very much alike, the prince was in doubt. That
night he put his sword between them, and said: "If you are my wife,
this sword will get warm; if not, it will stay cold."
[Illustration:]
In the morning when he rose up, the sword was as cold as when he put
it there.