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diff --git a/75537-h/75537-h.htm b/75537-h/75537-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dcf9247 --- /dev/null +++ b/75537-h/75537-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2308 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Wurra-Wurra | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +a { + text-decoration: none; +} + +body { + margin: auto; + max-width: 45em; +} + +h1,h2 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +h2.nobreak { + page-break-before: avoid; +} + +hr { + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb { + width: 45%; + margin-left: 27.5%; + margin-right: 27.5%; +} + +hr.chap { + width: 65%; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; +} + +img.w100 { + width: 100%; +} + +div.chapter { + page-break-before: always; +} + +p { + margin-top: 0.5em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; + text-indent: 1em; +} + +table { + margin: 1em auto 1em auto; + max-width: 40em; + border-collapse: collapse; +} + +td { + padding-left: 2.25em; + padding-right: 0.25em; + vertical-align: top; + text-indent: -2em; +} + +.tdpg { + vertical-align: bottom; + text-align: right; + white-space: nowrap; +} + +.caption p { + text-align: center; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0em; +} + +.center { + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; +} + +.clearboth { + clear: both; +} + +/* first page */ + +#page { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + max-width: 31.25em; + max-height: 35em; +} + +#illus01 { + width: 100%; + z-index: -1; + margin: 0; + padding: 0; +} + +#text { + position: relative; + top: -24em; + left: 10.25em; + width: 21em; + margin-bottom: -22em; +} + +p.dropcap { + text-indent: 0em; +} + +p.dropcap:first-letter { + color: transparent; + visibility: hidden; + margin-left: -0.9em; +} + +/* end first page */ + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.notes p { + padding-left: 2em; + text-indent: -2em; +} + +.notes p.sub { + padding-left: 2em; + text-indent: 1em; +} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + right: 4%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; +} + +.poetry-container { + text-align: center; +} + +.poetry { + display: inline-block; + text-align: left; +} + +.poetry .stanza { + margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; +} + +.poetry .verse { + padding-left: 3em; +} + +.poetry .indent0 { + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poetry .indent4 { + text-indent: -1em; +} + +.smaller { + font-size: 80%; +} + +.smcap { + font-variant: small-caps; + font-style: normal; +} + +.allsmcap { + font-variant: small-caps; + font-style: normal; + text-transform: lowercase; +} + +.tb { + margin-top: 2em; +} + +.titlepage { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 3em; + text-indent: 0em; +} + +.x-ebookmaker img { + max-width: 100%; + width: auto; + height: auto; +} + +.x-ebookmaker .poetry { + display: block; + margin-left: 1.5em; +} + +.x-ebookmaker #page { + text-align: justify; + max-width: none; + max-height: none; +} + +.x-ebookmaker #illus01 { + width: auto; + z-index: auto; + margin: auto; +} + +.x-ebookmaker #text { + position: static; + top: 0; + left: 0; + width: auto; + margin-bottom: auto; +} + +.x-ebookmaker img.dropcap { + display: none; +} + +.x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { + color: inherit; + visibility: visible; + margin-left: 0; +} + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowp100 {width: 100%;} +.illowp18 {width: 18%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp18 {width: 100%;} +.illowp22 {width: 22%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp22 {width: 100%;} +.illowp30 {width: 30%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp30 {width: 100%;} +.illowp43 {width: 43%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp43 {width: 100%;} +.illowp50 {width: 50%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp50 {width: 100%;} +.illowp54 {width: 54%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp54 {width: 100%;} +.illowp64 {width: 64%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp64 {width: 100%;} +.illowp65 {width: 65%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp65 {width: 100%;} +.illowp70 {width: 70%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp70 {width: 100%;} +.illowp75 {width: 75%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp75 {width: 100%;} +.illowp80 {width: 80%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp80 {width: 100%;} +.illowp90 {width: 90%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp90 {width: 100%;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75537 ***</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1"></a>[1]</span></p> + +<h1>WURRA-WURRA</h1> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"></a>[2]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp65" id="fp01" style="max-width: 32.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/fp01.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p>GROTTO AND IMAGE OF WURRA-WURRA</p> + <p>Drawn by John Innes, from his reconstruction of this very + ancient Celtic Idol, as described in the Legend.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3"></a>[3]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp64" id="titlepage" style="max-width: 37.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="Image of the illustrated + title page. Text reads: WURRA-WURRA / A LEGEND OF SAINT PATRICK AT TARA / HERE + FIRST TRANSCRIBED AND COMPARED WITH THE TESTIMONY OF ANCIENT RECORDS AND + MODERN HISTORICAL RESEARCH / By CURTIS DUNHAM / AUTHOR OF “THE GOLDEN + GOBLIN,” ETC. / WITH ILLUSTRATIONS, INCLUDING A RECONSTRUCTION OF THE VERY + ANCIENT CELTIC IDOL CALLED WURRA-WURRA / By JOHN INNES / NEW YORK / DESMOND + FITZGERALD, INC. / PUBLISHERS"> +</figure> + +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"></a>[4]</span></p> + +<p class="titlepage "><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1911,<br> +By Desmond FitzGerald, Inc.</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>[5]</span></p> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="center allsmcap">TO THOSE DESCENDANTS<br> +OF THE O’SHAUGHNESSY WHO PRESERVED<br> +THIS LEGEND OF ST. PATRICK AT TARA;<br> +TO THE MEMORY OF FATHER O’SHAUGHNESSY,<br> +FROM WHOM IT WAS RECEIVED ORALLY; AND<br> +TO THE ANTI-WORRY SOCIETIES OF<br> +CHRISTENDOM, THIS TRANSCRIPT<br> +IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED</p> + +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>[6]</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="FULL-PAGE_ILLUSTRATIONS">FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +</div> + +<table> + <tr> + <td>Grotto and Image of Wurra-Wurra</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#fp01"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td></td> + <td class="tdpg smaller"><i>Facing page</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Patrick casting down Cromm Cruach and the twelve smaller idols</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#fp02">12</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Keth, Patrick’s Strong Man, describing to Finola the virtues of his handstone</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#fp03">20</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Keth Mac Maragh in the bog, beset by the wizard spells of Lochru</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#fp04">38</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Keth recites the Brehon Law to Dubthach Mac na Lugair and his debtor</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#fp05">44</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Dubthach, the Royal Shanachy, driving home the price of his poems</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#fp06">48</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Far down Glanngalt Keth sees the torches flaming about the Grotto of Wurra-Wurra</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#fp07">52</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>With his mighty handstone, defying Lochru, Keth shatters the idol Wurra-Wurra</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#fp08">62</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Finola runs to Keth and delivers an urgent message from Patrick</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#fp09">64</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Keth, in the shattered idol’s place, hears Finola’s great worry</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#fp10">76</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Patrick marries and blesses Keth and Finola of the White Shoulder</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#fp11">78</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a>[8]</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span></p> + +<div class="chapter" id="page"> + +<figure id="illus01"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus01.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<div id="text"> + +<p class="dropcap">’Twas in the days whin the good +Patrick of Armagh slept with +wan eye open, owin’ to the murderous +desire of a bunch of haythin +magicians to hang onto +their jobs at the court of King +Laeghaire. There was the +chief royal wizard, Lochru by +name, an’ two other divil-sint +Druid priests, namely Caplait +an’ Lucat-Moel, who hild the +graft of makin’ wise haythins +of Ethne the Fair an’ Fedelm +the Ruddy, the King’s two +daughters an’ the twin apples +of his eye; an’ between the +three of thim, with the King lookin’ their +way wan day an’ Patrick’s way the next, the +spells of wind an’ water an’ black magic the +good Patrick had to circumvint were sure a +caution.</p> + +</div> + +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>[10]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus02" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus02.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figright illowp75" id="illus03" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus03.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Now Patrick, bein’ a gintleman and the +guest of King Laeghaire at Tara, could not<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span> +turn himself loose on mimbers +of the King’s own household. +All the same, if he was to clane +up Ireland, Druids, snakes an’ +all, ’twas important to begin +by convertin’ the King. So he was goin’ +easy like, wan day miltin’ Laeghaire to tears +with his iloquence, an’ alas! the nixt day +findin’ the King bowin’ down to the great +gold an’ silver idol, Cromm Cruach, which +stood on the plain near Tara surrounded by +twilve smaller idols of brass an’ tin. ’Twas<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>[12]</span> +a case of Cromm Cruach against Patrick an’ +the Four Gospils with the odds even.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus04" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus04.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figleft illowp75" id="illus05" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus05.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Wan thing was plain, Cromm Cruach the +big idol, an’ all the little idols must go. So +wan day, in the prisence of King Laeghaire +an’ all his household an’ a great multitude +of the people, Patrick raised his staff before +Cromm Cruach, an’ in the twinklin’ of an +eye the big idol an’ all the little idols sank +into the plain up to their necks. ’Twas a +miracle the like of which had niver been +seen in Ireland. An’ King Laeghaire, seein’ +that all the spells of his Druid magicians +could not raise up Cromm Cruach again, +nor even the smallest of the little idols, became +a Christian on the spot.</p> + +<p>Observin’ the same, old Lochru the wizard +fell to ragin’ an’ tearin’ out his long whiskers<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span> +by handfuls. Caplait an’ Lucat-Moel were +frothin’ at the mouth because of their fat +jobs gone a-glimmerin’. ’Twas a great day +for the good Patrick, barrin’ the prisint +failure of the multitude to follow the example +of the King.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp65" id="fp02" style="max-width: 32.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/fp02.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p><i>Patrick casting down Cromm Cruach and the + twelve smaller idols</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus06" style="max-width: 15.625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus06.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Instead of fallin’ on their knees to receive +the blissin’ of Patrick as he stood there with +Sechnall his bishop, Erc his judge, an’ Presbiter +Bescna his chaplain, all in their church +vestmints, the people turned their faces to +the West as wan man, beat upon their brists +an’ cried out: “O, Wurra-Wurra!” In their +mixture of ancient Irish an’ Gaelic (which +was the common speech in those days), three +times they cried: “O, Wurra-Wurra!” before +they would let Patrick bliss an’ disperse +thim.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>[14]</span></p> + +<p>Now there was in Patrick’s train Keth +Mac Maragh, his strong man, the same that +carried him on his back through the bogs +an’ was his champion whin it came to fightin’ +barbarians who would not accept the Gospil +with whole heads. Keth was moreover a +bit of a shanachy, or story-teller, in his way, +with a head full of the old tales an’ histories +set down in the Book of the Dun Cow, +which made him the frind of ivery small +boy wheriver Patrick carried on the good<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span> +work. So whin he heard the multitude cry +out: “O, Wurra-Wurra!” at the downfall +of Cromm Cruach, Keth was disturbed in +his mind. Niver before had he heard those +words of lamentation uttered by a multitude +all in spontaneous accord. Yet in the +mouths of sorrowin’ girls forsaken by their +lovers, an’ old women at a wake or grievin’ +over sheep with the foot-rot, they were +words as familiar in Patrick’s time as they +are to this day.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus07" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus07.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>[16]</span></p> + +<figure class="figleft illowp30" id="illus08" style="max-width: 12.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus08.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figright illowp65" id="illus09" style="max-width: 6.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus09.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>But the thing that +most disturbed the +mind of Keth Mac +Maragh was the sight +of Finola of the White +Shoulder, wan of Patrick’s +three embroideresses—which +means a +Christian mimber of +Patrick’s own household—turnin’ +her pretty +face to the West with +the multitude an’ joinin’ +in the cry of “Wurra-Wurra!” +’Twas sure +a haythin act, an’ as +Keth had been for a +long time swate on this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span> +same Finola, findin’ her white +shoulder a plisant place to rist his +head on, he wint speedily an’ taxed +her with it.</p> + +<p>But Finola only hung her pretty +head an’ was silent.</p> + +<figure class="figright illowp80" id="illus10" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus10.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“Finola,” says Keth, “ye ought +to be ashamed of yoursilf, you a +mimber of the good Patrick’s +household an’ a ’broiderer of the +sacred vestmints.”</p> + +<p>Niver a word answered Finola, +but only hung her head the lower.</p> + +<p>Then said Keth Mac Maragh +with a keen look at the girl:</p> + +<p>“Finola, ’tis yoursilf has told the +truth though not a word has passed +your lips. Cromm Cruach, which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>[18]</span> +our good Patrick has overthrown, +was not the only +great false god in Ireland.”</p> + +<div class="clearboth"> + +<figure class="figleft illowp22" id="illus11" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus11.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figright illowp22" id="illus12" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus12.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Now the girl appeared +startled, but her head still +drooped an’ she answered +neither yes nor no. With a +smile half hid by the hair on +his lip, Keth spoke sternly +to her:</p> + +<p>“Finola, I have it from +your own lips that you came +to Patrick at Tara from your +people over in the West +country. ’Tis over in the +West stands another great +idol, an’ the name of it is +Wurra-Wurra.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>[19]</span></p> + +<p>At these words Finola +began trimbling violently, +though she spoke no word, +an’ her head still drooped. +Keth Mac Maragh showed +the girl no mercy.</p> + +<p>“’Tis in my mind, Finola,” +he said, “to make +a journey over into the +West country, an’ find this +heathen god, Wurra-Wurra, +an’ cast him down even as +Patrick cast down Cromm +Cruach.”</p> + +<p>Now the girl lifted her +head and spoke up quickly: +“But you are not in orders, +Keth, an’ have no Bishop’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>[20]</span> +staff to raise against this idol—if so there be +one.”</p> + +</div> + +<p>“’Tis true I have no Bishop’s staff,” said +he, “nor do I nade wan. I have me handstone. +I have me handstone, the same that +did for Macc Cairthinn, mind ye, Finola. +An’ ’tis in me mind that the handstone that +spilled the brains of the King’s strong man +is enough to bash the countenance of a +haythin idol.”</p> + +<p>And he took the stone out of his shield to +gaze on its fine shape and feel the weight of it. +“’Twas a smaller wan,” he said, “a mere +stone from the brook with no virtue whativer, +that David sunk into the forehead of Goliath.”</p> + +<p>“Is it the same,” whispered Finola with +awe in her eyes, “that gave ye the triumph +over Macc Cairthinn?”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp65" id="fp03" style="max-width: 32.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/fp03.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p><i>Keth, Patrick’s Strong Man, describing + to Finola the virtues of his handstone</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>[21]</span></p> + +<figure class="figright illowp50" id="illus13" style="max-width: 6.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus13.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“’Tis a better wan,” spoke up Keth Mac +Maragh proudly. “’Tis of fresh-slaked lime +mixed with those same brains of the King’s +strong man that I spilled with the old wan—mixed +with Macc Cairthinn’s own brains +an’ dried in the sun till it has the hardness +of flint an’ the toughness of oak. Besides—mark +this, Finola—’tis a true handstone with +all the virtues of me own Red Branch Knighthood. +An’ who can throw it fairer or +swifter than Keth Mac Maragh?”</p> + +<p>At these words Finola turned strangely +pale. Prisently she threw her arms about +the neck of Keth an’ besought him not to +journey off into that wild West country.</p> + +<figure class="figleft illowp54" id="illus14" style="max-width: 12.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus14.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“Keth, darlin’,” said she, “’tis the country +of the Badb an’ all the Dedannan furies, +where the terrible Banshees are only the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>[22]</span> +least of the bad fairies. They +will have your body an’ your +soul.” An’ then she whispered:</p> + +<figure class="figright illowp50" id="illus15" style="max-width: 6.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus15.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“Stay with Finola. She nades +ye, an’—an’ soon she’ll nade ye +sore!”</p> + +<p>Now Keth was touched with the tears of +Finola, but he was an obstinate man an’ his +mind was made up to have it for his own +great triumph and credit with Patrick, the +castin’ down of Wurra-Wurra. +’Twas true also +that he had become a trifle +weary of the white arms of +Finola forever draggin’ +about his neck. So he +threw them off gintly, +lavin’ her there on the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>[23]</span> +ground half dead with grievin’, +an’ wint straight to Patrick for +lave to go on a journey on business +of his own.</p> + +<figure class="figright illowp54" id="illus16" style="max-width: 12.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus16.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>The good Patrick, bein’ easy in +his mind an’ cheerful now that Cromm +Cruach was done for, gave Keth his lave +an’ a blissin’; an’ lest Finola’s arms should +drag at his neck again, he did not delay, +but took his shield an’ his handstone an’ +was off on his long legs +for the West country.</p> + +<figure class="figleft illowp30" id="illus17" style="max-width: 12.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus17.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Indade, ’twas well he +did not loiter, for the old +wizard Lochru had already +got wind of his interprise +an’ was brewin’ his most +divilish spells against him.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>[24]</span> +Caplait was in the same +business. ’Twas a close +call for Keth Mac +Maragh, for between +thim these two howlin’ +old wizards bossed all +the bad fairies an’ demons +an’ reptiles in +Ireland.</p> + +<p>All this, mind ye, was +before Patrick had got +ready to attind to the +snakes. The land was +full of thim. As for +fairies, good an’ bad, +at the time whin the +good Patrick landed at +Wicklow they were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"></a>[25]</span> +thicker than the people—which is worth +raymimberin’, for there were tin times as +many Irishmin in Ireland then than iver has +been since. In those days ’twas a case of +Ireland for the Irish, with the rist of the +world lookin’ on in envy an’ covetousness, +but takin’ care to kape their hands off to +save their heads.</p> + +<div class="clearboth"> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus18" style="max-width: 12.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus18.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +</div> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus19" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus19.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>There was no nade for Keth to carry meat +or drink—which was another fine thing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>[26]</span> +about Ireland in those days. At ivery crossroads +was an inn maintained at the public +expinse, for the intertainmint of travellers +without money an’ without price, an’ the +pot always a-bilin’ day an’ night. ’Twas the +shanachies an’ poets who travelled about +thicker than thieves, singin’ their songs an’ +tellin’ their tales at the courts of the kings, +that were the cause of all this hospitality, for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>[27]</span> +these gentry put on even more airs in those +days than they do now, havin’ free graft +iverywhere, so eager were the people to hear +all the news an’ the romances.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus20" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus20.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p class="tb">’Tis already towld how Keth was a bit of +a shanachy himsilf, an’ well versed in all the +wizardry of Patrick’s Druid inemies. ’Twas +a full grown man’s job, by this token, that<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>[28]</span> +old Lochru took on himsilf +in layin’ his plans to save +Wurra-Wurra from the +vi’lint hands of Patrick’s +strong man. An’ ’twill iver +be to the credit of Lochru’s +divilish subtlety that he so +near finished for poor Keth +by transformin’ himsilf into +a false shanachy an’ tacklin’ +the lad on his soft side.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus21" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus21.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Through County Armagh +an’ well into Fermanagh +Keth Mac Maragh passed +safely, livin’ free on the fat +of the land an’ kapin’ an +eye opin for signs of the old +idol Wurra-Wurra. ’Tis<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>[29]</span> +true that wance Lochru tried to beguile him +with a venomous banshee in the guise of a +beautiful maiden all smiles an improper alluremints; +but Finola’s white shoulder was +still so fresh in his mind that he only +laughed an’ bid her the time of day an’ +passed on his way.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus22" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus22.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Wance, too, Lochru sint a swarm of +sheevras—which are the most impish of all +the bad fairies—with orders +to choke Keth to death on +salmon bones as he ate his +avenin’ meal; but ’twas all in +vain, for Keth was wise an’ +kept his fingers crossed.</p> + +<figure class="figleft illowp22" id="illus23" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus23.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figright illowp22" id="illus24" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus24.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Havin’ seen the failure of +these poor experimints, +Lochru changed his face out<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>[30]</span> +of all raysimblance to himsilf, +an’ took a small Irish +harp an’ wint an’ sat on a +hillside among the shamrocks +close beside the broad +road along which he knew +Keth was soon to pass. +This was his preparation for +the grand schame that was +to hocus-pocus the idol-hunting +strong man for good +an’ all.</p> + +<p>Prisintly, as Keth Mac +Maragh hove in sight, all +tired and dusty from a hard +day of travel, Lochru, in his +guise of an old an’ decrepit +shanachy, twanged the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"></a>[31]</span> +strings of his harp an’ began to sing of past +glories whin he was royal shanachy at Tara +with four an’ twinty pupils all sheddin’ lustre +on his performance. But whin Keth came +abrist of him on the road he lifted his voice +in a sort of refrain, the substince of which +caused Patrick’s strong man to prick up his +ears an’ pinch himsilf to be sure he was +indade awake. For this was the unexpicted +purport of Lochru’s refrain:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Hail the dawn of Erin’s Golden Age,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Redeemed from Druids’ evil signs and spells.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rejoice at ancient idols overthrown</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And demons banished to their flames below.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Cromm Cruach’s head doth bow to Patrick’s power;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Great Laeghaire takes the Gospel to his heart;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No more shall idols lure the simple mind—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">E’en Wurra-Wurra’s fatal hour has struck.</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Hail Erin’s Golden Age,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Hail Patrick and the Blissed Word!”</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"></a>[32]</span></p> + +<figure class="figright illowp43" id="illus25" style="max-width: 10.9375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus25.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>An’ no sooner had the schamin’ Lochru +in his disguise exprissed these fine Christian +sintimints than Keth fell for him. Yis, +Keth Mac Maragh fell for him complately—swallowin’ +bait, hook, line an’ all.</p> + +<p>Old Lochru, pretindin’ not to observe the +prisince of the lad, was about to reel off a +few more yards of his song, but Keth fell +on his neck, sayin’:</p> + +<p>“Hiven’s blessin’s rist on ye, old man; +for ’tis indade true, as ye’ve said, that +Wurra-Wurra’s fatal hour has struck. +Tell me where to look for the owld idol +that I may bash his face with me handstone.”</p> + +<p>“Do me eyes desayve me?” said the false +shanachy, returnin’ Keth’s embrace. “No; +sure ’tis the good Patrick’s strong man that<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"></a>[33]</span> +stands before me—Keth Mac Maragh, who, +wan day, will be a bishop.”</p> + +<p>“’Tis the same,” said Keth, swellin’ with +pride at the wizard’s prophecy—for that was +Keth’s great saycrit ambition, to become a +bishop. An’ now Lochru had him hard an’ +fast. No suspicion of the false shanachy could +have been beaten into his head with an axe.</p> + +<p>“But the time passes,” said Keth; “show +me the road to Wurra-Wurra, that I may +speedily earn me bishop’s staff.”</p> + +<p>Lochru was playin’ with the lad as a cat +plays with a mouse. “Have ye no fear of the +druid wizards?” he said. “Can ye circumvint +the spells of Lochru? Are ye after thinkin’ +that Lucat-Moel an’ Caplait will let ye come +at Wurra-Wurra to do the idol harm?”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus26" style="max-width: 12.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus26.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“Divil take the wizards an’ all their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"></a>[34]</span> +spells,” answered Keth. “Sure, ’tis Keth +Mac Maragh, champion strong man an’ as +good a scholar as the bist of thim, that has +all their spells at his finger-ends. So set me +on the road to Wurra-Wurra.”</p> + +<p>“Be it so,” said Lochru. “I persayve that +ye’re already a bishop, savin’ the ordination. +’Tis well. Give heed to me words, for ’tis +growin’ dark an’ ye must travil the night +through to escape the sure destruction which +Lochru has prepared for ye.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus27" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus27.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"></a>[35]</span></p> + +<p>“Priss on your prisint way, +lad, till ye’ve rached the top +of the third wooded ridge. +There ye’ll see below ye in +the moonlight the glimmerin’ +surface of a great bog, an’ +on the farther side of the +same an owld round tower to +the right, an’ Concobar Mac +Nessa’s ruined castle to the +lift. Go straight down to the +edge of the bog an’ suddenly +ye’ll see that a fine, hard road +leads across it. Cross the +bog without fear. ’Tis a +short cut to Wurra-Wurra +over beyond the round tower, +an’ ’twill lave ye safe from<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"></a>[36]</span> +Lochru an’ all his demon immissaries. +Have ye me directions fixed clear in your +mind, lad?”</p> + +<figure class="figleft illowp22" id="illus28" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus28.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“Yis,” said Keth. “An’ may the blissin’s +of Patrick an’ all the saints rest on your +white head, vinerable owld man, for, thanks +to you, Wurra-Wurra is already as good as +done for.”</p> + +<p>The nixt minute Keth’s legs were leadin’ +him straight into the trap so cunningly set +for him, an’ old Lochru, raysumin’ his own +face an’ form, was chucklin’ into his long +whiskers.</p> + +<p class="tb">Now whin Keth came to the top of the +third ridge an’ looked down upon the great +bog, ’twas the darkest hour of the night, +whin the bad fairies are up to their worst<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"></a>[37]</span> +divilmint, an’ the dangerous elves an’ demons +attind to the summons of their masters, the +Druid wizards. From the top of the ridge +there was no sign of any road across the +bog; but Keth, full of foolish faith in the +words of the false shanachy, stopped only to +draw a full breath, an’ was off down the +slope at his top speed.</p> + +<p>An’ sure enough, as he neared the bog’s +edge, he saw before him a straight, hard +road gleamin’ in the moonlight an’ stretchin’ +clear an’ fair to the hill-slope on the farther +side. With a shout of triumph, Keth laped +forward an’ ran swiftly out upon the road +over the bog. An’ thin, all at wance, there +was no more road, an’ he found himsilf +flounderin’ up to his arm-pits in the quaking +mud of the stickiest bog in Ireland.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"></a>[38]</span></p> + +<p>An’ while he floundered he heard a peal +of faymiliar, divilish laughter from the bog’s +edge. There stood old Lochru, holdin’ his +sides an’ waggin’ his head—an’ thin, in a +flash, Keth saw it all, how he had been +hocus-pocussed by a false shanachy who was +none other than Lochru himsilf.</p> + +<p>’Twas useless to waste breath lamintin’, +or hurlin’ hard names at Lochru; Keth saw +that he had nade of it all to extricate himsilf +from the bog—which he would have done +right speedily but for the trump card the old +wizard played thin an’ there.</p> + +<p>All at wance Keth found himsilf surrounded +by a swarm of meisi—which are the +most dreadful phantoms that inhabit the +World of Darkness—summoned by the incantations +of Lochru. The sight of thim<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"></a>[39]</span> +froze Keth’s blood in his veins. For a time, +so full of terror they filled him, he could +nayther speak nor move. Manewhile, ivery +minute the bog sucked him down deeper.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp65" id="fp04" style="max-width: 32.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/fp04.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p><i>Keth Mac Maragh in the bog, beset + by the wizard spells of Lochru</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>Sure it would have been all over with +Keth Mac Maragh if, suddenly, there had +not appeared before him a vision of Patrick, +fearless in his great faith, casting down +Cromm Cruach in the very prisince of King +Laeghaire an’ the most powerful of the Druid +wizards. The vision gave him strength to +raise his voice to the glory of God an’ defiance +of the divil, so that he no longer +quaked with paralizin’ fear of the phantoms, +an’ was near strugglin’ out of the bog.</p> + +<p>Thin it was that Lochru summoned +Banba, queen of the Dedannan furies, an’ +with her diabolical aid caused Keth to be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"></a>[40]</span> +set upon by sheevras, leprechauns an’ all +manner of demoniac reptiles. All the bog +about him was covered with thim, an’ all the +air murmured and shrieked with the flapping +of demon wings. Pookas came and sat +upon his shoulders to priss him down into +the mire, while the dread Badb, in the guise +of a loathsome hag with the wings of a great +bat, shut the air from his nostrils and clawed +at his throat.</p> + +<p>Yet always, at what seemed the fatal momint, +the voice of Keth, raised in praise of +God an’ bowld defiance of the divil, so +weakened the demoniac powers that old +Lochru, raging in vain, saw the dawn approaching +an’ his triumph unaccomplished.</p> + +<p>Indade, the triumph was Keth’s, for, by +the blissin’ of heaven, he hild out. In fear<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"></a>[41]</span> +of the blastin’ rays of the sun, all at wance +his demon inemies disappeared with shrieks +of baffled vengeance, an’ old Lochru with +thim. An’ soon Keth, still praisin’ God an’ +defyin’ the divil, was out of the bog an’ +dryin’ himsilf in the sun.</p> + +<p class="tb">Whin he was dry an’ somewhat risted an’ +raycuperated after the long agonies of that +night, he retraced his steps to the road +where Lochru had beguiled him. Wan day +an’ a night he spint at an inn for food an’ +slape, while the maids claned the bog slime +from his raimint, an’ thin proceeded on his +way into the West.</p> + +<p>Not until he was out of Fermanagh an’ +well into Roscommon did he come upon +any clue to the whereabouts of Wurra-Wurra.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"></a>[42]</span> +’Twas truly strange that the right direction +should come from another shanachy—but a +rale wan this time, none other than the great +Dubthach Mac na Lugair, royal poet at the +court of the King of Connaught.</p> + +<p>Keth came upon Dubthach as the renowned +shanachy was fastin’ on a false poet +who owed him a debt for makin’ up some +rhymes which the false poet recited about +the country as his own divine afflatus. This +fakir was a failure at bog-drainin’ named +Fergus, an’ havin’ neglected to pay for the +rhymes he couldn’t make up for himself he +was shut up in his house while Dubthach +sat before his door, neither of thim eatin’ +nor drinkin’, as the custom was, till the +matter was settled. Dubthach was so pale +an’ lean from four days an’ nights of fastin’<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"></a>[43]</span> +that his tunic was all in wrinkles +about his shoulders. Fergus’ +plight was worse yet, for as he +sat by his open window with +his head in his hand he seemed only half +alive. Still ivery time Dubthach braced up +an’ called on him to pay the debt he came +back with a sharp answer.</p> + +<figure class="figright illowp100" id="illus29" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus29.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“’Tis four geese an’ a sheep ye owe me,” +said Dubthach, as Keth came up.</p> + +<p>“Ye’re a liar. ’Tis three geese an’ a pig,” +said Fergus.</p> + +<p>“The law is with me, I’ll starve the heart +out of ye,” said Dubthach.</p> + +<p>“Yer rhymes were no good, they stuck in +me throat,” said Fergus. “But I’ll pay ye +the three geese an’ the pig—or see yer bones +litterin’ me doorstep.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"></a>[44]</span></p> + +<p>Right here Keth stepped in, havin’ great +wisdom in such matters. After hearin’ both +sides he recited to ’em the Brehon law, an’ +then he said:</p> + +<p>“The both of ye are in the wrong. Fergus, +what ye owe to Dubthach is not four +geese an’ a sheep, but four geese an’ a pig.”</p> + +<p>Hearin’ this wise judgmint, Dubthach an’ +Fergus scowled fiercely at each other; but +’twas plain their jaws were achin’ to come +together on a flitch o’ bacon, an’ so Dubthach +spoke up:</p> + +<p>“Niver shall it be told of me,” he said, +“that I refused to mate an inemy half way. +Fergus, ye omadhune, open the door of +your hovel an’ let out the four geese an’ the +pig.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp65" id="fp05" style="max-width: 32.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/fp05.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p><i>Keth recites the Brehon Law to Dubthach + Mac na Lugair and his debtor</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>Which the same Fergus did, with a string<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"></a>[45]</span> +tied to the leg of each of ’em for Dubthach +to drive ’em home with. An’ Dubthach, +with the pig an’ the four geese safe in hand, +turned an’ howled back at Fergus:</p> + +<p>“As I’m lavin’ your dirty doorstep, ye +double-faced falsifier, wan word of advice: +Lave off graftin’ on your betters an’ get +back to your bog-drainin’.” To Keth Mac +Maragh who walked beside him he said:</p> + +<p>“Niver mintion it to Fergus, but ye’ve +done me a service this day. Faith, I was +that far gone with the fast I could feel +me backbone through me stomach! An’ +now me good frind tell me how I can +square the account between the two of us. +Will ye take two geese, or the pig?”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus30" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus30.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Now, bein’ well on into the West country, +with maybe the great god Wurra-Wurra just<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a>[46]</span> +around the turn of the nixt peat bog, Keth +felt it was a time to exercise discretion, for +the lad was as wise an’ cunning as he was +strong an’ mighty at heavin’ the handstone. +So he reflected and made this answer to +Dubthach:</p> + +<p>“Dubthach Mac na Lugair,” he said, “the +service ye say I’ve the honor of renderin’ ye +was no more than would be the duty of any +man who knew the law. Ye owe me nothin’. +But ’tis in me mind that ye could give me a +bit of advice on a private matter, an’ let it +go no further?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"></a>[47]</span></p> + +<figure class="figright illowp22" id="illus31" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus31.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“On me honor as a royal shanachy,” +said Dubthach. “Good +frind, name your trouble.”</p> + +<p>“Dubthach,” said Keth, with +his hand beside his mouth an’ his +mouth to the poet’s ear, “Dubthach, +I’ve a great weight on me +mind an’ me heart. The heft of +it is draggin’ me down in the dirt. +Night an’ day I’m sorrowin’ an’ +grievin’ the heart out of me. ’Tis +turnin’ me hair an’ loosenin’ me +teeth. It turns me food bitter in +me mouth an’ the best metheglin +sour in me throat. I can nayther +slape nor stay awake. Unless I +find relafe, in another day the +wits will be clane gone out of me.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"></a>[48]</span></p> + +<p>“Iverything I’ve tried, an’ no use at all at +all. Sure I’ve been atin’ the cresses an’ +drinkin’ the crazy people’s water of Tobernagalt +an’ Stroove Bran, but divil the bit of +forgetfulness of me trouble did it bring me. +Wan more day, good Dubthach, an’ I’ll be +a foolish, ravin’ loon with all this sore grafe +an’ worry”—</p> + +<figure class="figleft illowp22" id="illus32" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus32.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“Hold, me frind, ’tis enough,” broke in +Dubthach. “An’ ye’ve struck the right road +at last. By nightfall ye’ll rache the nixt +valley. ’Tis called Glanngalt, mind ye +(manin’ in the Gaelic the glen of the galts, +or loonatics), an’ at the bottom of the same +ye’ll come to the grotto of Wurra-Wurra, +our blissed God of Peaceful Souls. Ye’ve +only to make the three prostrations an’ +whisper your troubles into the blissed ear of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"></a>[49]</span> +Wurra-Wurra an’ they’ll all fall +from ye, lavin’ ye clane an’ +paceful an’ in your right +mind.”</p> + +<p>At these words Keth fell on +his knees an’ kissed the hand +of Dubthach that was not busy +with the geese an’ the pig, +showin’ the joy an’ gratitude +he sacretly felt for bein’ put +on the right track to come up +with an’ bash the face of this +haythin idol Wurra-Wurra. +Then he rose an’ said:</p> + +<p>“Wan thing more, good +Dubthach. Will ye find me a +guide down Glanngalt to the +grotto of Wurra-Wurra?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"></a>[50]</span></p> + +<p>“Ye’ll find a hundred of your own choice,” +said Dubthach. “Ye’ve only to enter the +valley an’ goin’ down on wan side ye’ll see +a string of wild-eyed, sorrowin’ loonatics +like yersilf—which ye’ve but to join—an’ +comin’ up on the other side ye’ll see another +string dancin’ an’ singin’ with joy because +of the worries they lift in the grotto behind +thim. Stick to the loonatics goin’ down, +an’ on the word of Dubthach ye’ll come +back dancin’ an’ singin’ with the happy wans.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp65" id="fp06" style="max-width: 32.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/fp06.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p><i>Dubthach, the Royal Shanachy, driving + home the price of his poems</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"></a>[51]</span></p> + +<p>So now Keth Mac Maragh fell on the +neck of Dubthach Mac na Lugair an’ embraced +him, an’ thin wint on his way at so +swift a gait that the early avenin’ brought +him safe into Glanngalt. ’Twas as Dubthach +had said: there was the string of +sorrowin’ min and women goin’ down on +the wan side an’ the happy dancin’ people +comin’ up on the other. An’ Keth wint +with the loonatics, an’ by dark they came to +the grotto of Wurra-Wurra that was to be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"></a>[52]</span> +seen from afar by the light of torches that +flamed all about it.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus33" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus33.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus34" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus34.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus35" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus35.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus36" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus36.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Sure it was a grand sight—barrin’ the haythin +purpose of it all. The poor loonatics +stopped their screechin’ from the moment +the torches revealed to thim the smilin’ face +of the idol, which shone from out the arch +of the grotto entrance like the moon whin +’tis full at harvest time. An’ prisintly the +first of the loonatics to prostrate thimsilves +at the feet of Wurra-Wurra were passin’<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53"></a>[53]</span> +over to the other side, singin’ an’ dancin’, +with niver a fear nor a care to worry thim.</p> + +<p>Before dawn ’twas the same with the +whole bunch. With the cobwebs brushed +clane out of the brains of thim, they were +on their way rejoicin’, lavin’ Keth Mac +Maragh alone before the idol, fingerin’ his +handstone an’ wonderin’ what manner of +spell was on him.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus37" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus37.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp65" id="fp07" style="max-width: 32.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/fp07.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p><i>Far down Glanngalt Keth sees the torches + flaming about the Grotto of Wurra-Wurra</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus38" style="max-width: 12.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus38.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>For three times Keth had raised his hand +to hurl the stone, and could not. The spirit<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"></a>[54]</span> +was with him, but the flesh was not. The +strength had gone out of his arm intirely, +an’ the fingers that held the handstone had +no more grip in thim than the little white +wans of Finola.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus39" style="max-width: 12.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus39.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“’Tis Lucat-Moel, or old Lochru, divil +take him!” said Keth to himself.</p> + +<p>He gazed about in ivery direction, but +niver a wizard nor any of their bad fairy +hilpers was about the premises. Yet the +arm that hild the handstone still hung limp +at his side, an’ his trimblin’ fingers could +scarce bear the weight of it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"></a>[55]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus40" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus40.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Now it began to pinetrate the mind of +Keth Mac Maragh that while his arm was +as heavy as lead, the soul within him was +lighter than for many a day. A horrible +fear rose within him that the Four Gospils +had lost their grip on him, an’ it was the same +with him as with the rist of the loonatics! +With the sweat standin’ on his brow, he +said a Latin prayer, an’ thin muttered to +himsilf:</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus41" style="max-width: 12.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus41.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“I will put a curse on the haythin idol. +I will curse this Wurra-Wurra as niver haythin +idol was cursed before, so that his face<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"></a>[56]</span> +will grow dull with fear an’ the strength return +to me arm.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus42" style="max-width: 15.625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus42.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>An’ he turned to curse Wurra-Wurra. +’Twas now, for the first time, he saw the +opin ears of the idol that listened day an’ +night for the gintlist whisper of troubles of +man or woman, to take the same on himsilf—an’ +thin Keth filt the full power of him. +The curse died on his lips, all desire of +curses wint out of his heart. Keth Mac +Maragh, Strong Man to the good Patrick +that was to become a blissed saint, leaned +upon his shield an’ gazed long on the image<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"></a>[57]</span> +that filled the grotto. An’ while he gazed +the soul of him drank its fill of peace and +forgetfulness of care.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus43" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus43.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>For it was true of the ancient Irish God +of Peaceful Souls, named Wurra-Wurra, that +no creature of woman born could stand before +him an’ know more of trouble in this +world. From ivery shoulder he took off the +trouble to place it upon its own, and bear it +thinceforth in token of his great love and +compassion for all with minds distrissed. +There was no nade for Keth to read the inscription +on the stone which was the idol’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a>[58]</span> +seat—which, indade, he could not, for it was +in the most ancient Irish characters. ’Twas +Bishop Erc, the same who was Judge in +Patrick’s household and a very learned man, +who afterward put it into Gaelic, which, +being translated into English, is the best of +all mottoes in the category, namely:</p> + +<p class="center allsmcap">LET WURRA WORRY</p> + +<p>There was no nade for Keth Mac Maragh +to read this inscription, for the face and +figure of the idol, an’ his wide opin ears +foriver listenin’, thimselves told the whole +story—not only that it was his business to +bear all the worries and troubles of the +world, but that he liked the job!</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus44" style="max-width: 15.625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus44.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Indade, yis. Though the weight of the +world’s worries through a hundred cinturies +had glued the stomach of him to his thighs,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"></a>[59]</span> +an’ his broad chist risted on his stomach so +that the massy shoulders were prissed nearly +down to the region of his navel, while the +heft of the troubles showered on his head +had crunched it down into his bristbone—in +spite of all the crushing weight of worries +upon him the smile he wore was like the +noon sun bursting through after a tin days’ +rain in April. ’Twas that same smile of +Wurra-Wurra that chased away all the curses +out of the heart of Keth Mac Maragh an’<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"></a>[60]</span> +brought the great peace to +his soul.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus45" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus45.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figleft illowp22" id="illus46" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus46.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figright illowp22" id="illus47" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus47.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Alas! as Keth looked upon +the idol, Patrick an’ all his glorious +works became no more +than a faded memory. He +filt himself ready to prostrate +himsilf before Wurra-Wurra +an’ whisper into the ear of him +his last small worry about Finola +of the White Shoulder—upon +which he had risted his +head more ardently than was +good for his ease of mind—whin +a well-raymimbered an’ +hated voice brought him suddenly +to himsilf.</p> + +<p>“Back, thou sacriligious<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"></a>[61]</span> +monster!” said the voice, an’ +Keth knew it for the voice +of Lochru, the wizard.</p> + +<p>Indade, the wizard, prancin’ +down the hillside into the +valley, frothin’ at the mouth +an’ all his whiskers flyin’ in +the mornin’ breeze, was only +a lape or two from the mouth +of the grotto.</p> + +<p>“Back!” he shrieked. +“Back! or I’ll blast ye with +the spell of Banba!”</p> + +<p>’Twas nothing against Keth +Mac Maragh that in his surprise +he should stand back a +few paces and raise his shield, +for old Lochru in a rage was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"></a>[62]</span> +a sight to sind children into spasms. ’Twas +a good thing, too, for the hated sight of +Lochru brought back the grateful mimory +of Patrick, an’ the strength to his arm, so +that he faced the wizard boldly, saying:</p> + +<p>“Get thee gone thou Geis of demon’s +spawn, ere I spill thy rotten brains to gain a +new handstone wherewith to destroy thy +demon masters! Irk me not, as I have +better work at hand than to bandy words +with such as thou!”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp65" id="fp08" style="max-width: 32.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/fp08.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p><i>With his mighty handstone, defying Lochru, + Keth shatters the idol Wurra-Wurra</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<figure class="figright illowp75" id="illus48" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus48.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>An’ raisin’ his handstone while the +strength was fresh again in his arm, Keth +Mac Maragh hurled it so swift and so +straight that the idol’s face—barrin’ only wan +fine ear—was shattered into a thousand +pieces. An’ Lochru, seeing that Wurra-Wurra +was no more—a headless god havin’<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"></a>[63]</span> +no further virtue in the Druid philosophy—Lochru +ran shriekin’ up the valley, to remain +until his death the craziest loonatic in Ireland.</p> + +<p class="tb">“’Tis a fine job well done,” raymarked +Keth to himsilf as he wint and raycovered +his handstone in the grotto from among the +fragmints that were wance the head of +Wurra-Wurra. “An’ now for a bit of sup +an’ drink, an’ a fine long slape.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus49" style="max-width: 28.125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus49.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"></a>[64]</span></p> + +<figure class="figleft illowp90" id="illus50" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus50.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>But ’twas nayther food nor +drink nor slape Keth Mac +Maragh was to get that day. +For he had returned on his way up Glanngalt +no more than the distance of nine +ridges whin he was stopped by a runner +comin’ down the valley with the speed of +the wind. The boy bein’ breathless, Keth +was the first to spake:</p> + +<p>“If ’tis to the King of +Connaught ye bear your +message,” he said, “sure ye’re +off your road.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp65" id="fp09" style="max-width: 32.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/fp09.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p><i>Finola runs to Keth and delivers an urgent + message from Patrick</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<figure class="figleft illowp43" id="illus51" style="max-width: 10.9375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus51.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“Keth Mac Maragh,” +panted the runner—who was +lithe an’ slender, with round +cheeks an’ a white chin—“has +the day come so soon<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65"></a>[65]</span> +whin ye forgit the face of your +own Finola?”</p> + +<figure class="figright illowp18" id="illus52" style="max-width: 7.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus52.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“What!” said Keth in astonishment, +“will ye tell me that +your haythin heresies have so +strong a howld on ye that ye’ve +lift the household an’ spiritual +guidance of the good Patrick +of Armagh?”</p> + +<p>“Nay,” said Finola. “’Tis +for Patrick sure I’m runnin’, an’ +the message is to yoursilf.”</p> + +<p>“So! ’Twas the likes of Finola +that gave me away!” And +Keth glowered darkly at the +maid.</p> + +<p>“Tell me, Keth,” she said +in anxious tones, “ye’ve not<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66"></a>[66]</span> +done it? Ye’ve not bashed the +great idol, Wurra-Wurra?”</p> + +<figure class="figleft illowp75" id="illus53" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus53.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Somethin’ towld Keth that +’twould be as well for him to +dissimble. So he answered +cunningly:</p> + +<p>“Sure the pot-bellied stone haythin sits as +firm on his sate as iver he did.”</p> + +<p>“O Wurra-Wurra!” said Finola, with +hands clasped in gratitude.</p> + +<p>“Lave off your heretical supplications,” +said Keth harshly, “an’ hand over me missage +from Patrick.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus54" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus54.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figright illowp70" id="illus55" style="max-width: 8.75em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus55.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“’Tis this,” said Finola, givin’ him a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67"></a>[67]</span> +tinder look from her eyes. +“Another bunch of poor loonatics +have started down Glanngalt +to lave their troubles with +Wurra-Wurra. Patrick follows +with his household, but too late to heal thim +with the spirit of the Four Gospils before +they feel the spell of the sacred grotto. So +ye’re to let thim, for this wance, resayve +their easemint from Wurra-Wurra, as of +old—for sure, Patrick says, the great idol is +an instrumint of God, not yet to be destroyed.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus56" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus56.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figleft illowp22" id="illus57" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus57.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figright illowp22" id="illus58" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus58.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“So be it,” said Keth, dissimbling again.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68"></a>[68]</span> +“Go you back to Patrick an’ +I will wait for ye beside the +grotto.”</p> + +<p>Finola flung hersilf upon +his neck. “’Tis like the owld +swate Keth,” she said. “Ah, +Keth, why are ye not always +true to the gintleness an’ hilpfulness +that shines in your +face so like Wurra-Wurra’s +own?”</p> + +<p class="tb">Thin she kissed him and +lift him, an’ Keth wint slowly +back to the grotto, with his +chin on his brist, wonderin’ +how he was to restore the +idol’s broken head on his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69"></a>[69]</span> +shoulders. He gathered up +the pieces an’ mixed some +clay an’ tried to patch thim +together, but ’twas no use—too +well had the handstone +done its work!</p> + +<p>An’ now Keth could hear +the fresh bunch of loonatics +comin’ shriekin’ an’ moanin’ +down the valley. ’Twas even +a worse predicamint he was +in, for, crowdin’ the loonatics +on all sides were scores an’ +hundreds of maids weepin’ +for their gallivantin’ swatehearts, +an’ old dames lamintin’ +sheep with the foot +rot, cows with calves miscast<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70"></a>[70]</span> +an’ such like troubles which ’twas in the +minds of thim to shoulder off on Wurra-Wurra.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus59" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus59.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>“Sure, ’tis a tight place I’m in,” thought +Keth Mac Maragh. “The loonatics, an’ +the maids, an’ the old women will be after +bashin’ the head of me as I bashed their +haythin idol. True, I have me handstone, +but what is wan handstone for all that crazy +bunch?”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus60" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus60.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus61" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus61.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>An’ then suddenly it flashed across his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71"></a>[71]</span> +mind about what Finola had said of his face +raysimblin’ that of Wurra-Wurra. “Sure, +’tis only the fondness of her foolish little +haythin heart,” thought Keth. But as ’twas +the only chance, an’ the first of the loonatics +bein’ now close to the grotto, Keth Mac +Maragh wint behind the headless idol an’ +leaned over with his neck in the hollow between +the shoulders which the handstone +had cut as though through a bog-cured +cheese. He brought his chin down near to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72"></a>[72]</span> +the idol’s navel, prissed the cheek of him +against the opin ear that remained so providentially, +hid his arms an’ body behind the +great bulk of the image—an’ thin upon the +face of him he spread the gintlest and tinderest +smile that was in him.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus62" style="max-width: 12.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus62.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Sure it was all the same to the loonatics. +Indade, it seemed an improvement. For, +no sooner did a daft wan catch the twinkle +in Keth’s eye than the twisted brains of him<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73"></a>[73]</span> +were all straightened out an’ he passed on +rejoicin’. As the last of the crazy wans +were droppin’ their troubles on Wurra-Wurra, +Keth saw that Patrick an’ his followers +had rached the bottom of the valley, +where the blissed saint that was to be, surrounded +by his bishops and his priests and +his psalmists, all in their vestmints, was +prachin’ the Gospil an’ making converts of +iverybody.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus63" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus63.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus64" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus64.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74"></a>[74]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus65" style="max-width: 15.625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus65.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>All the while Keth grew bolder with his +smile an’ the twinkle in his eye. Whin it +came to the turn of the old dames with their +cow-yard troubles, siveral times he forgot +himsilf so far as to smile aloud. Indade, +more than wan full-stomached guffaw did he +give in the face of thim, an’ got away with +it, so rayjoiced they were with the lightness +of heart that Wurra-Wurra gave thim.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus66" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus66.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus67" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus67.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus68" style="max-width: 15.625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus68.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Whin it came to the sorrowin’ maids with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75"></a>[75]</span> +their sad tales on their swatehearts, beyond +a wink or two at the prettiest Keth was +moved to restrain himsilf. For sure, many +were the pitiful tales of loving maids’ +troubles they poured in his ear! Tales they +were that made his heart sore, an’ disturbed +his mind with recollictions of strange words +lately dropped by Finola of the White +Shoulder. ’Twas this new light on those +same words that now caused Keth Mac<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76"></a>[76]</span> +Maragh to forget for a momint +the smile of Wurra-Wurra, +an’ to close his eyes +with the pain of the thought +that came to him.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp22" id="illus69" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus69.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp65" id="fp10" style="max-width: 32.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/fp10.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p><i>Keth, in the shattered idol’s place, + hears Finola’s great worry</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p class="tb">An’ whin Keth opened his +eyes the last of the maids was +prostrated before him—an’ +she was Finola! Quickly—though +his soul quaked—he +raycalled the smile of Wurra-Wurra +to his face. ’Twas +none too soon, for Finola, +risen to her feet an’ leanin’ +over, was pourin’ into the +idol’s ear all the grafe an’ +dread that clutched her heart.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77"></a>[77]</span> +From Finola’s lips the tale was like a white-hot +iron in Keth’s vitals. Yet it made his +heart swell an’ rache out to her so that he +could not restrain himsilf, but turned his head +an’ put his lips to hers in a kiss that dropped +her like wan dead at the idol’s feet.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus70" style="max-width: 15.625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus70.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus71" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus71.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p>Now Keth Mac Maragh knew what it was +for him to do, an’ he rayjoiced to do it +quickly. He came out from behind the +shattered idol, an’ lifted the limp form of +Finola in his arms, an’ bore her swiftly<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78"></a>[78]</span> +through the press of people +up to Patrick himsilf, an’ +said:</p> + +<p>“Good Patrick of Armagh, +this maid gave her +swate silf to me more suns +gone by than it pleases me +to raymimber. As thy faithful +follower, an’ for the +honor of thy household, I +pray you now give her to me +in the name of our Holy +Church an’ in the sight of +all min.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp65" id="fp11" style="max-width: 32.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/fp11.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p><i>Patrick marries and blesses Keth and + Finola of the White Shoulder</i></p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>An’ Patrick, seein’ how +the matter lay—Finola bein’ +raycovered from her swoon +an’ clingin’ tight to Keth—thin<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79"></a>[79]</span> +an’ there married an’ +blissed thim.</p> + +<figure class="figleft illowp22" id="illus72" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus72.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<figure class="figright illowp22" id="illus73" style="max-width: 9.375em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus73.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<p class="tb">’Tis towld in the books +how Keth became a bishop, +though niver would he altogether +lay aside the handstone +which had lain low +the last idol in Ireland, an’ +how all the four fine sons +that Finola bore him were +sure death to snakes an’ +Druid wizards till not wan +of ayther was lift in the +land.</p> + +<p>Concernin’ the grotto, an’ +the headless idol in it, all +there prisint bein’ now convertid<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80"></a>[80]</span> +Christians, by their own free will they +prisintly destroyed ivery vistige of both. +Yet to this day there remains on the lips of +all the Irish race in time of trouble or worry +that same ancient invocation: “O Wurra-Wurra!”</p> + +<p>An’ the ixplanation is Patrick’s own desire +that it should be so. For, as he raymarked +upon that occasion, Wurra-Wurra, as spoken +in the Gaelic, is the same as wan calling +upon the blissid Virgin, “O Mary!” in that +tongue.</p> + +<p class="titlepage">FINIS.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus74" style="max-width: 15.625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus74.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81"></a>[81]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp65" id="illus75" style="max-width: 21.875em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus75.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p>WURRA-WURRA</p> + <p>From a Photograph of the original wax model of the reconstructed + Idol.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>“Ye’ve only to whisper your worries into the blissed +ear of Wurra-Wurra an’ they’ll all fall from ye, lavin’ +ye clane an’ paceful an’ in your right mind.”—<i>Legend +of Wurra-Wurra.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82"></a>[82]</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83"></a>[83]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="HISTORICAL_NOTES">HISTORICAL NOTES</h2> + +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84"></a>[84]</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85"></a>[85]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="HISTORICAL_NOTES_ON_THE_LEGEND">HISTORICAL NOTES ON THE LEGEND</h2> + +</div> + +<div class="notes"> + +<p><span class="smcap">Banba</span> (<a href="#Page_39">p. 39</a>): “Banba, the queen of one of the three +Dedannan princes, who ruled the land, sent a swarm +of meisa, or phantoms, which froze the blood of the +invaders (the Milesians) with terror.”—<i>Joyce’s +Social History of Ancient Ireland.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bog-cured Cheese</span> (<a href="#Page_72">p. 72</a>): “Masses of cheese have +been found in bogs, of which some specimens may +be seen in the National Museum.”—<i>Joyce’s Social +History.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Book of the Dun Cow</span> (<a href="#Page_14">p. 14</a>): “One of the most +ancient collections of Irish historical and legendary +material, curiously named for the color of the cow +in whose tanned skin it was bound.”—<i>Joyce.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Brehon Law</span> (<a href="#Page_44">p. 44</a>): “A judge was called a Brehon.... +The Brehons had absolutely in their hands the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86"></a>[86]</span> +interpretation of the laws and the application of +them to individual cases.”—<i>Joyce.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cromm Cruach</span> (<a href="#Page_11">p. 11</a>): “Cromm Cruach, covered +with gold and silver, and twelve other idols covered +with brass about him.”—<i>Tripartite Life of St. +Patrick.</i></p> + +<p class="sub">“And the earth swallowed up the twelve other +images as far as their heads, and they stand thus in +token of the miracle.”—<i>Book of Armagh.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dedannan Furies</span> (<a href="#Page_22">p. 22</a>): “A mythical race of +powerful, demoniac and dangerous elves.”—<i>Joyce.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Demons</span>, <span class="smcap">Wizards</span>, <span class="smcap">Druids</span> (<a href="#Page_24">p. 24</a>): All the ancient +accounts agree that while the Druids were the only +educators in the Ireland of their time, they were also +magicians and wizards, and could command the services +of demons and fairies, good and bad.—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p class="sub">“The demons used to show themselves unto their +worshippers in visible forms: they often attacked +the people, and they were seen flying in the air and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87"></a>[87]</span> +walking on the earth, loathsome and horrible to +behold.”—<i>Joyce.</i></p> + +<p class="sub">“God protect me from the spells of women +(Druidesses) and Smiths, and Druids.”—<i>St. Patrick’s +Hymn.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dubthach mac na Lugair</span> (<a href="#Page_42">p. 42</a>): Here the Legend +does not quite agree with the authorities. Instead +of being attached to the court of the King +of Connaught, he was royal poet and shanachy at +Tara during the greater part of Laeghaire’s reign +as Over-King of Ireland.—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ethne the Fair, and Fedelm the Ruddy</span> (<a href="#Page_9">p. 9</a>): +In the “Tripartite Life of St. Patrick” and in the +“Book of Armagh,” these two daughters of King +Laeghaire are mentioned as being under the instruction +of the Druid priests, Caplait and Lucat-Moel, +at the time when Patrick overthrew Cromm Cruach +and the twelve smaller idols and made Christian +converts of the entire royal family.—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88"></a>[88]</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Finola of the White Shoulder</span> (<a href="#Page_16">p. 16</a>): A heroine +of the “Book of Armagh.” Evidently the Legend +mistakes her for Cruimthiris, mentioned in the +“Tripartite Life” as one of the three embroideresses +in Patrick’s household.</p> + +<p class="sub">(<a href="#Page_79">P. 79</a>): The reference to the four sons of Finola +of the White Shoulder is clearly legendary.—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fasting to Collect a Debt</span> (<a href="#Page_42">p. 42</a>): “The plaintiff, +having served due notice, went to the house of the +defendant, and, sitting before the door, remained +there without food; and as long as he remained, the +defendant was also obliged to fast.”—<i>Joyce.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Geis</span> (<a href="#Page_62">p. 62</a>): “A geis was something forbidden. It +was believed to be very dangerous to disregard these +prohibitions.”—<i>Joyce.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Glanngalt</span> (<a href="#Page_48">p. 48</a>): “There is a valley in Kerry +called Glanngalt, the glen of the galts, or lunatics.”—<i>Joyce.</i></p> + +<p class="sub">Here the Legend, by locating Glanngalt in Roscommon, +is palpably in error.—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89"></a>[89]</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Handstone</span> (<a href="#Page_20">p. 20</a>): “It was the custom at that time, +every champion they killed in single combat, to take +the brains out of their heads and mix lime with +them till they were formed into hard balls.”—<i>Book +of Leinster.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inns</span> (<a href="#Page_26">p. 26</a>): The hospitable custom of maintaining +inns for the free entertainment of travellers is mentioned +by nearly all authorities regarding the social +life of the ancient Irish. A most interesting account +is contained in “Joyce’s Social History.”—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Laeghaire</span> (<a href="#Page_9">p. 9</a>): Modern form, Leary; he was the +Irish Over-King when Patrick landed at Wicklow +and began his missionary labors in Ireland, A.D. +432. All the characters in the Legend are historic, +and the names are spelled as originally derived from +the Gaelic.—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mac Maragh, Keth</span> (<a href="#Page_14">p. 14</a>): Evidently confused +with Keth Magach, a famous warrior and champion +of that time, whose exploits are narrated in the +“Book of Armagh.”—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90"></a>[90]</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Macc Cairthinn</span> (<a href="#Page_20">p. 20</a>): In the “Tripartite Life” +Macc Cairthinn is named as Patrick’s Strong Man. +Evidently the Legend confuses him with Keth +Magach.</p> + +<p class="sub">(<a href="#Page_21">P. 21</a>): According to the “Tripartite Life,” it +was Patrick’s Strong Man, Macc Cairthinn, who +became a bishop, not Keth Magach.—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Metheglin</span> (<a href="#Page_47">p. 47</a>): Also called mead, “was made +chiefly from honey: it was a drink in much request, +and was considered a delicacy.... It was slightly +intoxicating.”—<i>Joyce.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Population</span> (<a href="#Page_25">p. 25</a>): “For the people were very numerous +in Ireland at that time, and so great were +their numbers that the land could afford but thrice +nine ridges to each man in Erin: viz., nine of bog, +nine of field and nine of wood.”—<i>Book of Hymns +(Todd).</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Presbiter Bescna</span> (<a href="#Page_13">p. 13</a>): Named, with all the members +of Patrick’s household, in the “Tripartite +Life.”—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91"></a>[91]</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Red Branch Knights</span> (<a href="#Page_20">p. 20</a>): According to Joyce +and other authorities, this was an order created by +Concobar Mac Nessa, a very ancient king of Ulster, +and whose greatest commander was Cuculainn, the +mightiest hero of Irish romance.—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanachy</span> (<a href="#Page_26">p. 26</a>): “The people ... took delight in +listening to poetry, history and romantic stories, +recited by professional poets and shanachies.”—<i>Joyce.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Standards of Value</span> (<a href="#Page_44">p. 44</a>): As in many other countries +in ancient times, a cow, or an ox, was the +standard of value. It seems probable, therefore, +that the Legend is correct in using sheep, pigs and +geese for the “fractional currency” of the period.—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strong Man</span> (<a href="#Page_14">p. 14</a>): These Strong Men, or champions, +like the smiths and other metal-workers, appear +frequently in the old annals as distinguished +also for their knowledge of law and history, and for +their story-telling ability.—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92"></a>[92]</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tara</span> (<a href="#Page_10">p. 10</a>): Seat of the Irish Over-Kings. Old +Erin’s centre of government, of learning and of +chivalry. Then, as now, the most eloquent of all +words descriptive of Ireland’s ancient glory. In +poetry, imperishable in the line: “The harp that once +thro’ Tara’s halls.” The scene of St. Patrick’s first +efforts to redeem Ireland from paganism.—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tobernagalt</span> (<a href="#Page_48">p. 48</a>): “Drinking of the water of +Tobernagalt (the lunatics’ well), and eating of the +cresses that grew along the little stream, the poor +wanderers get restored to sanity.... There is a +well called Stroove Bran, which was thought to possess +the same virtue as Tobernagalt.”—<i>Joyce.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wurra-Wurra</span> (<a href="#Page_18">p. 18</a>): The authorities do not specifically +mention the existence of an idol having that +name; but they agree that idols were worshipped in +all parts of ancient Ireland.—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +<p class="sub">The Irish up to that time (St. Patrick’s) “had +worshipped only idols and abominations.”—<i>St. Patrick’s +Confession.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93"></a>[93]</span></p> + +<p class="sub">“The destruction of idols in various parts of the +country was an important part of St. Patrick’s lifework.”—<i>Joyce.</i></p> + +<p class="sub">(<a href="#Page_80">P. 80</a>): Some Gaelic scholars hold that the familiar +exclamation, “Wurra-wurra!” is the nearest +approach in that tongue to the conventional invocation +of the Blessed Virgin. The Legend, however, +makes it, in that sense, an adaptation—evidently +intending a tribute to St. Patrick’s well-known +policy of harmonizing his teachings, as far +as possible at the start, with ancient customs and +beliefs.—<i>Tr.</i></p> + +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75537 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/75537-h/images/cover.jpg b/75537-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f5ef114 --- /dev/null +++ b/75537-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/75537-h/images/fp01.jpg b/75537-h/images/fp01.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..be0e081 --- /dev/null +++ b/75537-h/images/fp01.jpg diff --git a/75537-h/images/fp02.jpg b/75537-h/images/fp02.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac5191c --- /dev/null +++ b/75537-h/images/fp02.jpg diff --git a/75537-h/images/fp03.jpg b/75537-h/images/fp03.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..37880eb 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