Irish Folk Tales (42 page)

H
OW THE SHOEMAKER SAVED HIS WIFE

When I was a boy about thirty years ago I was hired in a townland called Rualach in the parish of Kilcar. Here is a little story I heard the woman of the house tell one night:

A good many years ago there was a couple living at Gortalia. The wife was expecting the birth of a child and the husband was sent on horseback to Kilcar to fetch the midwife. While she was dressing herself he went about the town doing some errands, and he had a small drink. He was a shoemaker, and he decided he might as well buy a couple of pounds of shoe-nails while he was in the town.

Well and good. When he had got all he needed he returned for the midwife who was ready and waiting for him. He put her up behind him on the horse, and off with the two of them on their way to the sick woman. When he mounted the horse he had the nails in one hand and he held the reins in the other. They rode away with the horse going at full gallop. It was a cloudy moonlit night and as they were going through a place called Ált an Tairbh he heard a sound as if a flock of birds was coming towards them in the air. It came directly in their way and as it was passing overhead he threw the paperful of nails up in the air. He was full of anger and spoke out from his heart:

“May the Devil take you with him!”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he heard the sound of something falling at the horse’s feet. He turned around and dismounted, and when he looked at the thing that had fallen what did he find but a woman! He looked sharply at her and who did he find her to be but his own wife whom he had left lying at home. He took her up and put her on the horse with the midwife, who held her while he led the horse home by its head.

Well. As they were approaching the house there was a hullabaloo there that they were too late, that his wife had died since he left, and there was great crying and clamor. The man led the two women he had with him into the stable with the horse and asked them to stay there until he returned. He himself went into the house, as if nothing had happened, and went over to the bed where the supposed corpse was lying. Everyone was astonished that he was not crying nor the least distraught as men usually are when their wives die. He turned on his heel and out with him and in again in a moment with the pitchfork from the byre. He went up to the bed and made a swipe
at the thing that was lying there, but, well for her, when she saw him drawing at her she rose and went out of the window like a flash of lightning.

He went out then and brought in his wife and the midwife. Everything went well then and in due time the child was born. He and his wife spent a long life after that at Gortalia and neither the wee folk nor the big people gave them any more trouble!

T
HE MOUNTAIN ELF

Well, in days gone by, they assembled every night from one house to another. I went to your house, and you went to my house, and we sat down and we told fairy tales.

And it seems to me it was definitely true, for I have heard tell of several children being taken away and sickly elves left in their place. There was often a substitute child
left
.

I saw one meself. I’ll tell you about it.

Well. We were on a mumming expedition. And it was up here on the mountain. I’ll not mention the names of the people, you know. But we went into this house.

After doing our mumming transaction, you know, going through the whole performance, I saw this wee boy in the corner.

And he had wee, thin long hands, similar there to a monkey.

And he had feet on him, I’d say really they were nine or ten inches long. His legs were not thicker than the leg of the tongs.

And he had a pile of wee straws. He was nipping it in the corner, breaking them all to pieces.

There was only two old men in the house. And I didn’t really remember seeing him when I went in, you know. And then I looked, and he had a very thin worn face on him; you’d think that he was a thousand years of age. A very faded-out-looking figure.

I didn’t ask the boys atall anything about him, but a certain length of time after I asked, and there was a lot of people didn’t know anything about him, but there was one fellow told me he was supposed to be left be the fairies.

The normal child was taken away a considerable number of years before that.

And this boy could do anything. He could go out and he could

   
fly
from one house to another,

      rise up and fly

         as far as he liked.

Could be he would come back again in a few minutes, and he might be away for the whole day.

He was seen here, and he was seen there, miles and miles away.

He could be on the street at the very same time when a meal would be ready, no matter how
far
he was away.

Then there was wee tales, yarns like that told about him.

And he lived on for years, years. He stayed there in fact for years and years, until one morning the two old men was looking for him and he was gone. Completely.

And he never returned again.

He never seemed to grow older. He kept the one, he was the same. He was put in the cradle where the normal child was until he had them just harried out.

He got up and he walked through the floor, and he could jump here and jump there, and he could light, and they didn’t know what to do with him.

The doctor was acquainted, but he give no decision on him or anything. He stayed in the house till they were fed up with him. They were a pair of nice quiet old men.

And finally this is what took place: he just riz up, and cleared away, Christmas morning, and was gone.

That was the end of it.

I
NISHKEEN’S ON FIRE

There was a woman and she had a wee baby boy in a cradle. Them days there was no such thing as a pram.

So this boy come in, and the child was taken out of the cradle, and this funny boy got into it.

The child was never seen, and the funny boy was in the cradle all the time.

And a man come in, a neighbor man come in, and the boy in the cradle says, “G
IMME A LIGHT FOR ME PIPE
.

“G
IMME A COAL THERE OUTTA THE FIRE
.”

So the boyo got the coal and he smoked.

And then there was another man going to a blacksmith. He was going to get a loy fixed. It wasn’t a spade now; it was a loy.

So. The man was going away to get the loy fixed with the blacksmith. He looked into the cradle. And he knew it was no child.

He knew it was no baby.

And the boy in the cradle put up his head. “W
OULD YOU GIVE ME A LIGHT FOR ME PIPE
,” he says.

So the man that went in, he went out to the street, and he let a big curse out of him:

“Inishkeen’s on fire
.