Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry Part 31

So he ran to bring the scholars; and when they saw it, they all knew it was the soul of their master; and they watched with wonder and awe until it pa.s.sed from sight into the clouds.

And this was the first b.u.t.terfly that was ever seen in Ireland; and now all men know that the b.u.t.terflies are the souls of the dead, waiting for the moment when they may enter Purgatory, and so pa.s.s through torture to purification and peace.

But the schools of Ireland were quite deserted after that time, for people said, What is the use of going so far to learn, when the wisest man in all Ireland did not know if he had a soul till he was near losing it, and was only saved at last through the simple belief of a little child.

[Footnote 52: _Ancient Legends of Ireland._]

THE PRIEST OF COLOONY.

W. B. YEATS.

Good Father John O'Hart In penal days rode out To a _shoneen_[53] in his freelands, With his snipe marsh and his trout.

In trust took he John's lands, --_Sleiveens_[54] were all his race-- And he gave them as dowers to his daughters, And they married beyond their place.

But Father John went up, And Father John went down; And he wore small holes in his shoes, And he wore large holes in his gown.

All loved him, only the _shoneen_, Whom the devils have by the hair, From their wives and their cats and their children, To the birds in the white of the air.

The birds, for he opened their cages, As he went up and down; And he said with a smile, "Have peace, now,"

And went his way with a frown.

But if when anyone died, Came keeners hoa.r.s.er than rooks, He bade them give over their keening, For he was a man of books.

And these were the works of John, When weeping score by score, People came into Coloony, For he'd died at ninety-four.

There was no human keening; The birds from Knocknarea, And the world round Knocknashee, Came keening in that day,--

Keening from Innismurry, Nor stayed for bit or sup; This way were all reproved Who dig old customs up.

[Coloony is a few miles south of the town of Sligo. Father O'Hart lived there in the last century, and was greatly beloved. These lines accurately record the tradition. No one who has held the stolen land has prospered. It has changed owners many times.]

[Footnote 53: _Shoneen_--_i.e._, upstart.]

[Footnote 54: _Sleiveen_--_i.e._, mean fellow.]

THE STORY OF THE LITTLE BIRD.[55]

T. CROFTON CROKER.

Many years ago there was a very religious and holy man, one of the monks of a convent, and he was one day kneeling at his prayers in the garden of his monastery, when he heard a little bird singing in one of the rose-trees of the garden, and there never was anything that he had heard in the world so sweet as the song of that little bird.

And the holy man rose up from his knees where he was kneeling at his prayers to listen to its song; for he thought he never in all his life heard anything so heavenly.

And the little bird, after singing for some time longer on the rose-tree, flew away to a grove at some distance from the monastery, and the holy man followed it to listen to its singing, for he felt as if he would never be tired of listening to the sweet song it was singing out of its throat.

And the little bird after that went away to another distant tree, and sung there for a while, and then to another tree, and so on in the same manner, but ever further and further away from the monastery, and the holy man still following it farther, and farther, and farther, still listening delighted to its enchanting song.

But at last he was obliged to give up, as it was growing late in the day, and he returned to the convent; and as he approached it in the evening, the sun was setting in the west with all the most heavenly colours that were ever seen in the world, and when he came into the convent, it was nightfall.

And he was quite surprised at everything he saw, for they were all strange faces about him in the monastery that he had never seen before, and the very place itself, and everything about it, seemed to be strangely altered; and, altogether, it seemed entirely different from what it was when he had left in the morning; and the garden was not like the garden where he had been kneeling at his devotion when he first heard the singing of the little bird.

And while he was wondering at all he saw, one of the monks of the convent came up to him, and the holy man questioned him, "Brother, what is the cause of all these strange changes that have taken place here since the morning?"

And the monk that he spoke to seemed to wonder greatly at his question, and asked him what he meant by the change since morning?

for, sure, there was no change; that all was just as before. And then he said, "Brother, why do you ask these strange questions, and what is your name? for you wear the habit of our order, though we have never seen you before."

So upon this the holy man told his name, and said that he had been at ma.s.s in the chapel in the morning before he had wandered away from the garden listening to the song of a little bird that was singing among the rose-trees, near where he was kneeling at his prayers.

And the brother, while he was speaking, gazed at him very earnestly, and then told him that there was in the convent a tradition of a brother of his name, who had left it two hundred years before, but that what was become of him was never known.

And while he was speaking, the holy man said, "My hour of death is come; blessed be the name of the Lord for all his mercies to me, through the merits of his only-begotten Son."

And he kneeled down that very moment, and said, "Brother, take my confession, for my soul is departing."

And he made his confession, and received his absolution, and was anointed, and before midnight he died.

The little bird, you see, was an angel, one of the cherubims or seraphims; and that was the way the Almighty was pleased in His mercy to take to Himself the soul of that holy man.

[Footnote 55: _Amulet_, 1827. T. C. Croker wrote this, he says, word for word as he heard it from an old woman at a holy well.]

CONVERSION OF KING LAOGHAIRE'S DAUGHTERS.

Once when Patrick and his clericks were sitting beside a well in the Rath of Croghan, with books open on their knees, they saw coming towards them the two young daughters of the King of Connaught. 'Twas early morning, and they were going to the well to bathe.

The young girls said to Patrick, "Whence are ye, and whence come ye?"

and Patrick answered, "It were better for you to confess to the true G.o.d than to inquire concerning our race."

"Who is G.o.d?" said the young girls, "and where is G.o.d, and of what nature is G.o.d, and where is His dwelling-place? Has your G.o.d sons and daughters, gold and silver? Is he everlasting? Is he beautiful? Did Mary foster her son? Are His daughters dear and beauteous to men of the world? Is He in heaven, or on earth, in the sea, in rivers, in mountainous places, in valleys?"

Patrick answered them, and made known who G.o.d was, and they believed and were baptised, and a white garment put upon their heads; and Patrick asked them would they live on, or would they die and behold the face of Christ? They chose death, and died immediately, and were buried near the well Clebach.

KING O'TOOLE AND HIS GOOSE.