Celts -- Folklore; Fairy tales; Fairy tales -- Great Britain; Folklore -- Great Britain; Tales -- Great Britain
"'When thou goest home to-night, warm thyself before a glowing red fire
of oak, made up on a dry hearth, so that its embers may warm thee, its
blaze may not burn thee, its smoke may not touch thee. And make for
thyself thrice nine morsels, and every morsel as big as an heath fowl's
egg, and in each morsel eight kinds of grain, wheat and barley, oats and
rye, and therewith eight condiments, and to every condiment eight
sauces. And when thou hast prepared thy food, take a drop of drink, a
tiny drop, only as much as twenty men will drink, and let it be of thick
milk, of yellow bubbling milk, of milk that will gurgle as it rushes
down thy throat.'
"'And when thou hast done this, whatever disease thou hast, shall be
removed. Go now,' said he, 'in the name of cheese, and may the smooth
juicy bacon protect thee, may yellow curdy cream protect, may the
cauldron full of pottage protect thee.'"
Now, as MacConglinney recited his vision, what with the pleasure of the
recital and the recounting of these many pleasant viands, and the sweet
savour of the honeyed morsels roasting on the spits, the lawless beast
that dwelt within the king, came forth until it was licking its lips
outside its head.
[Illustration]
Then MacConglinney bent his hand with the two spits of food, and put
them to the lips of the king, who longed to swallow them, wood, food,
and all. So he took them an arm's length away from the king, and the
lawless beast jumped from the throat of Cathal onto the spit.
MacConglinney put the spit into the embers, and upset the cauldron of
the royal house over the spit. The house was emptied, so that not the
value of a cockchafer's leg was left in it, and four huge fires were
kindled here and there in it. When the house was a tower of red flame
and a huge blaze, the lawless beast sprang to the rooftree of the
palace, and from thence he vanished, and was seen no more.
As for the king, a bed was prepared for him on a downy quilt, and
musicians and singers entertained him going from noon till twilight. And
when he awoke, this is what he bestowed upon the scholar--a cow from
every farm, and a sheep from every house in Munster. Moreover, that so
long as he lived, he should carve the king's food, and sit at his right
hand.
Thus was Cathal, King of Munster, cured of his craving, and
MacConglinney honoured.
Dream of Owen O'Mulready
[Illustration: T]
There was a man long ago living near Ballaghadereen named Owen
O'Mulready, who was a workman for the gentleman of the place, and was a
prosperous, quiet, contented man. There was no one but himself and his
wife Margaret, and they had a nice little house and enough potatoes in
the year, in addition to their share of wages, from their master. There
wasn't a want or anxiety on Owen, except one desire, and that was to
have a dream--for he had never had one.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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