Visions and Beliefs in the West of Ireland, Second Series
General
Visions and Beliefs in the West of Ireland, Second Series
Atlantic Coast (Ireland) -- Social life and customs; Folklore -- Ireland; Ireland -- Social life and customs
As to hares, they're the biggest fairies of all. Last year the boys
had one caught, and I put it in the pot to wash it and it after being
skinned, and I heard a noise come from the pot--grr-grr--and nothing
but cold water in it. And I ran to save my life, and I told the boys to
have nothing to do with it, but they wouldn't mind me. And when they
tried to eat it, and it boiled, they couldn't get their teeth into the
flesh of it, and as for the soup, it was no different from potato-water.
* * * * *
The village of Lissavohalane has a great name for such things.
And it's certain that once one night every year, in the month of
November, all the cats of the whole country round gather together
there and fight. My own two cats were nearly dead for days after it
last year, and the neighbours told me the same of theirs.
* * * * *
There was a woman had a cat and she would feed it at the table before
any other one; and if it did not get the first meat that was cooked,
the hair would rise up as high as that. Well, there were priests came
to dinner one day, and when they were helped the first, the hair
rose up on the cat's back. And one of them said to the woman it was
a queer thing to give in to a cat the way she did, and that it was a
foolish thing to be giving it the first of the food. So when it heard
that, it walked out of the house, and never came into it again.
* * * * *
There's something not right about cats. Steve Smith says he knew a
keeper that shot one, and it went into a sort of a heap, and when he
came near, it spoke, and he found it was some person, and it said
it had to walk its seven acres. And there's some have heard them
together at night talking Irish.
* * * * *
There was a hole over the door of the house that I used to live in,
where Murphy's house is now, to let the smoke out, for there was no
chimney. And one day a black cat jumped in at the hole, and stopped in
the house and never left us for a year. But on the day year he came he
jumped out again at the same hole and didn't go out of the door that
was standing open. There was no mistake about it, it was the day year.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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