AN GAOḊAL.
461
AĊ, AĊT; ANN, IN; AR, ÁR; NO,
NA.
A correspondent writes.
As a reader of the Gael I have obser¬
ved that the foregoing words are used
indiscriminately by its corresponents.
Without presuming to be an authori¬
ty in such matters we shall give our
own idea of their different applica¬
tions, being guided in our conclusions
by the practice of speaking, and of hear¬
ing the language spoken from infancy,
along with being supported in our view
by O'Reilly’s Dictionary. Others are
also invited to give their opinions.
Aċ, we consider this the more cor¬
rect orthography of the conjunction
"but,” which agrees with the pronunci¬
ation.
Aċt, a will or decree, agrees with the
sound of the word. Hence, we prefer
aċ to aċt when it means 'but.'
Ann, in, these are used indiscriminate¬
ly for the preposition 'in,' but we pre¬
fer in because it is shorter, and to dis¬
tinguish it from ann, 'in it.'
Ar, we never heard ár for 'our,' ár
always meaning slaughter or war; we
consider ar the proper mode when our
is meant.
Na is properly used for 'than,' also 'nna
contraction of ionna ; no is properly u¬
sed for 'or, nor, either, neither.' This
is their 'primary' meaning
Moral (2) England the civilizer and
preceptor of the world!!! We believe
the dynamiters would confer a lasting
benefit on mankind by ridding the
earth of that sink of iniquity, the Bri¬
tish capital.
P. Hughes — In the IRISH WORLD of
July 25 you have the information de¬
sired. If you are a regular reader of
that patriotic journal you may also
have observed your second querry ful¬
ly and learnedly answered.
A GARLAND TO THOMAS MOORE.
From the Philo-Celts, May 25th 1885.
By
RINA.
"The poet of all circles, the idol of his own"
Here we meet in kindred love our patriot bard
to crown
Our minstrel whose sweet melodies our deepest
thoughts have thrilled
Murmurous music at whose echo our eyes with
tears have filled.
Ah we'll twine a loving garland for our idol's shrine
to-day,
So let's take of “ sunshine spoken” for his brow
one sparkling ray —
More bright than picturesque moonlight of the
"beaming young May Moon"
Or the tender witching starlight that cheers the
midnight gloom.
Oh we'll pick a sprig of shamrock embalmed with
MOUNTAIN DEW,
Roses from Bendemeer's classic stream of softest,
sweetest hue —
Eastern-flowers of brilliant fancy with Oriental
imagery glowing,
So graceful in their varied beauty, with rarest
genius o’erflowing.
Music's own soft magic we'll join to our offering
too,
Echoing the harp's wild sweetness with melody
ever new,
Let's gather gay ripples of laughter as genial as
Tom's own,
O'er all we'll scatter our hearts love the fairest
gem in our crown.
Dear bard, we offer this tribute of the many sweet
hours we’ve known
In the exile's friendly Elysium and in the happy
days at home,
Erin sends to you fond greeting by her children in
the far West —
She hopes it will make you happier in the place
of your heavenly Rest.
Tá Lunduin i ndiu
In ḋorċadas tiuġ
Le uaḃáis a cionntaiḃ breun;
Nár ṁór an luaċ-saoṫair
Í ṡéideaḋ ó'n g-criċ
D'aon d'ar n-Éireannaiḃ treun?
Séidiḋe! Ó séidiḋe!
An biṫeaṁnaċ duḃ,
O aġaiḋ na talṁana ċoiḋċ',
Is cuir bac air a dream,
A ṫruailliġeas go cam,
Daoine 's daonaċt faoi ċaoi.
