AN GAODHAL.
173
neart a bhfaobhair an bhliadhain sin.
Maidir liom-sa & mo mhaoin do thuit
donas díoghbhálach an easgaine cheadna
orm. Níor chian i n-diaidh na bhfear do
bheith básuighthe amhail adubhairt thuas an
tan do mhothuigheamar gach aon rud do
bheith tre 'n-a chéile & go h-amallach aguinn.
Ní raibh toradh ná tarbha in ár ngar¬
aidhibh, ní raibh leacht ná leamhnacht ag ár
g-cuid bó, ná bainne ná bláthach ar chlár
aguinn. Is baileach d'éirgheadh uachtar ar
na tubáinibh, agus an tan do chuirimís é
san meadarach le h-aghaidh coisgin do
dhéanamh is é rud bhiodh aguinn do bhárr
ár saothair acht cubhar tiugh brean nó
lastair lán-lobhtha de mhedhg & bainne
reamhar.
Do bhámar í d-teannta an da fhichid
annsan; an cíos ag glaodhach go dian
orrainn & gan im ná uachtar ná aon
ghne eile maoine aguinn re 'n-a dhíol. Is
annsan adubhairt mo chéile riom gurab
maith an t-slighe í chum, ár míorath do
réidheachadh dul d'ionnsaighe Shiabhartha
Bhaile-an-aitinn, .i. an fear-sidhe bhudh
chiallmhara doimhin-leigheanta i n-diblidh¬
eacht na n-deamhan d'a raibh le fághail a¬
guinn, do fheachain an bh-fuighbheadh sé
sean ár n-duadh & n-doghraing do mhaol¬
ughadh agus ár n-im do thabhairt ar n-ais
duinn arís. D' éirgheas go tráthamhail
ar maidin & do ghluasas romham go tap¬
aidh ag siubhal tre iomad raon reidh &
boithrínidhe cumhang caol go rochtain
Bhaile-an-aitinn dham lá ar n-a mhárach.
Is dearbh go bhfuaras ann bothán beag
fa geall re bráca no tigh muice, & do
bhuaileas ag an dorus gur phreab sean-
bean ghiobalach, shuarach, shalach, ag a osg¬
ladh romham. Ar n-dul isteach dam do
bheannuigheas dí & a raibh ann i n-ainm
Dé. Má rinneas féin is ar a mhalairt
do freagaireadh dam leis an Siabhartha,
'n-a luighe i g-clíabhán san chuinge ag iar¬
faighe dhím :— "Cread fáth do mhór-shiubh¬
alta chomh air maidin, a Sheághain Sgol¬
óig?" Do fhreagaras dhó go miochair,
min-chneasda ag druidim anonn chuige
gur chonnarc go raibh 'n-a abhaicín chrus¬
ta sheirceach & a shuile iadhta aige. Do
(Le bheith leanta.)
edge that year.
As for me and my possessions the e¬
vil fortunes of the same curse followed
me. Not long after the destruction of
the men, as I have told above, we dis¬
covered that everything was mixed up
and miserably untidy with us. There
was neither produce nor profit in our
tilled fields; our cows gave an unkind¬
ly yield and we had neither milk nor
butter-milk at our table. Scantily used
the cream rise on our tubs and when
we used to put it in the churn to make
butter we found after our labour only
a thick evil-smelling froth or a worth¬
less foetid mixture of whey and skim
milk.
We were completely undone then; a
large amount of rent was owed and we
had neither butter, cream, nor, any o¬
ther sort of produce to pay it. My wife
then told me that the best way to end
our ill luck would be to visit the 'shee¬
vara of Baile-an-aiting, i.e., the most
accomplished and deeply-learned fairy-
man in the sorcery of demons that we
could find, to see if he could allay our
trouble and suffering and bring back
our butter to us again. I arose betimes
in the morning and pushed forward
quickly, travelling many a level road
and narrow borheen until I reached
Baile-an-aiting on the morning of the
following day. To be sure I found there
a little cabin like the wayside bothy of
one plague-stricken, or a pig-sty; and on
my knocking at the door a raggedly-
untidy, contemptible, dirty, old woman
jumpted to her feet to open it for me.
I went in and saluted all there in the
name of God. Even so I received an
answer in a different style from the
'sheevara' lying in his cradle in the
corner who asked “What may be the
cause of thy great journeying so early
in the morning John Farmer?” I an¬
swered mildly and politely (at the same
time) going ever to where he lay when
I perceived that he was a withered,
cross-looking, little dwarf with closed
eyes.
(To be continued)
