THE HUMOURS OF KERRY.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 779, 4 February 1887, Page 8

THE HUMOURS OF KERRY.

Kiliarney. I have for time past been intending to send you a further instalment ot * Hiberniciems,’ but this relaxing climate tenders any exercise of the intellect a serious exertion, even though that exercise is of so mild an order as the sorting aud selecting of a few anecdotes already jotted down or ‘ memorised ’ as the Americans sav. But ibi3 morning the writing room is deserted, my invalid friend is so much better aa to dispense with my attendance for a few hours, and I feel that the moment has arrived for fulfilling my postponed intention. As. however, the heading of my letter may give rite to suspicions, inasmuch as Kiliorney is a notorious centre for the manufacture of anecdote, I can only assure my readers that the following illustrations of Irish humour and Irish modes of thought are in nearly every case drawn from my own experience or that of members of my family, and that I am not aware of any of them having found their way into print before. I have on a former occasion given specimens of the quaint wording of petitions for medical assistance or pecuniary aid. Here is a literal tranßcripiion of a document lying before me as I write, which is typical of the literature

of rustic supplication * Rev Sib, —I hope vou rember I being talking to you in last Thu sda*', about the charitable assistance towards, the damage done to me by the lightening. So when your Rev. read the memorial you told me to ccuze ia two days time and that you would give me one poand so I came in Samerday and you weie after leaving the day before, so I hope your Rev, arrived home safe. So I wiil expect from your Rev. that you will send it by post to me, as it was mv own fault not to go foe it, the day your Rev. told me—as it is as big Charity as was ever done, as it was the will of Providence to leave mo in such a need as I am at present, but God spare the gentlemen of the place they have done a great deal for me at Present—X am > our Obedient Servant,——.’ It is bard to say which is the more characteristic feature of the foregoing letter, — its ine urnquent reasoning or its fatalism. The allusion to charity remiads me of a curious commentary which is furnished by an Irish expression, upon the text ‘ He that giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord ’ Not long ago as I was driving along the Glengarriff road, I was solicited by an old man, well kuowu to tourists, for a contribution to enable him to rebuild his cottage. When I reminded him that he had been making the same request for a good many years, and had nothing to show for* he donations entered in his book, he waxed eloquent on his miseries, aud wound up by exclaiming that he had nothing at all but Gcd Almighty in the middle cf the road.—meaning the alms of the passer-by. Oa the last two occasions on which I have taken this road, the old man was not forthcoming ; but his plaoe was taken by a number of little barefooted boys a-*d girls, each with a wild fl >wer or pseudoKillarney fern in his or ter hand. While still at a distauce from thvm, I said to my driver, ‘ Children going home from school, I suppose ?’ on which he replied, ‘ Vo, Sir, but they’re hunting the day-car for book-money,* which being interpreted means that they were lying in wait for the daily tourist-car whioh plies between Gleugarriff and Killarney, in order to ask the passengers for pennies * to buy a book/ for ia this ingenious way have they been taught to cover with the plea of a thirst for information what is too often their parents’ thiist for whisky. The most extraordinary demand, however, that has come within the range of my experience was that of, woman who begged for a subsidy to replace the funds expended in ‘ wak ng r her mother, * for/ as she added, 1 if we did, we waked her too soon, for sfee come to l.fe again/ From illegitimate I pass to legitimate demands, some of which are often exceedingly diverting. &. peculiarly comic tfFect ia produced in some of them by the use of a certain coudensed form of speech, exactly similar to that called of grammarians * bracbyology/ In. stances of this figure are supplied by the cobbler’s bill—‘For soling and heeling Master Charles / better still by the charge ([forgot of how much) ‘for welting the mastber and turning up Miss Kitty.’ The accompanying document shows that even a Kerry butcher is capable of a fine epistolary styler— ‘ Mrs , Please to have me paid for the killing of ten sheep at the modeiate charge of 6J each, which is equal to five shillings. And I’ll feel much pleasure in remaining your ever faithful servant, Timothy McGillycuddy.’ It i a a peculiarity of the Irish peasant that he has a way of irresistibly tickling your sense of the ridiculous just at the very moment when you are most anxious to exhibit your sympathy. Our boatman, who lost hie brother a few years back, was giving me an account of the latter’s last illness, in which he sorely tried my gravity by saying, ‘ He had an airy fit, yer honor, and lhen, saving your presence, he was very sick in his shtomarh / What an ‘airy fit’ exactly means, I have not been able to discover; but I have ascertained that it i* a mysterious seizure, akin to a 1 fairy stroke,* which has set some of us wondering whether * airy ’ might not possibly be the same as ‘eerie.’ Against this must be set the fact that I can think of no other instance where ee is pronounced in this fashion. But the belief in fairies ia deeply rooted in the Kerry peasantry, as every resident knows, and manifests itself in a strong disinclination to discuss the subject or to visit lonely spots. We have often thought what a perfectly effectual means of stopping orchardrobbing could be devised by hanging up an HSilian harp, but somehow never carried out the design. In some of these statements of their ailments by the peasantry, the picturesque element resides in a single word. A woman came to our door this summer, and, on being interrogated, explained as follows : * I’m a poor lame cravture, and I’ve lost the footing from under me/ More forcible was the declaration made quite r6cent'v to our neighbor opposite, by an applicant for help : * I had three childher, yer honor ; but, by gannies. tho chincough pinned wan of them !* While I am talking of ailments and comments thereon, I cannot refrain from giving an anecdote from another part of the country, but whioh is well authenticated. A landlord, noted for the bulk of his person, was lying seriously ill, and one of his tenants, who came to inquire after ‘tbe masther,’ was informed that he was being kept up by tho occasional administration of teaspoonfuls of brandy. Whereon ho rejoined somewhat contemptuously :—-Tayspoons, is it ? And what good would a tayspoon be, sthraving about in such a wilderness of a man !’ The Irish peasant, though opt to he longwinded at times, is capable on occasion of summarising tlie situation in a singularly terse fashion. A landlord showed me lately a letter he had received from a former tenant, now in Australia, in which there occurred the following passage : ‘ There are more men idle in Sydney than there is in T flack, looking for work and prajing God not to get it, but loafing around from one publichouse to another.’ Again tbe expression made use of by a Kerry gamekeeper to describe the ascent of a steep green slope, namely, that ‘ one was atin’ grass all the way/ has always struck me as a singularly vivid picture of the relative positions of olimber and hillside. But a fondness for fine words and expansion is more frequently observable than the epigrammatic vein illustrated above. One of our laborers, who afterwards became a most efficient member of the London police, went over to Italy to join the Pope’s brigade in 1860, and on his return presented my father with the diary he had kept during his absence. I have this literary effort in my possession, and will extract from it one sentence :—We visited St. Peter’s Churoh, and I can’t presume the idea of giving an adumbration of its beauty.’ Of Irish ‘ bulls ’ I have not en-

countered any good specimen T|j! J SaS^SS s^ss3£?as the speetaVuv, heard from lime to tune a TO.ce woman wandering about ..mon et the J ..t-m'.-sj aloud ill pit. fill accents, *Och 1 Mrs McCormick, Mrs McCormick ! Ar In*t the wanderer discovered the object of her search, and »s it happened lo be-in hi* immediate neigh bo. hood, he listened with at attention for the urgent communication fhe had to make. His feelings therefore, may well be imagined when he heard thegood la y «o!aim ‘Och! glory be to God, Mrs McCormick, we shall all be burnt in our beds this night! —’Spectator.