SOME IRISH FOLK-LORE.

Otago Witness, Issue 3336, 20 February 1918, Page 53

SOME IRISH FOLK-LORE.

By Jkssie Mackay. Recently in these' columns I briefly discussed the theory that Scottish fairytales referred to a race of pigmy aborigines, who naturally chose to seclude themselves from successors of such dangerous size and attainments, and who made up in cunning for their lack of strength and the ordinary arts of ancient civilisation. It seems natural to add a few notes on similar supernatural beliefs in Ireland, that cradle of fairy-literature. From a recent paper in "Folk-lore" one gathers more detailed accounts ui that phenomenon known in Scotland as -the water-horse, which is a common possession of the Celtic mythologies. Quite fitly, a modern vision of this legendary steed is reported from the estate of Lady Gregory, the famous Irish playwriter and friend of the poet W. B. Yeats. A gamekeeper averred that his father no great while ago saw a short, stoutly-built horse of moderate height grazing by a small lake in Leitrim, reported to be a haunt of these creatures. The man saw it in the early morning, the usual time of appearance, and courageously crept very near it before it took alarm and plunged into the lake, where it immediately disappeared. One cannot but Avonder if it is one of these supernatural coursers on which the " fairy Earl of Desmond," according to one of the riiost beautiful of Irish ballads, is "riding, riding until the Judgment Bay," owino- to the ill-advised answer of a lady to whom' he had to put the question, " How long will my horse's silver shoes last?" The Scottish water-horse is a fearsome object seen close enough for its wild, staring eyes, its slimy fkin, and its webbed feet to be noted. lie, too, grazes by a lake-side, where he loves to tempt some unsuspecting mortal to mount his back. He then plunges into the water and eats his unhappy rider. He is visible only at dawn or after sunset; in the daytime he leaves nothing but the shadow of a dark mass moving through the water. Sometimes he can be killed, but, if so, nothing remains but a pool of water, which gives rise to a spring. The lake in Leitrim which hides the fairy horse is not far from another, which is the less-known haunt of a monstrous eel, with a mane hanging from behind his head. One young fisher, going to his lines in the early dawn, found he had one of them fast to this fairy waterserpent, -which followed him almost to his home before it broke the line. It does not seem to have the voracious and mischievous proclivities of its English compeer, the Lambton eel, which behaved itself like a minor Minotaur until the destined champion put an end to its life and exactions. True, this latter eel was a record for Tapid growth, having been fished up as a tiny creature by the heir of Lambton on a Sunday, when no fishing should have been, and returned to the water on its plea that it was too small to bo of use to anyone. The belief in the little fairy man called the leprachaun is said to be not wholly extinct in Ireland, and it was certainly robust as late as 1860, when a thatch'-' cutter cams upon one in the midst of the growth he was cutting. His horror at the little wizened face surmounted by a red cap was so great that he ran away for tho moment, and when he returned with a companion tho apparition was gone, though "his little nest was still warm in 'the heart of the bush."

A less familiar name for the kprachaun is the loughrey-man. A Monaghan woman named Mary M'Kenna saw one sitting at her solitary fire in the traditional red cap, counting out gold pieces from a pot. In her terror she chased him away, greatly regretting in after years that she ad not kept a steady eye upon him, under which the leprachaun not only cannot disappear, but is obliged to grant the steady-nerved mortal a (airy wish before he can quit the spot. Sometimes ' the lepracnaun, like the kindly brownie of Scotland and certain of the English pixie-folk, Is a giver of fine gifts, such, as delicate linen garments. But, like all other worldly donors, they demand complete silence- on the recipient's part. If the gifts are talked of they are never repeated.. In County Waterford tales are frequently told of the good St. Declan, the founder of what was afterwards rebuilt as Ardmore Abbey. The saint was also the builder of the Round Tower of Ardmore. He raised the structure in three nights, and would have carried his magic buildini? still higher had not a rude and impatient old woman called out, "Will you never be done?" A reef of rocks on the Ardmore* beach represent a number of heathen giants who opposed Declan's landing after he had been to Rome on pilgrimage. Much more beneficent is another relic of this remarkable landing at Ardmore, a rock of glacial formation, unknown in the district, and poised upon some other large stones. To creep under this swaying rock and come out on the other side is to invite traditional cure for some forms of disease, but the sufferer will not be allowed to make the slender passage if he has a stolen garment on, or an unabsolved sin on his 'conscience. This legend is, of course, akin to that of sacred stories of healing all the. world over, and peculiar awe and sanctity attaches to rocky passes of this particular sort, or to stones pierced with a hole. The ringed stone of Odin will be remembered, through which the thrusting of hands constituted a marriage of particular sacredness among the ancient Teutons.

In conclusion, the common phrase, "to touch wood," after any speech of praise or seeming boastfulness, is said to originate in County Waterford, where it was also allowable to preface tho dubious remark with " Oh, good time be itspoken." This hedging action or remark is doubtless akin to' the feeling that makes the praise of any possession, particularly of a loved child,, a matter of anger and dread ,to the Hindu peasant, or. indeed/ to the Oriental generally. He feelsMie is surrounded by angry and envious powers, which delight in spoiling all that is fortunate in the lives of mortals. Therefore he averts the ill-advised praise by various depreciatory formula?. But what the virtue of "touching wood" may be in this connection I have never heard, though it seems likely to owe its origin to some of tho:e mental-superstitions which are found in many primitive beliefs. Doubtless the ironworker was a wizard to the simple folk, who:e primitive devices were so scornfully superseded by the new art of a conquering people, and it may be that this was the origin of the saying. More likely the wood in question was once some blessed amulet or relic of a holy place or person.