Another Shot of O'Crohan's Island Crosstalk

 

 

By the way, you should know that in Old Ireland Shrovetide is the period between Christmas Day and Twelfth Night. It is the traditional Irish time for matchmaking with the wedding to be held on Twelfth Night.

The Herb Seamaisin Would Sell His Shirt For

"What price did the fish make today, Seamas?" asks Seamaisin.

"Twelve shillings, my sweet man." "It was not worth more - fish not even the size of my little finger for the most part."

"That may be so, Uncle, " says Seamas, "but there were some that were the length of my arm."

"Upon my soul! They would have to be, for if they were all as small they wouldn't be worthy half a crown," says Seamaisin.

"Isn't it a great market , my sweet man," says Seamas, "Compared to the pound of tea costing the same."

"Bad scran to you, if you compare the pound of tea with your lump of mackerel! When there isn't an herb growing anywhere I would sell the shirt off my back for, only that one," says Seamaisin.

"You would be a long while eating mackerel before you would start dancing for me. The tea is a different matter - after you had swallowed that you would be skipping around like a goat."

"By Our Lady, Uncle, in that much at least I would agree with you. I would have gone to Eternity long ago, my darling man, only for all of it that I have swallowed, that's my belief."

"It would be little harm if no one died for want of it only yourself! But I dare say there would be many more with the same disease," said Seamaisin.

It is another grand day. People have scattered east and west. A Currach has gone to Dunquin. The postman went out to the mainland too, but he had no great load on the way back. He was none too pleased with events on the world outside. He had heard that America was turning against England. But flour was plentiful on the mainland and that pleased him, for he does not like scarcity.

A great number of rabbits have been brought back from the small islands, since the weather is very calm. Bright summer is what we have.

"When will you scrape the rust off your spade, Seamaisin?", a waggish lad asked him, for he is the small, waspish rough-tongued Seamaisin and the youngsters make game of him.

"Won't it be time enough for me to scrape the rust off it when I have eaten up all the stock of my potatoes?" asked Seamaisin

"But you now, you should be bending your back to scrape it off by the this time if yeer to have new potatos early, for ye never had enough to last ye, an' ye never will, seein' how the Devil nor Laziness would let ye look after them properly, once ye have them planted in the ground."

"Isn't it in the care of the Sacred Lord everyone leaves them?" said the youth.

"Upon my soul," said Seamaisin, "but he is good to you if He manures the potatoes for you."

LOVE

dad,granpa,ami