Yeats' FAIRY AND FOLK
TALES OF THE IRISH PEASANTRY
Miss Letitia MacLintock
Thady and Grace Connor
lived on the borders of a large turf bog, in the
parish of Clondevaddock, where they could hear the Atlantic surges thunder in
upon the shore, and see the wild storms of winter sweep over the Muckish
mountain, and his rugged neighbours. Even in summer the cabin by the bog was dull and
Thady Connor worked in the fields, and Grace made a livelihood as a pedlar,
carrying a basket of remnants of cloth, calico, drugget, and frieze about the
country. The people rarely visited any large town, and found it convenient to
buy from Grace, who was welcomed in many a lonely house, where a table was
hastily cleared, that she might display her wares. Being considered a very
honest woman, she was frequently entrusted with commissions to the shops in
Letterkenny and Ramelton. As she set out towards home, her basket was generally
laden with little gifts for her children.
"Grace, dear," would one of the kind housewives say,
"here's a farrel1 of oaten cake, wi' a taste o' butter on it; tak' it wi' you
for the weans;" or, "Here's half-a-dozen of eggs; you've a big family to
Small Connors of all ages crowded round the weary mother, to rifle her basket
of these gifts. But her thrifty, hard life came suddenly to an end. She died
after an illness of a few hours, and was waked and buried as handsomely as Thady
Thady was in bed the night after the funeral, and the fire still burned
brightly, when he saw his departed wife across the room and bend over the
cradle. Terrified, he muttered rapid prayers, covered his face with the blanket;
and on looking up again the appearance was gone.
Next night he lifted the infant out of the cradle, and laid it behind him in
the bed, hoping thus to escape his ghostly visitor; but Grace was presently in
the room, and stretching over him to wrap up her child. Shrinking and
shuddering, the poor man exclaimed, "Grace, woman, what is it brings you back?
What is it you want wi' me?"
"I want naething fae you, Thady, but to put thon wean back in her cradle,"
replied the spectre, in a tone of scorn. "You're too feared for me, but my
sister Rose willna be eared for me--tell her to meet me tomorrow evening, in the old
Rose lived with her mother, about a mile off, but she obeyed her sister's
summons without the least fear, and kept the strange tryste in due time.
"Rose, dear," she said, as she appeared before her sister in the old
wallsteads, "my mind's oneasy about them twa' red shawls that's in the basket.
Matty Hunter and Jane Taggart paid me for them, an' I bought them wi' their
money, Friday was eight days. Gie them the shawls the morrow. An' old Mosey
M'Corkell gied me the price o' a wiley coat; it's in under the other things in
the basket. An' now farewell; I can get to my rest."
"Grace, Grace, bide a wee minute," cried the faithful sister, as the dear
voice grew fainter, and the dear face began to fade--"Grace, darling! Thady? The
children? One word mair!" but neither cries nor tears could further detain the
spirit hastening to its rest!
a large, round, flat griddle cake is divided into triangular cuts, each of these
cuts is called a farrel, farli or parli.