7. for-ṁóin, turf left lying for a year in the bog.
8. Ins na Faoide, in February. Duḃ-Luaċair na bliaḋna, the cold spring season of the year. Compare the article of Mr. MacRury in Trans. of Inverness Gaelic Society on Mairneulachd.
9. suiḋeaċaint, a duel, lit., proof, cfs. the mediæval custom of putting an accused person to tests of fire, sword or water, or of single combat.
10. teasbaċ, lit., heat, hence, passion, wantonness, mischief.
11. ní ḟeaca a ċinneaṫa (h-yin-a′-hă), I did not see his face. In Aran cinn-aġaiḋ=countenance. Possibly our word may be cinn-aiġṫe, aiġṫe being the gen. case.
12. bocaire, a small puffy cake of bread: ceapaire, a pat of butter.
13. stráicire, lanky person. In Aran stráic = long scattered crowd or shower.
14. Siuḃán alla, spider.
15. clagar, thick, soft rain: cf. clagarnaċ donn go trom ag túirling, in Midnight Court.
16. saṁluiġim=saoilim, both used.
III.—Peculiarities, &c.
1. sé Seaġán na steile ḃeaṫaig é, he is the “dead picture” of John. This seems to be the dative of beaṫa, with some word, unknown to me, prefixed.
2. ag ól tobac, d’ólás tobac. Why they say “drinking” tobacco is a mystery to me. It is not gaḃáil.
3. osna Bhriain, a deep sigh of weariness given by person or animal. Why?
4. ag iṫe na feola fuaire, eating the cold (raw) flesh,=calumniate. This reminds one of the Jewish metaphor familiar to students of St. John, vi.
5. nár a dé do veis, may you not prosper: we all know dia do beaṫa (in Munster usually dé do beaṫa, or dė beaṫa), hail! welcome! The opposite is nár ab é do ḃeaṫa and nár a dé do ḃeaṫa. I take it that the latter form is for nár ab dé (dia) do ḃeaṫa. Possibly our phrase is nár a dé do ḃeaṫa-sa, shortened to ḃeaṫs, and changed to veis?
There are a few other things which I may note on a future occasion, and in the meantime I invite criticism on those now given. When I state that this collection is the result of a few days desultory conversation, the reader may gather how much still remains to be done in the study of spoken Gaelic. I have great pleasure in adding, that in future we may look forward to notes on the Gaelic of Ballyvourney and Kilmichael from Father Lyons, Father Hennessy, P.P., and Mr. Scannell.
E. O’G
NOTES AND QUERIES.
(38) In Cork Proverbs, September, under proverb No. 34, the contributor asks, “What is tarroc?” Ní ansa. Tarroc, or tarrac, is the Munster form of tarrang, Connaught tarraint, infinitive or verbal noun of tarraingim, or tairngim, I draw: uair a ṫarroc ċum cille=:the time of his drawing to the graveyard.
(39) In last number, the Editor, in his Gaelic Notes, referred to words in which a metathesis has changed the pronunciation. In Aran, Galway, buartlaċ is said instead of bualtraċ = cow-dung, especially when used as fuel; muileán for muineál, neck; pé briṫ, sometimes even fé briṫ, for pé ar biṫ, whatever, whoever: lar-saċaiḋe = lasraċaiḋe, lightning, plural of lasair, flame.—J. McN.
(40) Popular Proverbs, West Connacht, No. 3—Tabac i ndiaiḋ bíḋ is le bean-a’-tiġe atá sin. It was, I have heard, the celebrated Caṫal, or Caṫaoir (for the name seems to have two forms) Mac Cába who said this. He was once entertained at a house, and, after dinner was over, requiring a smoke, he made use of the words above, which have now become a proverb, to which the woman of the house indignantly replied:—
“Ní’l sgraiste siuḃalta na tíre nár ṁaiṫ an diól dó a ḃeiṫ leis.”
Whereon MacCabe, with less wit than might have been expected from him, retorted:—
“Ná raiḃ teaċ ná tiġ ag a leag an ciós sin air;” i.e., MacCabe: “Tobacco after food; that is for the woman of the house [to give].”
She: “There's no vagabone travelling the country [like yourself] but has a right to have it with him.” Literally, “that it was not a good sufficiency for him it to be with him.”
MacCabe:“That there may neither be house nor home over the person who left that impost on him.”
MacCabe was really witty in his own wav. My friend, Seáġan O Ruaiḋriġ, told me that he was one day taking a drink in Sligo, and the host asked his name. “Caṫaoir Cába,” said he. “Caṫaoir agus cába,” said the host, pretending to misunderstand him, “sin beirt.” “And what’s your own name, my man?” said MacCabe. “Searlus Beirt,” said the host. “Searlus agus beirt,” said MacCabe, “sin triúr.” This is one of the few instances of a genuine Irish pun which I have come across.—An Chraoiḃín Aoiḃinn.
The following version of the same dialogue is from Galway:—
“Tabac tar éis bíḋ, is ar ḃean an tiġe atá sin.”
“A’s gaċ stróinse ḋá dtéiḋeann an tsliġe, is suaraċ an cíos tiġe air é sin.”
From Aran:—
An Fear Siuḃail: “Tabac tar éis bíḋ, is ar ḟear a’ tiġe atá sin.”
Fear an Tiġe: “Gaċ stróinse ḋá ndeacaiḋ an tsliġe se, is suaraċ an cíos tiġe air sin.”
An Fear Siuḃail: “Teaċ ná tioġḃus ná raiḃ as cíonn an té d’orduiġ an cíos sin air.”
The stranger’s answer is commended, not so much for its wit as for its vindication of a hospitable custom.—J. MacN.
(41) Proverbs 7—I remember, many years ago, hearing the origin of this proverb also. It occurred in a most extraordinary story called Pull an yee a vric (perhaps Poll andiaiḋ bruic), all about a badger who was a man, and whose hole was in Loughlynn; and everything that went down into the hole, as an axe, couples for a house, etc, came out in Norway. I have often tried to
