recover this story, but in vain; I am afraid it is hopelessly lost. If I remember rightly, it was the badger’s flesh, in the broth of which there lay miraculous power, which gave rise, I was told, to the proverb.
(42) August, p. 79, Note—Corraiġeaċt agus fiċe púnt. I have sometimes heard corr agus fiċe púnt. Compare the beautiful Scotch Gaelic song, which I quote from memory:—
“Ṫug mé corr agus naoi míosa
Ann sna h-ínnsean is faide ṫall
’S bean bóiḋead eudann cha raiḃ ri faotan
’S dá ḃfáġainn saor iad cha n-ḟanḟainn ann.”
“I spent over nine months in the islands furthest back, and a woman of beauty of face there was not to be got; and if I were to get them for nothing, I would not remain there.”
(43) The Scotch words bóiḋead, “beauty,” and bóiḋeaċ, “beautiful,” remind me to ask, where on earth did Thomas Davis get the word baotho, which he uses in one of his poems, and explains in a foot-note to mean “beautiful?” The line runs, I think—
“‘O baotho! O baotho! O baotho!’ I said;”
but I am not sure of what poem it is in.
(44) Sgeaṁaiġil, pronounced both skav-eel and sk’yow-eel, I have heard for sharp noises, like high-pitched screaming, etc. I do not think I have heard it of a dog. Here is a locus classicus from an old, probably Eliza- bethan, poet, who was so annoyed by his bed-fellow’s snoring that he said:—
“Mná móḋaċ’ go ngoiṁ ag dul
Gar áraċ ar sdur dá mbrón,
Caoi ċaḋain ar oiḋċe ḟuair
Is binne ’ná fuaim do ṡrón’;
Sgeaṁġail sgine re sgrios práis
Ni ṁeasaim gur páis do m’ ċeann,
No géim cáirte re cloic ċruaiḋ
O’n dord tig uait ar mo ṗeall.”
i.e., “Handsome women, with bitterness weeping, without help to [cause them] cease from their grief; the wail of a barnacle goose on a cold night—they are more melodious than the voice of thy nose. The sgeamhghail of a knife scraping brass I do not deem a torture to my head, nor the roar of a cart over hard stones, in comparison with the aord which comes from you upon my pallet.”—An Chraoiḃín Aoiḃinn.
(45) In the song An Spailpín Fánaċ, which was re- printed in a recent number of the Journal, the word lítis occurs. What does it mean? An Buinneán Aoraċ makes it clear that he is not satisfied that it means lily. I am strongly of a opinion that it is an abstract noun. It may mean lily whiteness; but this is mere conjecture. I have never heard the word used. I have asked several Irish speakers what its meaning is; but none of them could enlighten me. I have seen it nowhere except in the “Poets and Poetry of Munster,” second series, and there it occurs at least four times. In a song by John Collins, entitled An Buaċaill Bán, these verses occur (p. 4, ll. 1, 2):
“Do ḃí uile ṡoillse na gréine ag rainceaḋ
’Na leacain ṁíonla tre lítis bán.”
Again, I find the following verses in David O’Herlihy’s Táid Ag Teaċt (p. 46, ll. 16 18):
“Lítis agus caora
Bhí ag coiṁeasgair ’s ag pléireaċt
Go fíoċṁar ’na séiṁ-leacain ġrinn.”
Again, in An Spailpín Fánaċ, we have (p. 78, l. 23)—
’Na mbéiḋ lasaḋ trí lítis ’na gnaoi mar eala.”
Finally, in Siġile Bheag Ní Chonnolláin, by William O’Leanain, I find (p. 142, ll. 14, 15)—
“Bhí daṫ na gcaor ’san lítis
Ag coiṁeasgar ’na cruṫ go h-árd.”
Collins and O’Herlihy were both natives of Cork; O’Leanain was a native of Kerry, and so likewise, as is evident from the song itself, was the anonymous author of An Spailpín Fánaċ. The meaning of lítis ought, therefore, to be understood in Cork and Kerry; and per- haps some reader of the Journal, hailing from one or other of these counties, may be able to definitely fix its signifi- cation. I wonder if it can possibly be a loan-word from the Greek. Considering the classical traditions of Cork and Kerry, and indeed of Munster generally, it may per- haps be. If it be, it undoubtedly means smoothness, and is either from λῖτός (smooth), or λειότης (smoothness.)
Miċéal P. O hIceaḋa, C.C.
(46) June, p. 39: is trom í an ċearc i ḃfad; in Aran (Galway) this proverb runs is trom cearc i ḃfad, and is understood to mean that (even so light a burden as) a hen is heavy (when carried) far. The meaning of the two proverbs from West Clare marked doubtful seems to me fairly clear: is fearr suiḋe i mbun na cruaiċe ’ná suiḋe in a h-áit, it is better to have a stack to watch than the empty place of one; is beag rud is buaine ’ná an duine points to the shortness and uncertainty of human life.
Mr. J. H. Lloyd has transmitted a note from Mr. Flannery, in which, summing up what has been written about the Waterford saying. nár éirġiḋ an t-aċsaḋas leat, he adheres strongly to the view that the word in question originates not from excise, but from success, or the French equivalent, succès.
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