you need yourself give to another, and then be—a fool.) Duine ’na aonar duine gan aonne(aċ) (A person trusting to one is trusting to none, lit., a person in his one person, a person without anyone). Taḃair a roġa do’n ḃodaċ ⁊ béarfaiḋ sé díoġa duit (Give his choice to the churl, and he will give you the dregs).
Note:—Díoġa is opposed to roġa: diúġa is also heard in W. Cork, as atáim anois gan diuġa gan dadaoi (= dadaṁ).
Is fuar an tiġ naċ gnáṫuiġid na fir (Poor is the house where the men don’t dwell). Ná saoil go m-beiḋ Síġle ar ċois agat (Don’t think till you have Sheela by the foot = Don’t count your chickens before the eggs are hatched (There is a pun on saoil).
West Connacht (Mr. O’Faherty):—Regarding the day of the week in which it is thought best to begin a journey, the following verse is said:—
Ná déan imirc Luan nó Máirt;
Ná Dia-Ceudaoin, lá ar n-a ḃáraċ;
Biḋeann Dia-ḋardaoin soirḃ, sáṁ;
Is iondual an Aoine ag báisdiġ;
Fág an Saṫarn ag Muire Ṁáṫair
’S imṫiġ Dia Doṁnaiġ, mar is é
is fearr duit.
Do not move on Monday or Tuesday, or on the next day, Wednesday; Thursday is usually calm and gentle; Friday is often raining; leave Saturday to Mother Mary, and go on Sunday, as it is this is best for you.
Some versions have in the last line, má’s é is fearr leat, if you prefer this, if you wish.
This word imirc (in some places imiriġe; compare comairce and comuiriġe) is the word used for a “flitting.” In the Arann Islands imirc uaḃair, lit., “flitting of pride,” is said when a person without any sufficient reason changes his residence. But perhaps this is really imirc ḟoġṁair, a harvest flitting. Iondual is a very common word in the West; is iondual (ooN′-dhoo-ăl) aṁlaiḋ, and is often thus. The consecration of Saturday to the B.V. Mary is very ancient.
An old hymn (Mr. O’Faherty):—
Fuair mé an Ṗaidir so ó Ṁáire Lása (Lacy):
Sínim síos mar ṡín Críost san gcroiċ,
Brat Muire mar sgaball orm;
A Ṁuire ḋílis, mo ṁíle gráḋ ṫú!
Mo liaiġ léiġis, tinn a’s slán ṫú!
Mo ḟíor-ċaraid ar nuair mo ḃáis ṫú!
A Ṁaiġdean Ṁuire, taḃair m’anam slán
leat
Ar do ḋeas-láiṁ go cúirt na ngrása.
Compare this with the West Cork hymn given before:—I lie down as Christ lay on the cross; Mary’s cloak be a protection (scapular) on me. Dear Mary, my thousand loves art thou; my leech of healing, whether sick or well; my true friend at the hour of my death. Mary, Virgin, bring my soul with thee safe to the court of graces, on thy right hand.
Another short hymn is often joined to the above:—
Tá ceiṫre coirnéil ar mo leabaiḋ,
Tá ceiṫre aingil orra sgarṫa,
Na trí aingil is áirde i ḃflaiṫeas
A ċúṁdaċ ’s a ġárdáil m’anam arís go
maidin.
Four corners on my bed, four angels on them spread; the three highest angels in heaven be protecting and guarding my soul till morn again.
There is an old English hymn of much the same import.
To test one’s articulation, the following may be said nine times, “without drawing breath”:—Cearc uisge ar loċ uisce, a’s í ag plubáil ’s ag plabáil, cia déaraiḋ naoi n-uaire é, gan foilliġe, gan failliġe? A water-hen, on a water-lake, and she
