Posted by Butch on May 15, 2001 at 09:45:52:
Posted by spiceloft on May 14, 2001 at 22:04:16:
In Reply to: Re: Overlooking Lough Lannach" posted by Butch on May 14, 2001 at 02:13:17:
Never having been inveigled by red haired nurses nor having my poke pinched but knowing who wrote the Boree Log, reflects poorly on me, does it not, Butch?NEIN. THERE IS ANOTHER BARD FROM TRALEE IS NAME IS CHAS W.GLOVER . HE WROTE A VERY BEAUTIFULL SONG . The pale moon was rising above the green mountain. The sun was declining beneath the blue sea. When I strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain,That stands in the beautiful vale of Tralee. She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer. Yet ‘twas not her beauty alone that won me. Oh! no ‘twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning ,that made me love Mary, the rose of Tralee. With Thanks. Her name is Mary Ann Carrol ( maiden name). She told me she still had my book of verse. " Around The Booree Log" and she wanted to make to make sure I got it back, that was thirty years ago. Last week, I spent two hours going back over all the contributions since my absence and came upon the first mention of said book in over thirty years, by Que I believe, though to-night, I failed to locate that reference again, if indeed you were the source of that reference please forgive me . As my review of the past contributions was hasty in my eagerness to join the fray once more. This type of hurry in an already speeded up life is indeed waste as gems may be overlooked and seeds buried whilste turning over the soil. Contained within the reference was the written fact that the Author of the book was indeed an Australian priest ,while I thought it was written by a Scotish poet by the name of Robert Service. This brings me to a "poor reflection" In your corrective reply to my recitation I thought perhaps you might enlighten me with a brief biography of Mr Robert Service, you see when I included his name at the end as being the Author I realised I was inviting contradiction ,from someone,someone well versed. I can, like anyone else perhaps read an entire book and not remember anything save one phrase or sentence , or remember spoken words from individuals that are deemed important or wise or funny or profound or ghastly or trite I dont know that they are there or when they will pop out but from strange coincidence are saved for the oppurtune moment . In this particular case my very good friend from Armagh Mr Ciaran Tonner is able to recite "The Shooting of Dan Mcgrew" verbatim,but I am not!.However the last line stuck in my gullett the other night as I was readying my reply of abeyance and I observed; " That the lady that pinched his Poke was the lady thats known as Lou": are most certainly the words of a man from "down under" And now as I pen this piece I can see that the name "TANGMALANGMALLOO" belongs from where it came, Australia. Pontification such as I have engaged in here to -night is deemed to failure unless rescued by a story. I first heard Tngmlngmloo from my father as he recitated it to a group of people in our house on Newport Rd Castlebar. No doubt after suitable libation to which I was not a party to at the age of Ten. I vowed then to memorise the verses and brought the "Booree Log" on the boat with me to the United States. My wife and I eloped (ran away)to California and got married in the church of
"St John The Baptist" located in the small parish of San Lorenzo just outside the city of San Fransisco. Afterwards as we unsettled down to married life my wife decided to volunteer her services to the catholic school attached to the church. She was to help prepare the confirmation students to receive the sacrament of rites into the catholic church proper,as an assistant once a week for six months or so she tutured the more unruly of the class into a passable understanding of the cathecumine . Bringing back memories of my own fearing that I would be slapped across the face by the Archbishop and thrown out of the church if I did'nt answer his question correctly( a very paranoid intrepretation of the laying on of hands!) The day arrived soon enough a Saturday evening around five and all the kids were mustered up !! inside the church .Fr Seamas Farell presiding ,The Archbishop of San Fransisco in attendance to administer the sacraments with a suitable entourage of Monseigners on either side .Nuns in full regalia adorned the vestibule on the left side of the aisle and the would be soldiers on the right towards the front, my wife and the teachers were seated behind the students on the far right from the aisle and I was behind them like. Introductions being made and thank you for coming your lordship The archbishop came down the aisle to question his new flock . For this flock had turned into sheep , for every question the Vicar of Peter asked ,he was greeted with a stoney reply of silence as some kind of paralysis had spread through the herd in spite of the desperate promptings of my wife and her teacher as they whispered wildly the correct answers to no avail The Archbishop strugling now to cope , realised he had to pharase his questions in rhetorical fashion , Agus Cen Fa an Bfuil an Poc ar Bhuile in ea? Mar nil aon uisce beatha aige, Nac Ea a cairde?Agus cen fa an Bhuil mise ar bhfuile ? Mar ta me an tuirseac agus nil aon uisce beatha agamsa freisin nac sin e Buachailli agus a Cailini? And no bleats or bahhs were heard that day as the Archbishop answered all his own questions .Finally the ordeal was over and the Bishop in his benevolence confirmed all present and sent them home to their parents and the rest of us adjourned to the reception hall for the prepared dinner agus ruaille buaille . You have to hand it to the catholic church they sure know how to throw a do. The dining room tables were covered in white linen tablecloth and tastefully decorated with flowers and to set your heart at ease two bottles of wine spaced two feet apart for every foot of the open ended square, the archbishop sitting in the middle of course ,conversation abounded ,as the reilef spread like the wine around the crowd nuns priests lay people waiters bringing chicken and soup and more wine if you like go ahead and Bachus some more if you like. Father Seamas bringing the conversation to a hush with the spoon on the glass ringing . Announces that the entertainment for the evening had been involved in some kind of accident and would be unable to attend and would there be anyone in the audience be willing to vollunteer their services to entertain his lordship. A couple of nuns stood up to sing Danny Boy , one priest got his saxaphone and played yaketty sax, Then Fr. Seamas called to the room once more and a pregnant pause fell over the hushed crowd as they waited ....but glum and dumb and undismayed thro every bout I sat I seemed to think that I was there but was'nt sure of that! So up I gat and walked around to find myself in front of The Archbishop for a moment and Fr, Seamas Farrell fearing a disaster asking out loud what WAS I going to do Seamas? Bachus gave me a jab in the back and I was back in Tansey's, in the snug, the winter outside, Jessie getting more coal for the fire Grandad stoking his firepipe, Sammy bringing gin and tonics hot whiskey's with lemon smell of brandy Tom Murphy with his hat ,Mr Parsons, Michael J, Egan. Michael Hevernan, John Egan,Tom Mcgreal,Paddy Quinn. Master Golden, christmass eve as the old man sticks his thumbs in his waistcoat puffing out his belly bringing his lofty tone to a crescendo regaling us all with the tale of a Bishop in the old bush church in TANGMALANGMALLOO.