will be very angry when he hears about the accident to the mare.' This is an Irish idiom. The Irish chiefs, when signing their names to any doc.u.ment, always wrote the name in this form, _Misi O'Neill_, i.e. 'Myself O'Neill.'

A usual expression is 'I have no Irish,' i.e. I do not know or speak Irish.

This is exactly the way of saying it in Irish, of which the above is a translation:--_Ni'l Gaodhlainn agum_.

To _let on_ is to pretend, and in this sense is used everywhere in Ireland.

'Oh your father is very angry': 'Not at all, he's only letting on.' 'If you meet James don't let on you saw me,' is really a positive, not a negative request: equivalent to--'If you meet James, let on (pretend) that you didn't see me.' A Dublin working-man recently writing in a newspaper says, 'they pa.s.sed me on the bridge (Cork), and never let on to see me' (i.e.

'they let on not to see me').

'He is all _as one as_ recovered now'; he is nearly the same as recovered.

At the proper season you will often see auctioneers' posters:--'To be sold by auction 20 acres of splendid meadow _on foot_,' &c. This term _on foot_, which is applied in Ireland to _growing_ crops of all kinds--corn, flax, meadow, &c.--is derived from the Irish language, in which it is used in the oldest doc.u.ments as well as in the everyday spoken modern Irish; the usual word _cos_ for 'foot' being used. Thus in the Brehon Laws we are told that a wife's share of the flax is one-ninth if it be on foot (_for a cois_, {48} 'on its foot,' modern form _air a chois_) one-sixth after being dried, &c. In one place a fine is mentioned for appropriating or cutting furze if it be 'on foot.' (Br. Laws.)

This mode of speaking is applied in old doc.u.ments to animals also. Thus in one of the old Tales is mentioned a present of a swine and an ox _on foot_ (_for a coiss_, 'on their foot') to be given to Mac Con and his people, i.e. to be sent to them alive--not slaughtered. (Silva Gadelica.) But I have not come across this application in our modern Irish-English.

To give a thing 'for G.o.d's sake,' i.e. to give it in charity or for mere kindness, is an expression very common at the present day all over Ireland.

'Did you sell your turf-rick to Bill Fennessy?' Oh no, I gave it to him for G.o.d's sake: he's very badly off now poor fellow, and I'll never miss it.'

Our office attendant Charlie went to the clerk, who was chary of the pens, and got a supply with some difficulty. He came back grumbling:--'A person would think I was asking them for G.o.d's sake' (a thoroughly Hibernian sentence). This expression is common also in Irish, both ancient and modern, from which the English is merely a translation. Thus in the Brehon Laws we find mention of certain young persons being taught a trade 'for G.o.d's sake' (_ar Dia_), i.e. without fee: and in another place a man is spoken of as giving a poor person something 'for G.o.d's sake.'

The word _'nough_, shortened from _enough_, is always used in English with the possessive p.r.o.nouns, in accordance with the Gaelic construction in such phrases as _gur itheadar a n-doithin diobh_, 'So that {49} they ate their enough of them' ('Diarmaid and Grainne'): _d'ith mo shaith_ 'I ate my enough.' Accordingly uneducated people use the word _'nough_ in this manner, exactly as _fill_ is correctly used in 'he ate his fill.' Lowry Looby wouldn't like to be 'a born gentleman' for many reasons--among others that you're expected 'not to ate half your 'nough at dinner.' (Gerald Griffin: 'Collegians.')

The words _world_ and _earth_ often come into our Anglo-Irish speech in a way that will be understood and recognised from the following examples:--'Where in the world are you going so early?' 'What in the world kept you out so long?' 'What on earth is wrong with you?' 'That cloud looks for all the world like a man.' 'Oh you young thief of the world, why did you do that?' (to a child). These expressions are all thrown in for emphasis, and they are mainly or altogether imported from the Irish. They are besides of long standing. In the 'Colloquy'--a very old Irish piece--the king of Leinster says to St. Patrick:--'I do not know _in the world_ how it fares [with my son].' So also in a still older story, 'The Voyage of Maildune':--'And they [Maildune and his people] knew not whither _in the world_ (_isan bith_) they were going. In modern Irish, _Ni chuirionn se tabhacht a n-einidh san domhuin_: 'he minds nothing in the world.' (Mac Curtin.)

But I think some of the above expressions are found in good English too, both old and new. For example in a letter to Queen Elizabeth the Earl of Ormond (an Irishman--one of the Butlers) designates a certain Irish chief 'that most arrogant, {50} vile, traitor of the world Owney McRorye'

[O'Moore]. But perhaps he wrote this with an Irish pen.

A person does something to displease me--insults me, breaks down my hedge--and I say 'I will not let that go with him': meaning I will bring him to account for it, I will take satisfaction, I will punish him. This, which is very usual, is an Irish idiom. In the story of The Little Brawl of Allen, Goll boasts of having slain Finn's father; and Finn answers _bud maith m'acfainnse ar gan sin do leicen let_, 'I am quite powerful enough not to let that go with you.' ('Silva Gadelica.') Sometimes this Anglo-Irish phrase means to vie with, to rival. 'There's no doubt that old Tom Long is very rich': 'Yes indeed, but I think Jack Finnerty _wouldn't let it go with him_.' Lory Hanly at the dance, seeing his three companions sighing and obviously in love with three of the ladies, feels himself just as bad for a fourth, and sighing, says to himself that he 'wouldn't let it go with any of them.' ('Knocknagow.')

'I give in to you' means 'I yield to you,' 'I a.s.sent to (or believe) what you say,' 'I acknowledge you are right': 'He doesn't give in that there are ghosts at all.' This is an Irish idiom, as will be seen in the following:--[A lion and three dogs are struggling for the mastery and]

_adnaigit [an triur eile] do [an leomain]_ 'And the three others gave in to the [lion].'

This mode of expression is however found in English also:--[Beelzebub]

'proposes a third undertaking which the whole a.s.sembly gives in to.'

(Addison in 'Spectator.') {51}

_For_ is constantly used before the infinitive: 'he bought cloth _for to_ make a coat.'

'And "Oh sailor dear," said she, "How came you here by me?"

And then she began _for to cry_.'

(Old Irish Folk Song.)

'King James he pitched his tents between His lines _for to retire_.'

(Old Irish Folk Song: 'The Boyne Water.')

This idiom is in Irish also: _Deunaidh duthracht le leas bhur n-anma a dheunadh_: 'make an effort _for to accomplish_ the amendment of your souls.' ('Dunlevy.') Two Irish prepositions are used in this sense of _for_: _le_ (as above) and _chum_. But this use of _for_ is also very general in English peasant language, as may be seen everywhere in d.i.c.kens.

_Is ceangailte do bhidhinn_, literally 'It is bound I should be,' i.e. in English 'I should be bound.' This construction (from 'Diarmaid and Grainne'), in which the position of the predicate as it would stand according to the English order is thrown back, is general in the Irish language, and quite as general in our Anglo-Irish, in imitation or translation. I once heard a man say in Irish _is e do chailleamhuin do rinn me_: 'It is to lose it I did' (I lost it). The following are everyday examples from our dialect of English: ''Tis to rob me you want': 'Is it at the young woman's house the wedding is to be?' ('Knocknagow'): 'Is it reading you are?' ''Twas to dhrame it I did sir' ('Knocknagow'): 'Maybe 'tis turned out I'd be' ('Knocknagow'): 'To lose it I did' (Gerald Griffin: 'Collegians'): 'Well John I am glad to {52} see you, and it's right well you look': [Billy thinks the fairy is mocking him, and says:--] 'Is it after making a fool of me you'd be?' (Crofton Croker): 'To make for Rosapenna (Donegal) we did:' i.e., 'We made for Rosapenna': 'I'll tell my father about your good fortune, and 'tis he that will be delighted.'

In the fine old Irish story the 'Pursuit of Dermot and Grania,' Grania says to her husband Dermot:--[Invite guests to a feast to our daughter's house]

_agus ni feas nach ann do gheubhaidh fear cheile_; 'and there is no knowing but that there she may get a husband.' This is almost identical with what Nelly Donovan says in our own day--in half joke--when she is going to Ned Brophy's wedding:--'There'll be some likely lads there to-night, and who knows what luck I might have.' ('Knocknagow.') This expression 'there is no knowing but' or 'who knows but,' borrowed as we see from Gaelic, is very common in our Anglo-Irish dialect. 'I want the loan of 20 badly to help to stock my farm, but how am I to get it?' His friend answers:--'Just come to the bank, and who knows but that they will advance it to you on my security:' meaning 'it is not unlikely--I think it rather probable--that they will advance it'

'He looks like a man _that there would be_ no money in his pocket': 'there's _a man that his wife leaves him_ whenever she pleases.' These phrases and the like are heard all through the middle of Ireland, and indeed outside the middle: they are translations from Irish. Thus the italics of the second phrase would be in Irish _fear da d-treigeann a bhean e_ (or _a threigeas a bhean e_). 'Poor brave honest Mat Donovan that everyone is proud of _him_ and fond {53} of _him_' ('Knocknagow'): 'He was a descendant of Sir Thomas More that Henry VIII. cut his head off' (whose head Henry VIII. cut off). The phrases above are incorrect English, as there is redundancy; but they, and others like them, could generally be made correct by the use of _whose_ or _of whom_:--'He looks like a man in whose pocket,' &c.--'A man whose wife leaves him.' But the people in general do not make use of _whose_--in fact they do not know how to use it, except at the beginning of a question:--'Whose knife is this?' (Russell.) This is an excellent example of how a phrase may be good Irish but bad English.

A man possesses some prominent quality, such as generosity, for which his father was also distinguished, and we say 'kind father for him,' i.e. 'He is of the same _kind_ as his father--he took it from his father.' So also ''Tis kind for the cat to drink milk'--'cat after kind'--''Tis kind for John to be good and honourable' [for his father or his people were so before him]. All this is from Irish, in which various words are used to express the idea of _kind_ in this sense:--_bu cheneulta do_--_bu dhual do_--_bu dhuthcha do_.

Very anxious to do a thing: ''Twas all his trouble to do so and so'

('Collegians'): corresponding to the Irish:--'_Is e mo churam uile_,' 'He (or it) is all my care.' (MacCurtin.)

Instead of 'The box will hold all the parcels' or 'All the parcels will fit into the box,' we in Ireland commonly say 'All the parcels _will go_ into the box.' This is from a very old Gaelic usage, as may be seen from this quotation from the 'Boroma':--_Coire mor uma i teigtis da muic dec_: 'A large bronze caldron {54} into which _would go_ (teigtis) twelve [jointed]

pigs.' ('Silva Gadelica.')

_Chevilles._ What is called in French a _cheville_--I do not know any Irish or English name for it--is a phrase interjected into a line of poetry merely to complete either the measure or the rhyme, with little or no use besides. The practice of using chevilles was very common in old Irish poetry, and a bad practice it was; for many a good poem is quite spoiled by the constant and wearisome recurrence of these _chevilles_. For instance here is a translation of a couple of verses from 'The Voyage of Maildune'

with their _chevilles_:--

'They met with an island after sailing-- _wonderful the guidance_.

'The third day after, on the end of the rod-- _deed of power_-- The chieftain found--_it was a very great joy_-- a cl.u.s.ter of apples.'

In modern _Irish_ popular poetry we have _chevilles_ also; of which I think the commonest is the little phrase _gan go_, 'without a lie'; and this is often reflected in our Anglo-Irish songs. In 'Handsome Sally,' published in my 'Old Irish Music and Songs,' these lines occur:--

'Young men and maidens I pray draw near-- _The truth to you I will now declare_-- How a fair young lady's heart was won All by the loving of a farmer's son.'

And in another of our songs:--

'Good people all I pray draw near-- _No lie I'll tell to ye_-- About a lovely fair maid, And her name is Polly Lee.'

{55}

This practice is met with also in English poetry, both cla.s.sical and popular; but of course this is quite independent of the Irish custom.

_a.s.sonance._ In the modern Irish language the verse rhymes are _a.s.sonantal_. a.s.sonance is the correspondence of the vowels: the consonants count for nothing. Thus _fair_, _may_, _saint_, _blaze_, _there_, all rhyme a.s.sonantally. As it is easy to find words that rhyme in this manner, the rhymes generally occur much oftener in Anglo-Irish verse than in pure English, in which the rhymes are what English grammarians call _perfect_.

Our rustic poets rhyme their English (or Irish-English) verse a.s.sonantally in imitation of their native language. For a very good example of this, see the song of Castlehyde in my 'Old Irish Music and Songs'; and it may be seen in very large numbers of our Anglo-Irish Folk-songs. I will give just one example here, a free translation of an elegy, rhyming like its original. To the ear of a person accustomed to a.s.sonance--as for instance to mine--the rhymes here are as satisfying as if they were _perfect_ English rhymes.

You remember our _neigh_bour Mac_Bra_dy we buried last YEAR; His death it _amaz_ed me and _daz_ed me with sorrow and GRIEF; From _cra_dle to _grave_ his _name_ was held in ESTEEM; For at _fairs_ and at _wakes_ there was no one like him for a SPREE; And 'tis he knew the _way_ how to _make_ a good cag of potTHEEN.

He'd make verses in _Gael_ic quite _ais_y most _plaz_ing to READ; And he knew how to _plaze_ the fair _maids_ with his soothering SPEECH.

He could clear out a _fair_ at his _aise_ with his ash clehalPEEN; But ochone he's now _laid_ in his _grave_ in the churchyard of KEEL.

{56}

CHAPTER V.

THE DEVIL AND HIS 'TERRITORY.'

Bad as the devil is he has done us some service in Ireland by providing us with a fund of anecdotes and sayings full of drollery and fun. This is all against his own interests; for I remember reading in the works of some good old saint--I think it is St. Liguori--that the devil is always hovering near us watching his opportunity, and that one of the best means of scaring him off is a good honest hearty laugh.