aisteaċ sa ṗárlús. Do leaṫ a ṡúile air nuair ċonnairc sé an rud sáiḋte sa ṁéis. Do ṫóg a ċos agus do ḃuail. “Oċ!” arsa Diarmuid agus é naċ mór taċtuiġte. Buaileaḋ arís é, aċt níor sgar le n-a ġreim. Fé ḋeireaḋ, do rugaḋ air agus do caiṫeaḋ air ṁullaċ a ċinn air an dorus amaċ é, idir ċos caoir-ḟeola agus uile. D’eiriġ sé agus ṫug aġaiḋ air an n-doċtúir agus duḃairt. “Faire! Faire! a ḋoċtúir na Smaoínte, ná biḋeaḋ ceist ort! Béiḋ ar n-dóiṫin araon ann!” Ní ḟeudfaḋ an fear boċt “Doċtúir Mac Suiḃne” do ráḋ, agus nuair ċuireaḋ sé ċuige, is é rud a ṫagaḋ “Doċtúir na Smaoínte.” Ġeiḃeaḋ daoíne magaḋ annsan féin, agus deirṫí gur ḃ’é Diarmuid an Stoca a ṫug an t-ainm ceart air an n-doċtúir mar gur ṁó go mór an maċtnaṁ a ḋeineaḋ sé ’ná an leiġeas a ḋeineaḋ sé.
TRANSLATION.
“There will be enough for us both in it.” This is a saying belonging to Diarmott of the Stocking. This is the same Diarmott, when the priest said to him that it was “a grey (chilly) day,” who gave as answer upon him, “Upon my own word, Father, that it is cold whatever colour is on it.”
There was a knowledge of Diarmott within ten miles of Macroom on every side. There was a welcome, and a meal, and a night’s lodging for him in every house—rich and poor—because he was “a person who belonged, in a special manner, to God.” (An idiot.) He understood, in his own mind, that this was neither more or less than his right—(that there was not in this but his right). In his opinion both the people and the houses were his. If there was joy in a house, there was no person in that house more glad of it than Diarmott. If there was grief in a house, no person in that house was more grieved at it than Diarmott. When Buck na Carraigi was after dying, people saw Diarmott going towards the wake. They spoke to him but he took no notice whatever of them. They persevered at him to take talk out of him. At last he turned upon them with anger, and he said, “It is a great shame for ye that would not let me alone to-day, and my heart broken and bruised by the loss which I have, stretched there above”!
It was impossible for a gentleman to put out an invitation to dinner unknown to Diarmott, and as a matter of course Diarmott used to be there at the hour, without fail, without mistake, without invitation. Dr. M‘Sweeney put out an invitation one day. Diarmott walked eastward towards the doctor’s house. It was a little bit early. Diarmott found the gate open and a fine smell on the wind. He followed the smell. He found the door of the big house open. He went in. He looked around him. There was a door open on his right hand. He went in again. He saw the big table. He saw the dish. He saw the leg of mutton. He put his right hand in the heel of it. He put his left hand in the apple (hip) of it. He put his mouth in the middle of it to the cars. He began to choke himself on his best with mutton. The doctor heard some noise. He looked out through an upper window. He saw the gate wide open. Then he is down stairs and into the parlour. His eyes spread upon him when he saw the thing stuck in the dish. He raised his foot and struck. “Och!” said Diarmott, and he nearly choked. He was struck again, “Och!” said he again, but he did not let go his grip. At last he was taken and flung on the top of his head, out of the door, leg of mutton and all. He got up and turned his face upon the doctor and said, “Fie! fie! Doctor of the thoughts, don’t be disturbed in your mind! There will be enough for the two of us in it!” The poor man used not be able to say “Doctor MacSwiney,” and when he used to try, the thing that used to come was “Doctor of the thoughts.” People used to get fun in that same, and it used to be said, that it was Diarmott of the Stocking that gave the right name upon the Doctor, because that the meditation he used to make was greater far than the curing he used to make.
NOTES.
Leis an g-creaċ atá air lár agan. In the translation of this passage I had to place a comma after the word have, to show that it is not an auxiliary in connection with the word stretched.
I never heard this story told without its eliciting roars of laughter. The comical motive which Diarmuid suggests for the doctor's anger, viz., that there would not be enough in the leg of mutton for himself and the doctor, never fails to take the audience by storm. I have translated the story as literally as I possibly could, in order to enable a beginner to catch the idioms.
Peadar ua Laoġaire.
NOTES AND QUERIES.
(20) see (7) and (19) Nár éiriġiḋ an t-acsaḋs leat. Mr. Thos. Flannery deserves great credit for the ingenuity with which he has tried to explain this phrase. There is, however, at least one weak point in his explanation. He does not sufficiently show why the hypothetical form socsaḋas should be used as a feminine noun. The use of it as such would be contrary to the well-known general rule of gender, to which borrowed words are made to conform, viz., nouns whose characteristic vowel is broad are usually masculine, and those whose characteristic vowel is slender, feminine. That loan-words follow this rule is clear from sgilling, s.f. O. Eng. scilling, feoirling, s.f. O. Eng. feordhling, príosún, s.m. Eng. prison, spás, s.m. Eng. space, aṁantur, s.m. Fr. aventure, &c. Besides, the Fr. succes is masculine, and if borrowed into Irish would hardly change its gender contrary to Irish rules of gender.
I am still inclined to think that the original equation of acsaḋs = excise is correct, but I would make the phrase mean the very opposite of what is suggested in the query.
