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Friday, March 27, 2009

Away with the fairies

By the time I tottered off to my room the hour was late, and I was rather feeling the various effects of

  • more than two pints of cider
  • a couple of hours of very vigorous dancing
  • learning a couple of new songs from Mr.Nolan,
not having a timepiece with me I had no idea what time it was when I was shaken awake by Mr.Connelly, but as he yelled at me that the tavern was afire my nostrils confirmed the tang of smoke in the air. The decision to sleep in my long-tailed shirt meant that I didn't have to worry about decency in the midst of the emergency, but even as I was pulling my knee-britches on Mr.Connelly asked me to help him save the strongbox which held his wife's few items of jewellery, and most of the family's savings.

I should explain at this point that the tavern was built into the side of a steep hill, so the window of my upstairs room opened perhaps six feet above the ground level, and it was through my room that Mr.Connelly urged his two older children to make their escape, their terrified mother accompanying them with baby Sean held tightly in her arms.

In the Connelly's private apartment we took hold of a small wooden chest no more than eighteen inches in any dimension by my reckoning, with sturdy black iron handles. But for its small size it still proved surprisingly heavy. At some length, between the two of us we manhandled the chest out of the window and dropped it to the ground where I was almost certain it would burst, but the iron bands on the lid, and around the sides held it firm.

Mr.Connelly insisted that I should jump next, and that is where things began to get confused. I wasn't confident about jumping even such a short distance to the ground and was trying to pluck up courage, that much I remember clearly. But then I think I was pushed.

Whether I landed badly, I'm not sure, but I don't remember anything between hesitating in the window, and waking. The next morning, when I woke I was cold, stiff and still only partly dressed. And laying on the hay in the hayloft of the stables opposite the tavern. Of course, my first thought was to look for the Connellys and see how badly the tavern had been damaged, and that was when I got the biggest surprise.

The building itself showed no signs of fire, but searching around to the rear of the building, the window of the room which I had occupied was ajar, and while I was out there, Angus the apprentice and potboy came down the hill, carrying a basket of fresh eggs and whistling cheerfully.

"'tis a fine clear morning for the fresh sweet air, is it not?"

I asked Angus if anything ... had happened last night, and of course he wanted to know why I might think anything had. So I was obliged to recount most of my recollection of events to him.

His face took on a thoughtful expression: "Well, I would say it is possible, though some might disagree, that the fair folk played a trick on you last night."

After that, there was no stemming the tide of gossip from the pub and I left as soon as was decently possible, but not without a fair bit of good-natured mirth at my expense; Mr.Connelly was kind enough to reassure me that his family's wealth was quite secure. But what concerned me more were the few, mostly the womenfolk, who crossed themselves and lowered their gaze as I left the village.

Still in Ireland

some notes on the history of Irish dance

a tantalizing glimpse of the history of firefighting in Ireland

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