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1. Jimmie Mc Cadden's Broken Promises

   

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   It is now eight years since my friend, Frank Curneen, and I spent our last day fishing on the river Bonet. I will always remember that day, for it was, as we sat on the Belloona Bridge, looking over Glenade lake, that we got information that led to our finding the man who was able to explain how the two great rocks came to rest on the lake shore near the bank of the river. As we sat on the bridge an old farmer came down the road, he stopped to speak to us, or, rather, we got in his way, for we were anxious to hear something about those two unusually large stones that seemed to be put there by some power other than nature. When we mentioned the matter to the old farmer he was silent for a little, then he said: "I'm afraid there is no one about here now that could tell you about them rocks except Rory M'Govern up in Lisnabrack; he once lived here in Largy." He left us at that and, as we knew where the townland of Lisnabrack lay, we decided to go the following Sunday night to see Rory. After a few enquiries along the road, we came to Rory's little thatched house. On entering we found him sitting by the fire cooking his supper. We soon mentioned the reason for our visit, and when Rory took the pot from the fire, he lit his pipe, sat back against the wall and started to tell us the following story which, indeed, explains the presence of the two peculiar stones embedded in the shore of Glenad lawe:--"Jimmie M'Cadden of Ballyglass, was a young man who was fond of keeping a good greyhound. One day he decided on going to Largy mountain for a hunt, and on his way he put a hare on the Bar of glebe and the dog and hare disappeared into a fort in Tully, in a place called Bradogue, Jimmie went into the for to try and find his dog, but as it was a very warm day fatigue overcame Jimmie in his search, he lay down and soon was fast asleep." Like most young fellows Jimmie had often pictured himself a married man with a pretty girl for his wife; how as he awoke from his slumber in the fort he saw a beautiful girl approach him and he rubbed his eyes for he did not think such a lovely firl existed, in fact he felt and must have looked nervous, for the girl said: "Well, Jimmie, why fearest thou a maid like me, haven't you been planning to marry a good-looking girl? What do you think about me, or do I come up to our expectation?" "Glory be to God," said Jimmie, "your the finest looking girl I ever set eyes on." "Well," said the girl, "if I marry you now you will have to make three promises, and, remember Jimmie, three promises you must keep, or if not it will be ill for you." Jimmie immediately agreed to promise anything, and asked her to name what she required. The maiden said--"Well, here they are: (1) you can never go home until I have some one to talk to me in your absence; (2) you will never think of any other girl while I live, and (3) you will never go out and come back again to the house without bringing something to leave on the fire." Jimmie swore to keep all three promises and they were married next day. Jimmie's wife was a very wealthy lady with land and cattle; so their marriage proved very happy for some years. At the end of seven years' married life Jimmie's wife said: "Jimmie, it is time you went home to see your father and mother" (Jimmie had three sons now) "take two of the best horses in the stable and go, but be sure to keep your promises while you are away." So Jimmie started for home to see the old people. Now, in the old days, Jimmie was fond of a firl at home (she was a daughter of Andy the Spriggers), and as he climbed the hill to Ballyglass who should he meet coming down to Lurganboy but his old girlfriend. Well, who could blame the poor fellow to kiss the girl after seven years' absence, and her he did, and the promise he had made about girls never crossed his mind at the time, but the following night as he sat between his father and mother at the fire the thought struck him that he had broken one of the promises made seven years ago to his wife. As his father's house was beside Keegan's wood there was a fine fire of beech on the hearth, but it was not able to cheer up poor Jimmie that night, and the next morning at break of day he started home to his wife. As he approached the house he thought it strange that neither his wife nor sons were out to meet him; they always met him with a welcome even if he were away for only one day. Jimmie jumped down from his horse and rushed into the house (forgetting to take something for the girl) to find his wife sitting by the fire in a very downcast mood. He asked if she were sick or what was wrong. She answered saying; "There is a great deal wrong now, Jimmie' you have broken two of your promises and I must leave you". Poor Jimmie tried to explain but it was no use, off went herself and her three sons in the direction of Glenade lake with Jimmie following begging her to come back, and that he would be faithful to his promises in future, but it was all of no avail. He saw his wife and sons disappear into the lake, and to make things worse all their cattle, sheep, and horses followed them to the bottom of the lake, only Jimmie's dog remaining. Jimmie spent all that day crying by the lake shore not knowing what to do. Then a plan formed in his mind, if he could get help to drain the lake he would surely find his family again. So early next morning he asked the young men of the neighbourhood to come and help him make a canal out of the lake. "I was one of the lads who went to help Jimmie," said Rory M'Govern, "and didn't we get on well with the work when by dinner tine the lake had gone down so much that we could see the chimneys of what appeared to be a great castle in the centre of the lake. Then as we stood watching the water flow away with Jimmie in great spirits in the sure hope of finding his wife again, a whistle sounded on Largy Rock and it was answered by another in Pullahiagha, and the next instant there came two huge rocks flying through the air, one from the direction of each whistle, they met with a bang over Balloona Bridge and fell into the canal we had just made. No human power could ever hope to move these huge boulders. The lake quickly filled up to its old level, and Jimmie's hopes were gone forever. "For the remaining five or six years of his life," concluded Rory, "Jimmie M'Cadden might be met on the Glebe-Largy road on is Brian Bawn's wood gazing down at the lake, for he never went back to Ballyglass. The only little pastime he had was when he went out with his dog for a race on the Largy mountain. The dog he had at the end of his days was a direct descendant of Fido--the one that led Jimmie to meet his wife--and, strange to say, this young dog always avoided in an 'uncanny' way the Bradogue Fort."

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2. Tales of Superstitions and Legends from North Leitrim

   

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   Intelligent, hard-headed, and practical, the North Leitrim people are in all their ordinary dealings. They are also a jovial, quick-witted people who at all times, or nearly so, give the impression that questions concerning what might be termed the occult do not give them serious thought. And yet, when conversation is turned in that direction a serious thoughtfulness is at once apparent and the listener may be told of happenings which go to show that old beliefs still linger in the minds of the people.
   Here is a story I recently heard of the "taking" of butter from a neighbour's churn. The tale was told to me by a man who had it told directly to him by the woman concerned. His method of narration gave me to understand that he was not sceptical. "This was an intelligent woman" he said, "and above the ordinary." I don't believe much in superstition but I could not disregard the story she told me. She had five cows and for a number of years was getting no butter for her churning. One particular morning in June herself and her husband were churning away and after being at it for a considerable time were on the point of giving it up when an old "travelling woman" came in and sat down at the fire and started to smoke her pipe. She heard the people of the house complaining and heard the woman say "we will throw it to the calves there is no use working at it any longer." On hearing this the old "travelling woman" asked what was wrong and was told
   "someone was taking the butter." The old woman asked if they had any suspicions of any particular neighbour, and was told that a neighbour with a small number of cows was suspected, and that the neighbour with few cows had always a very big supply of butter. On hearing this the "old crony" of a travelling woman remarked to the woman of the house: "There is only one cure for you. Go into that woman's byre and bring a porringer with you. Go at night and draw milk from each of her cows. Bring it home and put it in your churn and your butter will come back." The "woman of the house" had a feeling that to do as she had been advised by the old woman of the roads would be an admission of her belief in superstition and contrary to her religious beliefs. To my narrator she said: "It was the hardest thing I was ever asked to do, but through desperation, I consented." From that day she had a normal supply of butter from her cows. The next time the suspected neighbour went to churn she found she had a very small return and she went at once into the other woman's house for the loan of salt but she did not get it.To have loaned the salt would have broken the cure. It is not lucky to lend salt."
   The above story is implicitly believed in the locality where it is told. Another I heard also concerns the "power" of certain people to "take" their neighbours property. It was told to me in this wise:-"Roshie was thirty years in bed and was supposed to be a witch. She could take money from your house by wishing it, or meal from your chest. She could do that from her bed. Before she took to the bed she used to stand on a hill on a May morning before the people were up and watch for the earliest smoke. The houses with the early smoke, she said, were the houses of the most industrious people. As she saw smoke curling from the chimneys she said:-"From the houses I see smoke in all the butter to me." Her wish or command always succeeded and her own house was always full of butter. One morning the priest, returning from a sick call, was sheltering behind a bush from heavy rain. He heard Roshie say:- "The butter from these houses to me." The priest, in a joke said "half of it to me." When he got home he found his house filled up with butter.

   

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