The foregoing song "Carrig River" or "Carrig Hill" was written by a travelling man.
There were soldiers sailing one time out to some war and there were soldiers from all parts of Ireland in this vessel and soldiers from other countries also. They are all singing songs about their own countries and there was one Wexfordman among them and he was listening to them all singin' their songs. In the latter end they asked him to sing a song. So he sang 'Carrig River' for them. When he was finished they all came over to him and shook hands with him and they said that it was the nicest song they ever heard.

Our hearts were light we knew no care as through the fields we strayed
But in vain those days have passed away when together we had played.
IV
Ah well I do remember when together we used roam,
O'er the lonely church of Carrig where the woodcock builds his home,
But nature it seems smiling all o'er it's rocky side.
And to silvery stream flows down between to join the Slaney's tide.
V.
The thoughts of you dear Carrig hills is ever in my mind
I have travelled this wide world over your equals I can't find,
With your lofty hills your waters bright 'tis you I do adore,
So dare thee well dear Carrig hill adieu for evermore.

Long ago when we were going to school Chaps were very wild. They were up to all devilment. There was three Chaps wan evening climbed up to the top of the Church of Carrig and sat on top of the barges. The master saw them. But he went in again. He was afraid they'd see him and get frightened. As soon as they came down he gave them the greatest hammering they ever got in their life.

In years gone by the Dead coach used to pass along this road between Carrig and Bannow. There was a man living here and he swore he'd seen Ould Captain Boyce in it wan night, as plain as I see you now. There used be two horses drawing it with no heads on them.

There was a man by the name of Mosey Kelly and wan night he was coming home from Carrig he met a stone roller coming again him. 'Twasn't rolling at all but turning on it's ends, and it going like the devil.

There was a small farmer wan time and he lived in Carrig and Barrow and he was what you'd call a struggling farmer, and he only had wan horse and this horse used to do all the work for him and he had for about twenty years. Begor a man when the horse was about twenty five or six didn't he die and the poor man was in an awful way and didnt know what to do or how he would manage as he had nothing to get in the springs work and he had no means of getting another horse and the neighbours around were not very charitable to him. He kept the horse for a couple of days anyhow as he didn't like burying him as he have no horse at all then either dead or alive. He told this neighbour about it anyhow and the loss he was at and didn't know how he was going to live at all. "Well" says the neighbour to him "I'll lett you what to do now. Skin the horse and sell it and you'll get a pound note for the skin and maybe you would happen on another old horse for the pound that would put in the

About Eighty years ago, mumming was wan of the most popular amusements in the country. A lot more used to follow them than yor now. They used to practice in barns around the district. They come to your barn wan night and then they'd come to my barn another night and so on. They used to have to go in secret sometimes in order to avoid the big crowds. At Christmas they used to have a big entertainment. They used often mum in the street of Carrig at Xmas. They used to personate Prince George, and Napoleon, the Emperor of Russia, and St Patrick. Twelve used to be in the set, and the Captain and he'd introduce them all wan by wan.

I
As I roamed out one evening in the pleasant month of May,
It was down by Carrig River I carelessly did stray,
When the hawthorn and sweet briar it would your heart illume,
And the rippling of the waters when the "frockuns" were in bloom.
II
I often times in vain regret the things I might have seen.
I've seen the past but can't forget the things that might have been,
As I strolled along the small brids song went rippling through the sky,
O'er the lonely church of Carrig hill where '98 men lie.
III
I often times go view the graves where my school mates do lie,
We often joined in harmless sport in the day that's long gone by.

On the tenth of February for sweet recreation
To Garbally Cross I straight took my way
My spirits were awakened by the sound of a horn
Down by Carrig-on-Ina how sweetly did play.
I inquired from a friend what cause is this music
In return in answer these words he did say.
Those are the Bree Harriers just out from their Kennells
I'm sorry I can't go with them to-day.
II
With quick steps I hastened to behold this fine music
And to my surprisement its there I then found
the lofty old oaks with its branches extemding
And all sorts of game that was in its abounds

VI
My heart and mind in pleasure find
In roring through those stones
And my thoughts shall be with you in Bree
Your loving Father Jones
VII
When eev I stir around Poulfur
I'll miss each homely face
Oh what athing each strangs do bring
Aroung tha windy place
VIII
I look again to see in vain
The peace & loved so well
The hill and glen & think again
& hear the chapel bell
VIIII
Farewell to Garrenstacle
Lo Ballyque and Bree
Lo Uracmine and Carrig
And all roung Gallrally.
E
And to each friend my love I send
And ask them when they pray
At pray's fret ask Joseph sweet
Lo guide me night and day