North of Ireland Folk Tales for Children E-Book

Doreen McBride

• Herausgeber: THP Ireland
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 104

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

How did a spider change the course of history? What would a body in the chimney want with a lonely old woman? And what terrible deed could make a Celtic warrior cry? North of Ireland Folk Tales for Children is full of mermaids and pishogues, haunted dolmens and plenty of ghosts, rude Celts and bloodthirsty warriors. This collection of weird, wonderful and irreverently told tales from award-winning storyteller Doreen McBride is not for the faint of heart – and certainly not appropriate for adults.

Leseprobe

This book is dedicated to the pupils,and teachers, of Edenderry Primary School,Banbridge, who encouraged me in mywickedness and made helpful comments.

Illustrated by the author.Cover illustration by Su Eaton

WARNING: This book isnot suitable for adults.

First published 2019

The History Press

The Mill, Brimscombe Port

Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

© Doreen McBride, 2019

The right of Doreen McBride to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 0 7509 9121 6

Typesetting and origination by The History Press

Printed in Great Britain

eBook converted by Geethik Technologies

CONTENTS

Foreward

Introduction

 1King Brian Boru’s Talking Toes

 2The Amadan of Dough

 3Bricu’s Party

 4A Fearful Fright at the Proleek Dolmen

 5Dunluce Castle’s Kitchen Falls into the Sea

 6The Tailor and the Witch

 7The Strange Celts

 8St Patrick Makes a Monster Explode

 9Finn McCool, the Giant’s Causeway and Other Things

10The Body in the Chimney

11Robert the Bruce and the Spider

12Maggie’s Leap

13Belfast Ghosts

14The Wee Woman from Glencolmcille

15The Mermaid who Married a Mortal

FOREWORD

Do you know what folk tales are? I think they’re the kind of stories that have been handed down from the past. I think they mention real people and real events that have been exaggerated and changed over time so they’re unrecognisable. For instance, we know from historical records there once was a king Brian Boru, but I don’t believe his toes talked to each other! Do you? I also think there was a king called Conor and that an Irishman, called Conall Cearnach, was present at the Crucifixion. But did King Conor have a heart attack and die when he was told about it? Who knows?

My Granny Henry told me folk stories and I haven’t stopped telling them since! When I was young I told stories to my teddy bear and anything, or anyone, else who’d listen. After I had trained as a teacher I used to love scaring my pupils by telling them terrible tales, especially before lunch time. Then about thirty years ago I became a professional storyteller.

It was fun. I travelled the world on my tongue. It was like being paid to go on holiday. All I had to do was talk too much, and I do that anyway. Then I thought, ‘When I die my stories will die too!’ so I started to write them down.

This book contains some of my favourites. I hope you enjoy them, too. They are full of naughty words like piddle and poo, knickers and bum because people in folk tales must have had to piddle and poo, although not all of them wore knickers but they all had bums and did wee smelly ones and big smelly ones! In other words, they were human like you and me.

INTRODUCTION

It gives me great pleasure to introduce Doreen McBride’s new book of folk tales from the North of Ireland for children.

Doreen is a member of that ancient Irish profession – the seanachies or professional storytellers. I first met Doreen some thirty years ago on a dark, crisp Hallowe’en night. She sat in the ingle of a crackling turf fire, in an old-fashioned Irish cottage on the County Down coast. A born storyteller, she had gathered round her a rapt audience of children who hung on her every word as she transported them (and their parents) back to the lost world of Ireland long ago with tales of Tir-na-nOg (‘The Land of the Ever Young’), the Fairy Thorn and the Banshee. On that special night when tradition claims that ghosts and goblins stalk the land, Doreen enraptured her audience, who lingered long after the last tale was told, fearful of the long walk back down the dark Loanin and past the graveyard beyond.

In this book, Doreen McBride offers a medley of folk tales, old and new. The young reader will encounter King Brian Boru, the man who defeated the fierce Vikings and died at the Battle of Clontarf in 1014, as he grapples with a more challenging emergency. They will meet Bricu ‘of the bitter tongue’ (after whom Loughbrickland in County Down takes its name). They will travel with our esteemed storyteller to Cuchulain’s country in County Louth, where they will hear a scintillating tale about the ancient dolmen at Proleek – a kind of warrior’s tomb, enshrouded in mystery.

Here too we find the age-old story of how Robert the Bruce, King of Scotland, sought refuge in a cave on Rathlin Island, off the North Antrim coast, and was inspired by the determination of a spider there to return and save his native land. There are stirring tales of Finn McCool and the legend of the Giant’s Causeway – now a world-class heritage site. The traditional story of St Patrick and how he built first the church at Saul, Co. Down (from the Irish Sabhal, a barn) is beautifully told.

For me, however, the selection of ghost stories at the end of this volume evoked memories of spine-chilling tales of my childhood long ago. Read Doreen’s tales of the ghostly highwayman of Cave Hill (the swash-buckling Belfast ‘rapparee’, Naoise O’Haughan, executed at Carrickfergus Jail in 1720), the Ghost of Belfast’s historic harbour office and the tragic ‘spectres’ of the Lucifer match factory fire and sleep if you can!

Doreen McBride has used her legendary story-telling skills and imagination to create a series of thrilling, locally based folk tales that combine a sense of the past with a blend of mystery, suspense and excitement. This book will be enjoyed by a host of eager young readers.

Dr Éamon Phoenix

Historian and Broadcaster

Do you sleep with your socks on? If so, it’s a sure sign that you’re descended from King Brian Boru, the High King of Ireland. He had, as you can imagine, a very stressful, tiring job.

One morning King Brian Boru was so tired he could hardly get out of bed, so he turned to his wife and said, ‘Queenie, I’m sooooooooo tired I can hardly move.’ (He called her ‘Queenie’ because she was the High Queen of the whole of Ireland.)

‘Ye poor soul!’ said Queenie. ‘You have a wee lie in while I go downstairs and make you a big Ulster fry for yer breakfast.’

She climbed out of bed, put on her green wellington boots, went down to the kitchen, poked the fire and started to cook. She put a frying pan on a crook and crane over the fire and added a dollop of fat, twelve slices of bacon, ten pieces of soda bread, six eggs and twenty pieces of potato bread. (King Brian Boru had a good appetite, so he had!) When she’d finished she guldered (shouted), ‘BRIAN COME DOWN FOR YER BREAKFAST.’

King Brian was so excited at the thought of a big fry he let out such a big loud smelly one he nearly blew his bedclothes away!

His bedclothes weren’t like ours. In those days they had wolf skins instead of duvets or blankets. Ireland was once coming down with wolves and they were a nuisance. They gobbled up sheep and children, so it was a very good idea to make them into lovely soft cuddly rugs.

King Brian Boru was surprised to hear something talking. The voice sounded as if it was near the floor, so he looked down and his right toe said, ‘It’s a fine feisty morning, Brian!’

Brian thought, ‘I’m going crazy! Toes can’t talk!’

He felt frightened, so got back into bed and pulled the wolf skins over his head. After a few minutes he thought, ‘I’m the High King of Ireland. I shouldn’t be frightened of anything, never mind my own big feet.’

He sat up in bed and fixed his golden crown straight. He was very proud of his crown and always wore it in bed. He threw back the bedclothes and scowled at his feet.

The left toe said, ‘We’re fed up having to live on your stinking feet. We want to go home.’

King Brian Boru said, ‘My feet aren’t stinking. I’m a very clean king. I have a bath once a year.’

The right toe said, ‘Bath or no bath your feet stink. We can’t bear the stench and we want to go home.’

‘You can’t,’ said King Brian Boru, ‘I need you. Anyway you’re stuck on my feet.’

‘Ye know nothing,’ replied the right toe, ‘Ye’ve five toes on your right foot and five toes on your left foot. Five and five’s ten. That’s too many toes. You wouldn’t miss us if you let us go home. Pull us hard and we’ll come off.’

‘Go on,’ said the left toe, ‘Give it a go. Let us go home.’

King Brian Boru began to think and think and think, although he was better at fighting than thinking.

He thought, ‘If I get up and go for a piddle in the middle of the night what do I crig against the furniture? My big toe!

‘When I dance a jig with Queenie and she leaps up and down in her green wellies what does she land on? My big toe!

‘Maybe I’d be better off without my big toes?’

The toes shouted, ‘Go on Brian! Pull us off! Pull us off!’

He didn’t think anymore, he just grabbed one big toe in each hand and pulled them off. They immediately grew two little legs and a pair of arms, jumped onto the floor and shouted, ‘Thank you, Brian. Ye’re dead on!’ and dashed out of the bedroom.

Queenie let another big yell out of her. She was not polite although she was a queen!

‘BRIAN! YER EGGS ARE GETTING A SKIN ON THEM. MOVE YER BUM AND GET DOWN FOR YER BREAKFAST.’

Brian guldered, ‘COMING QUEENIE’, threw back the bedclothes, stepped out of bed and fell flat on his nose because toes are needed for balance.

I’m King Brian Boru’s wife! I’m some pup!

Queenie heard the thump and thought, ‘Brian’s dropped dead!’ and rushed up the stairs shouting, ‘Are you all right, Brian? Are you all right?’

He was sitting on the floor sobbing, ‘I can’t walk ’cos I’ve lost my toes. I won’t be able to fight ’cos I’ve lost my toes. I won’t be able to do anything ’cos I’ve lost my toes!’

‘Nonsense,’ said Queenie, who was a very sensible woman. ‘You can’t have done that! People don’t lose toes.’

‘Look!’ sobbed Brian, pointing at his feet.

‘Well! That was very careless of you. Where did they go?’

‘I don’t rightly know. They ran out the door.’

‘Well, I suppose I’d better go and find them.’ And with that Queenie rushed out the bedroom door, down the stairs, through the kitchen, across the courtyard, over the drawbridge and down the road.

She was a big fat woman. (In those days, fat was a status symbol. Most people were thin because they couldn’t afford much food. Queenie was very rich, so she had enough money to buy lots and lots of food. As a result, she was the biggest, fattest woman in the whole of Ireland!)

Being very fat has disadvantages because when you run all your fat jiggles. It was as well buses hadn’t been invented because she’d never have been able to catch one! To tell you the honest to goodness truth, she’d be running yet if the toes hadn’t stopped in the middle of the road to have a fight. They couldn’t remember which one was the right toe and which one was the left toe. They were knocking the melt out of each other.

‘I’m the right toe!’ yelled the left toe, thumping the right toe on the nose.

‘No ye’re not! I’m the right toe!’ yelled the right toe as it bashed the left toe in a very sensitive place.

‘I’m the right toe.’

‘No ye’re not!’

The fight went on and on.

Queenie stood in the middle of the road and thought, ‘If I try to pick the toes up they’ll run away. They could run into that oat