The description of her flight is marvelous but the suspense is killing me. Dot -----Original Message----- From: beara-bounces@rootsweb.com [mailto:beara-bounces@rootsweb.com] On Behalf Of Riobard O' Dwyer Sent: Saturday, September 01, 2012 6:34 AM To: beara@rootsweb.com; bearariobard@gmail.com Subject: [BEARA] STORY (Continued ---- 9) *The fog was coming in rapidly from the ocean, devouring all before it. It was like the heavy smoke of a bush fire. It advanced as a solid wall. The fishing boats far out disappear. The broad expanse of ocean seems to disappear away beneath it. One wing takes a stupendous sweep around by the left, and, in a few seconds, envelops miles of capes and bays and cliffs. The blue waters of the bay vanish. For a moment the lofty ridge of Bere Island that bars its approach stops the treacherous, all-absorbing fog. But only for a moment. It quickly pours in over the lower parts and blots out the fields and houses on the near side. It sweeps through the brown heather. It climbs every cliff. The old Martello towers that crown the hills of Bere Island float like derelict ships in this sea of fog. It surges round their fountains, it flies through their glassless windows, and in a second they are swamped. "Oh, Father in Heaven protect me !" cries the terrified girl, winging her hands in despair. The strip of water connecting the island from the mainland is gone the next instant. The silent terrible fog rolls in billows upon the white strand. It leaps the hedges. It scuds along the lowlands. It flits across the farms. It rolls up along the Coom. It breaks on the cliffs of Maulin, but is not delayed in its course. A thought flashes upon Aileen that may save her yet. "The stream, yes, yes, thank God, the stream !", and she turns and flies down into Clogher towards the mountain brook that flows into Glenmore. If she is there in time, it will save her. 'Twill guide her to the Glen in any fog ! She flies !, her flight winged with fear. Rocks, boulders, ravines, are quickly passed. The fog is at the Gap which she has just left !. It rolls up from the rear, sweeps around, encircles the mighty mountain peak of Maulin. Flood-like it rises to the summit ! Maulin vanishes ! Aileen rushes headlong towards the friendly stream. On overhead rolls the pitiless fog, shutting out the blue sky and the sun. It reaches to thr mountain tops on the other side of Clogher. Still on she flies. It creeps down the hillside after her, quickly but silently, save for themoaning of the wind through the heather. Her eyes are on the stream. "Oh God, the stream !" . The terrible pursuer (=the fog) is now only a few hundred yards behind, but still there is hope. On she flies, hoping to get to the stream before the closing-in thick fog. "Oh, Mother of Jesus, save me, save me !" With the wild prayer on her lips, the terrified girl struggles on, desperate and panting. (To be continued). Riobard. * ------------------------------- To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to BEARA-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes in the subject and the body of the message

*The fog was coming in rapidly from the ocean, devouring all before it. It was like the heavy smoke of a bush fire. It advanced as a solid wall. The fishing boats far out disappear. The broad expanse of ocean seems to disappear away beneath it. One wing takes a stupendous sweep around by the left, and, in a few seconds, envelops miles of capes and bays and cliffs. The blue waters of the bay vanish. For a moment the lofty ridge of Bere Island that bars its approach stops the treacherous, all-absorbing fog. But only for a moment. It quickly pours in over the lower parts and blots out the fields and houses on the near side. It sweeps through the brown heather. It climbs every cliff. The old Martello towers that crown the hills of Bere Island float like derelict ships in this sea of fog. It surges round their fountains, it flies through their glassless windows, and in a second they are swamped. "Oh, Father in Heaven protect me !" cries the terrified girl, winging her hands in despair. The strip of water connecting the island from the mainland is gone the next instant. The silent terrible fog rolls in billows upon the white strand. It leaps the hedges. It scuds along the lowlands. It flits across the farms. It rolls up along the Coom. It breaks on the cliffs of Maulin, but is not delayed in its course. A thought flashes upon Aileen that may save her yet. "The stream, yes, yes, thank God, the stream !", and she turns and flies down into Clogher towards the mountain brook that flows into Glenmore. If she is there in time, it will save her. 'Twill guide her to the Glen in any fog ! She flies !, her flight winged with fear. Rocks, boulders, ravines, are quickly passed. The fog is at the Gap which she has just left !. It rolls up from the rear, sweeps around, encircles the mighty mountain peak of Maulin. Flood-like it rises to the summit ! Maulin vanishes ! Aileen rushes headlong towards the friendly stream. On overhead rolls the pitiless fog, shutting out the blue sky and the sun. It reaches to thr mountain tops on the other side of Clogher. Still on she flies. It creeps down the hillside after her, quickly but silently, save for themoaning of the wind through the heather. Her eyes are on the stream. "Oh God, the stream !" . The terrible pursuer (=the fog) is now only a few hundred yards behind, but still there is hope. On she flies, hoping to get to the stream before the closing-in thick fog. "Oh, Mother of Jesus, save me, save me !" With the wild prayer on her lips, the terrified girl struggles on, desperate and panting. (To be continued). Riobard. *

*STORY (continued ---- 8). She stopped to rest at the Gap before descending into Clogher. The wild valley looked even more stern than in the morning, for the rocks on the opposite side stood out bolder as the slanting rays of the sinking sun cast their shadows far over the brown hillside. How thoughts of the old times came into her mind. "Where is now the merry party I remember long ago; Sitting by the Christmas fire Brightned by its ruddy glow". And Aileen remembered how they were scattered:- "They have all dispersed and wandered Far away, far away. They have all dispersed and wandered Far away". One or two already dead: some in Australia: many of them in America; a few still at home. She wondered would she ever see their faces again. In quiet hours thoughts like these always came into her mind. Like the beautiful white-winged ships of former days that sailed around Dursey Isle. Aileen rose to go. "Why, surely the sun can't be down yet" she exclaimed aloud as she shivered. Shading her eyes with her hand she gazed westward over the shoulder of Maulin. "No ! not yet" she continued when she observed that the sun was merely shaded by a light cloud which passed away in a moment. It couldn't be as late as that ! A sharp puff of wind caused her to turn in the direction whence it blew. She startled, and the colour left her cheeks. "Heavenly Father ! the fog ! She knew well what the fog meant. If she got into it at that late hour, she might never get out of it alive. It might hang on the hills for a week, until she was frozen, or starved to death. "What will I do at all ?" cried the poor girl, unable to move or decide through fear. (to be continued in 9) ---- Riobard. *

*STORY (continued ------ 7) On the main road she found many other country people wending their way to the fair. They were walking, riding, driving, talking, smoking, laughing. They were in horse carts and in donkey carts. There were men in leather saddles, their wives perched up behind them; and there were men on straw saddles. Some rode bareback, and many used bags for saddles. Occasionally an old woman might be seen seated on a feather tick in her "common car". Some horsemen used winkers on their steeds, and others had no bridles at all. There were boys and girls on foot. They came from all sides. They crossed the fields down from Curradhuv. They were from Adrigole. They had rowed over from Bere Island. The boys had on their Sunday clothes. The girls were dressed in bright dresses and graceful shawls. Their mothers were enveloped in blue hooded cloaks. A number had business in town; the majority had not. Old farmers lost their tempers as the cows they drove to the fair turned up every by-road. Thus they went on: dogs barking, sheep bleating, cows bellowing, pigs grunting, donkeys braying, and horses neighing*. *When Aileen arrived in town, she set about making her purchases at once. They were not many or costly, as may be imagined, Very few luxiries sufficed to make a great feast for the many people of Glenmore. Having tied up everything neatly and carefully, she remembered that it was time to take some food. She had tasted nothing since half-past seven. By the clock in the room of the eating house she saw that it was time to set out for home. The day was so far advanced that no further delay was possible. She did not know that her neighbour, Jim Leary, was at that moment searching for her in the town. Had she the goof fortune to meet him and get a lift, it would have saved her that evening a very long journey indeed. He enquired in many houses for her, but got no information until he came to the eating-house. But the old lady who kept it assured him that Aileen, whom he sought, was already some miles on her way home. When Aileen had left town there were few people on the road. The country people, though their business was mostly finished, were not in a hurry to part from old friends or to shorten the pleasures of the day. Many of them did not intend to leave before evening. Most of them were inclined to remain until nightfall. In a few minutes she passed the white-washed school house, half a mile out. In half an hour she was two miles nearer home, crossing the noisy Millcove River. Another mile through a sparse wood brought her to the place where she parted in the morning from the young fellow who glowed with such enthusiasm for dogs in general, and for the "Humphrey breed" in particular. But he was not there to meet her, and it was as wll, as he might cause delay. By the evening sun she saw that it was possible to arrive at the cliff before sunset. Her spirit rose. She looked forward with pleasure to the laugh she would have at Jack on account of his worry in letting her go on her own in the morning. It would be a good joke to slip quietly in home at nightfall and to remain concealed until he began to get uneasy. Visions of the coming "feast" on Tuesday night floated across her imagination ---- the dance, the tea, the blind fiddler, the happy faces, the good wishes of the neighbours ---- and the anticipated pleasure of dispensing hospitality in her own home, the fulfilled ambition of her girlhood years. * *(to be continued) ----- Riobard. *

Well, I'm delighted that you are enjoying the story so far, and especially all those good people who may be sick or incapacitated in hospital or at home. Those are the types of stories that I heard long ago before there were any televisions around our part of the country ---- and very few radios. And we used go to school barefooted in the summer. That's why I was sort of handy at the hop, step, and jump (or triple jump) when I grew up !! ----- Riobard.

*STORY (continued ---- part 6):- After a short rest, she commenced the descent through the coom (= a wide gorge). The path was much easier now. It was smooth, not too steep, and dry. There was one bit where she rushed by at full speed to escape the spray from a noisy streamlet which brawled down the side of Maulin. But that she enjoyed. She now found herself on a rough track which was used to remove peat (=turf) from the bogs. Not being quite sure about the road, she turned aside to enquire of a boy who was seated behind a pair of large turf baskets on a wiry little horse. "Which is the road to town that you want to know, ma'am?". "Yes, boy". "Well, ma'am, there's roads an' there's roads. There's old roads and there's new roads". "Well, which is the best and shortest, little boy ?". "Some is shortest for some people and more is shorter for other people" was the reply. "I mean, which is the quickest to go to town" said Aileen, thinking that the boy misunderstood her. "Can you climb ditches (= fences) ?" queried the juvenile. "I suppose I can, if they are not too high" she replied. "Can you jump over bog-holes, ma'am ?". "I can whenever I try and don't fall in" laughed Aileen. "Can you frighten away cross dogs when they try and bite you ?" was the next question. "I'd rather not meet with them at all, garsoon" said Aileen. "Then go the new road, ma'am. The new road is the one for people that can't jump ditches or bog-holes, or that's afraid of bad dogs. There's a power of cross dogs by the people on the ould road. The worst of 'em all is Jack Sharig's one near the Millcove School. He's an awful dog, and Power of Rodeen have a dog that they bring ketching hares every evening". "Well, I'll have to be going now, my little man" said Aileen. "Oh, I'll go with you as far as the new road, ma'am. You might go astray by yourself". And he dismounted, tied the horse, and rattled away at the dog question. After a quarter of a mile, he stopped and said: "I don't think I'll want to go any farther, the road is aisy enough now, 'twill bring you down to Bockalough. Walk on straight west and you'll go straight into town". "Very well, garsoon, I am very thankful to you for coming so far out of your way". She offered him a half-penny. "That's only for beggarmen, ma'am", he replied. "Oh, alright, will a penny do ?" asked Aileen. "Thank you, ma'am, thank you" said the little boy, clutching the penny, and warmly shaking her hand as she moved away. Before she had gone many yards, he ran up to her side. "I just came to tell you ma'am that if you have time to see Humphrey when you are in town ---- Humphrey Lynch is his name ---- he has seven dogs all his own. And they say that Humphrey's breed of dogs is the best in town". "All right, if I meet Humphrey, I'll try and see his dogs, and I'll tell you all about them when I see you again", said Aileen. With a pleasant laugh, she parted from her little companion, and resumed her journey. (To be continued in part 7). ----- Riobard. *

I'm wondering what it would take to convince Riobard to share a few stories from his own younger days. Is that something you'd consider, Riobard? I know you're great with the stories from long ago, but what about the stories from times past, but not so far past? Of course, if modesty prevents such accounts, I'll reluctantly understand. Riobard O' Dwyer <bearariobard@gmail.com> writes: > ... Those are the types of stories that I heard long ago before there > were any televisions around our part of the country ---- and very few > radios. And we used go to school barefooted in the summer. That's why I > was sort of handy at the hop, step, and jump (or triple jump) when I grew > up !! -- Bill

STORY continued ----- part 5.* When Aileen parted from her husband, she went with a light heart and a rapid step along the bank of the stream. Walking on, she hummed snatches from some of the plaintive airs that haunt those remote glens like th wail of a banshee. When the path diverged from the stream, she found that the ascent along the broken hillside was very trying. Boulders lay scattered about as if a shower of meteorites had passed over the promontory in some remote age. The path wound in and out between the numerous obstacles. One moment the panting girl found herself shut in between two lofty walls of rock, so close together that her shawl brushed past them as she passed through. Again she climbed painfully over a steep knoll. At times she almost lost her way, so frequent and perplexing were the sheep-tracks. Still she persevered and toiled bravely forward until, flushed and breathless, she attained the highest point the path reached before it began to descend on the southern side. She paused to admire the glorious panorama of land and water before her. She felt as a bird set free after a long captivity, when her eye swept the everlasting hills and rested on the cool and silvery expanse of bay that bathed the southern side of the headland, and quivered in the glare of the morning sun. "Surely 'tis beautiful here. I'll come up often with Jack in future on the fine Sundays. 'Tis a lovely place entirely". * (To be continued). *---- Riobard.*

Such suspense. Can't wait for the next chapter. Dot in Pa. -----Original Message----- From: beara-bounces@rootsweb.com [mailto:beara-bounces@rootsweb.com] On Behalf Of Riobard O' Dwyer Sent: Wednesday, August 29, 2012 2:05 PM To: bearariobard@gmail.com; beara@rootsweb.com Subject: Re: [BEARA] The Story (Continued: 2) On 29 August 2012 12:05, Riobard O' Dwyer <bearariobard@gmail.com> wrote: > *"Jack, I think I'll go to Castletown (=Castletownbere) today. 'Tis > three months since I was there --- the day I got the lift in Jim Twomey's cart. > I'd like to ask a few friends in here next Tuesday night. You know, > 'twas this day last year we got married. We ought to do something to > show them see we don't forget the good feeling they showed us then. > And you know that the people are very kind to me since I came here". > "And why wouldn't they, Aileen. But what do you want in town for ?". > "Well, when we have the neighbours here, 'twon't do to send them away > fasting. I want to get something nice in town for them". "Oh, of > course, Aileen. But how will you get in there ? There's no one that I > know of going today, so you can't expect a lift. But wait 'till the > day after tomorrow, Monday; some one may be for the road that day. > Indeed, I wish that we had a horse of our own, and not to be depending > on our neighbours that way. Anyhow, I'll get one soon, before the end of the year, I hope". "Monday would be too late, Jack. > And, besides, there's a fair in Castletown today, and some people from > my own Parish will be there, and I'd like to meet them". "But there is > no way of going". "Can't I walk it ?". "What !! ---- walk all that distance !!". > "I'll not be going around by the road. I'll follow the path over the > hill, and 'tis only five or six miles that way ", said Aileen. "Six > miles over the hill !! The ground is too rough", said Jack. Anyhow, > how can you find your way that way* ? *You've never before travelled > up over the hill before". "Sure, didn't Peg Shea walk it that way" > said Aileen, "and she nearly eighty years old ---- and me only twenty. > Jack, you haven't a geat faith in your wife if you think she isn't a > match for an old woman of four score on the hills ?". "But how can you find your way ?" answered Jack. " > If you go astray, you might be out all night on the mountain. Well, > seeing that you are bent on going, it's no use arguing with you, I > suppose. Then, you'd better start at once. The day is short, and the > morning is wearing on. It must be nearly half-past eight". "I'll have > no delay, only to get my shawl, and then I'm off" said Aileen entering > their small cottage ---- because that conversation was carried on in > the open field*. *"Now, Jack, I'm ready". "Hold on a minute" said > Jack. "I'l go up as far as Clogher with you" --- and away they went.* > (To be continued). *------ Riobard.* > > > > -- *Riobard (O'Dwyer)* ------------------------------- To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to BEARA-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes in the subject and the body of the message

On 29 August 2012 20:22, Riobard O' Dwyer <bearariobard@gmail.com> wrote: > *When Jack was near home, a neighbour, driving a horse and cart at a > swift trot, overtook him. "You look like a man for a long road this > morning, Jim, by the way you are travelling", said Jack, after shaking the > hand that his friend held out. "So I am, Jack --- pretty far. I am for > town, and I ought be half-way there now, if I started in time", replied the > other. "Going to town !! Pity I didn't know that this morning --- nothing > would please her but to go across the hill. We didn't know there was any > horse and cart going in today". said Jack. "Well now Jack, did anyone ever > hear the likes ? Sure I'd be glad to give Aileen a lift, and a welcome with > it, and 'twould be only a very small turn for a good neighbour. Why didn't > you send me word that she would be going ?". "She never got the notion > until after her breakfast, and I wanted to persuade her to put it off until > someone would be driving there. She wouldn't wait one hour", said Jack. > "Then there must be some mighty important business on, Jack --- if that's a > fair question" ---- suggested Jim. "Fair enough, Jim" said Jack. "We will > be married a year on Tuesday She wants to have the neighbours in for the > evening, so she went to town to buy some things. You'll be able to come > over that evening, won't you. Jim ?". "Faith I will, and 'tis proud I am to > be asked", said Jim. "And herself (=Jim's wife)* *will come with you" > continued his neighbour as Jim gathered up the reins*. *"Thank you Jack. > She will to be sure. But I must hurry on now, and I might be in town before > your good woman starts for home. If I see her, I'll get her to come back > with me in the horse and cart". "May God spare you, Jim. You'll be there as > soon as her. She was going fast the last I saw of her ---- but she'll not > keep that up, not being used to it. Make haste now like a good man, and be > shortening the road". "That's luck, now", said Jack to himself as Jim drove > off. "'Twill save me the journey up to Clogher this evening. I might as > well go now, as the day is broke (=broken), and 'tis too late to do any > work. I might go around and ask the friends in for Tuesday night". > They all promised, of coursa. Before midday 'twas talked of in every home > in the glen, and they all looked forward to the enjoyable evening before > them. > (To be continued). ------ Riobard. > * > > > > > -- *Riobard (O'Dwyer)*

*STORY ------ *(Continued ---- 3) [This is the part which disappeared with the fairies !!] *The home of Aileen and Jack was situated in a wild but beautiful glen { =Glenmore}. A deep lake extended half its length. Mountains two thousand feet high, almost perpendicular, sheltered it. The green spots along the lake's shore are the little farms of the residents, among them Jack's which was conspicuous for its general neatness. Rows of furze and trailing briars fence off the fields. Four or five miles away in a northerly direction is Kenmare Bay. The glen extends westwards. The broad Bay of Bantry lies along its southern shore, and half the navies of Europe might ride in safety on its waters opposite Castletown(bere) ------ Aileen's destination that day. Over a desolate upland led a mountain path by which she proposed to travel ---- so lonely that sportsmen may walk over it from dawn to dusk without seeing a human face or hearing a sound other than the bleating of wild sheep. The young couple walked quickly along the road that terminated at the foot of a very high cliff. A narrow path led up to the higher valley of Clogher. As they ascended, the mountain stream dashed down cold and clear. Aileen and Jack had to exercise great care as they advanced, for in many places the rocks were slippery with wet moss. But the travellers were young and in good health and spirits. From ledge to ledge they leaped with the agility of deer wherever the footing was secure. One moment they clung close to the face of the cliff, and Aileen held her breath as she gazed hundreds of feet into the sombre depths of Glenmore. Again they trod careful;y on the quartz pebbles from which the clay had been long since loosened and washed away. After toiling upwards for a considerable time, they emerged on the level plateau, or rather valley of Clogher. The mountain stream that broke over the precipice beside them could be traced through all its windings almost to its source in the Mountain of Maulin, which loomed high at the other end of Clogher. To the right and to the left the hills sloped from the channel of the stream. A savage, uncultivated valley, almost unapproachable from every side; vast boulders strewn around, piled up, rolled together, as if by some awful convulsion of nature. The surrounding glens and lowlands have been inhabited and cultivated for untold ages. Clogher is as wild today as it was when the keel of the first voyagers grated on the sands of Ireland's shore. For some minutes Aileen and Jack stood surveying the desolate scene in silence. Jack did not like the idea of letting her go alone. But the happy girl laughed and laughed again, and the scared sheep bounded away out of sight along the rocky slopes. "All right, Aileen, all right", said Jack. "You'll have your own way, I see. You'll have your own way. So there's no use in delaying you. Don't lose any time in town, alannah. You'll want to be back to this spot before the sun goes down, to keep out any risk". "Never fear, Jack" said Aileen. "I'll not delay when my business is done". And she set along the valley at a rapid walk. Jack looked after her as she treaded her way along the rushy banks of the mountain stream ----- her scarlet shawl waving in the breeze. His eyes followed her retreating figure through every winding of the path. "May God guard you safe and sound, my darling", said Jack as he turned to descend into Glenmore. Soon his keen eyes detected a little red fluttering speck far up ---- but then it disappeared. (To be continued; ---- put this part in before 4). ----- Riobard. *

*When Jack was near home, a neighbour, driving a horse and cart at a swift trot, overtook him. "You look like a man for a long road this morning, Jim, by the way you are travelling", said Jack, after shaking the hand that his friend held out. "So I am, Jack --- pretty far. I am for town, and I ought be half-way there now, if I started in time", replied the other. "Going to town !! Pity I didn't know that this morning --- nothing would please her but to go across the hill. We didn't know there was any horse and cart going in today". said Jack. "Well now Jack, did anyone ever hear the likes ? Sure I'd be glad to give Aileen a lift, and a welcome with it, and 'twould be only a very small turn for a good neighbour. Why didn't you send me word that she would be going ?". "She never got the notion until after her breakfast, and I wanted to persuade her to put it off until someone would be driving there. She wouldn't wait one hour", said Jack. "Then there must be some mighty important business on, Jack --- if that's a fair question" ---- suggested Jim. "Fair enough, Jim" said Jack. "We will be married a year on Tuesday She wants to have the neighbours in for the evening, so she went to town to buy some things. You'll be able to come over that evening, won't you. Jim ?". "Faith I will, and 'tis proud I am to be asked", said Jim. "And herself (=Jim's wife)* *will come with you" continued his neighbour as Jim gathered up the reins*. *"Thank you Jack. She will to be sure. But I must hurry on now, and I might be in town before your good woman starts for home. If I see her, I'll get her to come back with me in the horse and cart". "May God spare you, Jim. You'll be there as soon as her. She was going fast the last I saw of her ---- but she'll not keep that up, not being used to it. Make haste now like a good man, and be shortening the road". "That's luck, now", said Jack to himself as Jim drove off. "'Twill save me the journey up to Clogher this evening. I might as well go now, as the day is broke (=broken), and 'tis too late to do any work. I might go around and ask the friends in for Tuesday night". They all promised, of coursa. Before midday 'twas talked of in every home in the glen, and they all looked forward to the enjoyable evening before them. (To be continued). ------ Riobard. *

On 29 August 2012 12:05, Riobard O' Dwyer <bearariobard@gmail.com> wrote: > *"Jack, I think I'll go to Castletown (=Castletownbere) today. 'Tis three > months since I was there --- the day I got the lift in Jim Twomey's cart. > I'd like to ask a few friends in here next Tuesday night. You know, 'twas > this day last year we got married. We ought to do something to show them > see we don't forget the good feeling they showed us then. And you know that > the people are very kind to me since I came here". "And why wouldn't they, > Aileen. But what do you want in town for ?". "Well, when we have the > neighbours here, 'twon't do to send them away fasting. I want to get > something nice in town for them". "Oh, of course, Aileen. But how will you > get in there ? There's no one that I know of going today, so you can't > expect a lift. But wait 'till the day after tomorrow, Monday; some one may > be for the road that day. Indeed, I wish that we had a horse of our own, > and not to be depending on our neighbours that way. Anyhow, I'll get one > soon, before the end of the year, I hope". "Monday would be too late, Jack. > And, besides, there's a fair in Castletown today, and some people from my > own Parish will be there, and I'd like to meet them". "But there is no way > of going". "Can't I walk it ?". "What !! ---- walk all that distance !!". > "I'll not be going around by the road. I'll follow the path over the hill, > and 'tis only five or six miles that way ", said Aileen. "Six miles over > the hill !! The ground is too rough", said Jack. Anyhow, how can you find > your way that way* ? *You've never before travelled up over the hill > before". "Sure, didn't Peg Shea walk it that way" said Aileen, "and she > nearly eighty years old ---- and me only twenty. Jack, you haven't a geat > faith in your wife if you think she isn't a match for an old woman of four > score on the hills ?". "But how can you find your way ?" answered Jack. " > If you go astray, you might be out all night on the mountain. Well, seeing > that you are bent on going, it's no use arguing with you, I suppose. Then, > you'd better start at once. The day is short, and the morning is wearing > on. It must be nearly half-past eight". "I'll have no delay, only to get my > shawl, and then I'm off" said Aileen entering their small cottage ---- > because that conversation was carried on in the open field*. *"Now, Jack, > I'm ready". "Hold on a minute" said Jack. "I'l go up as far as Clogher with > you" --- and away they went.* > (To be continued). *------ Riobard.* > > > > -- *Riobard (O'Dwyer)*

I missed part 3? Sue

For those on the list who may be interested. *Search all U.S. Censuses free* >From August 29th through September 3rd, Ancestry.com is opening all of its U.S. census records – FREE. Go to www.ancestry.com/census<http://sm.ancestry.com:80/track?type=click&enid=ZWFzPTEmbWFpbGluZ2lkPTExNTA5Jm1lc3NhZ2VpZD01OTAxJmRhdGFiYXNlaWQ9NjQwMiZzZXJpYWw9MTY3NzkwMDkmZW1haWxpZD1jc2F1bmRlcnM2NUBnbWFpbC5jb20mdXNlcmlkPUFwcmltb18yOTE4NTQ2M19FMTcwRTQ5RC03MjQxLTQ2MDQtOTExQy1BNUJDRjQwREQ1RTkmdGFyZ2V0aWQ9JmZsPSZleHRyYT1NdWx0aXZhcmlhdGVJZD0mJiY=&&&2001&&&http://www.ancestry.com/s52272/t26464/rd.ashx>to learn more and start searching. Mike

Dearest Bill, My heart and prayers go with you and yours! There is no consoling the loss of a loved one, but remember when God looks at his garden he only picks the best flowers to take to heaven! But leaves another to keep beauty here! Grace is the balance. My best wishes and prayers! Terry Barnes -----Original Message----- From: Bill Gawne Sent: Sunday, August 26, 2012 3:47 AM To: beara@rootsweb.com Subject: Re: [BEARA] my family's loss Dear friends of Beara, Yes, it's true. I suppose one doesn't tell a poet a story and not expect the story to be retold. So events unfolded in the manner Donal related, and my darling firstborn is now a young widow. It's a story her ancestors from Beara knew all too well. Fortunately it's far less common today, but young people in the prime of life are still sometimes cut down, leaving their loved ones to get on as best they may. I'll thank you in advance for whatever condolences you wish to offer. -- Bill ------------------------------- To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to BEARA-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes in the subject and the body of the message

*This beatiful, but eventually sad story was told by Rev. D.K. Harrington 67 years ago and was called "The Bride of Glenmore". Glenmore is a lovely glen with a sparkling lake, and surrounded by hills, just over the Beara border in Co. Kerry. They were married almost a year. He was as kind still as on that happy day twelve months ago when she passed from the altar to his home amidst the congratulations of friends. Probably he had never heard the word chivalry in his life, but he loved and honoured her as well and truly as any knight in the olden time. And if her opinion of him were known ---- Why there was not a husband in all Cork and Kerry like Jack. Who worked harder ? Who was so steady ? So easy to please? Who danced so gracefully ? "Tis I am the lucky fellow surely" Jack would say to his confidential friends "to meet with such a good girl as Aileen before I picked up with anyone else. There isn't the likes of her in the whole countryside. She has no more bad temper than the lambs in the field abroad, and the way she is singing about the house, why, you'd think 'twas a skylark we had in the place. Surely if God ever put angels in the world, she's one of them". Such was their mutual relations at the end of their first year of wedded life. ----- to be continued. Riobard. *

I've been away from the list for a while, and came back to such sad tales. My warmest thoughts to you, Donal. I am in awe of your bravery. I'm so sorry for your family's tragedy, Bill. What a terrible shock that must be. Sending my sympathy from the hills of Virginia-- Jane Harrington

Dear Bill, my sincere condolences to your daughter, yourself and all the family. My thoughts and prayers are with you all at this sad time. Judith

Dear friends of Beara : in response to Maureen's em, I am afraid that there has been a very understandable confusion and association between what happened in regard to Bill's son-in-law and my own medical condition. I have already clarified this to Maureen in a private em. In regard to myself I am happy to assure you all, in the words of Mark Twain in a similar situation that " the rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated" ! In fact all things considered, for the present I am in reasonably good shape but in week 46 of the great 'count down' to exit ! I have returned to my childhood home area to live out the remainder of my life and since I apparently have some significance as a cultural person and poet, one of the county newspapers "The Corkman' gave me a double page interview and photo spread to welcome me back. Unfortunately the on line digital version of the paper is 'pay per download' , but for any of you that may be interested with ' two bucks ' to spare a single edition download is possible and here here is the reference. http://corkman.newspaperdirect.com/epaper/viewer.aspx Slan is beannacht, Donal O' On Mon, Aug 27, 2012 at 11:43 AM, pat oleary <poleary42@yahoo.com> wrote: > Bill, > So sorry to hear of the loss in your family. Will keep you and your family > in my thoughts and prayers. > Pat O'Leary > > --- On Mon, 8/27/12, Judith Casey <judith@judithcasey.plus.com> wrote: > > > From: Judith Casey <judith@judithcasey.plus.com> > Subject: Re: [BEARA] my family's loss > To: beara@rootsweb.com > Date: Monday, August 27, 2012, 5:41 AM > > > On 26/08/2012 16:14, ebsems3940@comcast.net wrote: > > Bill, my deepect sympathy to you and your family. I will remember all of > you in my prayers. God bless all of you in this very difficult time. > > > > ----- Original Message ----- > > From: "Bill Gawne" <gawne@cesmail.net> > > To: beara@rootsweb.com > > Sent: Sunday, August 26, 2012 3:47:12 AM > > Subject: Re: [BEARA] my family's loss > > > > Dear friends of Beara, > > > > Yes, it's true. I suppose one doesn't tell a poet a story and not > > expect the story to be retold. So events unfolded in the manner Donal > > related, and my darling firstborn is now a young widow. > > > > It's a story her ancestors from Beara knew all too well. Fortunately > > it's far less common today, but young people in the prime of life are > > still sometimes cut down, leaving their loved ones to get on as best > > they may. > > > > I'll thank you in advance for whatever condolences you wish to offer. > > > > > > -- Bill > > > > ------------------------------- > > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > BEARA-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes > in the subject and the body of the message > > > > ------------------------------- > > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > BEARA-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes > in the subject and the body of the message > Dear Bill, > my condolences and sincere sympathies are with you all at this very sad > time. > Judith. > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > BEARA-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes > in the subject and the body of the message > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > BEARA-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes > in the subject and the body of the message >