Today, St. Stephen's Day, Dec. 26th, is what we call in Ireland: "The day of the Wren", or "Wren's Day", or as the old people used say: "The Day of the Wran". I was only after coming out of the Teachers' Training College/Qualifying to become a Teacher. There was a local/Ardgroom (Beara) football team, and we were looking for funds; so we decided to "Go in the Wran". There were 13 of us, all dressed up in various types of "contrary" costumes. I was leading the "music" Band with my accordion. Behind me was my younger brother Sean beating the drum. A big, tall Policeman, Tadhg/Tim Harrington (Uonhi) (now R.I.P) was carrying a long pole, with a pig's bladder attached to it; 6 feet 3 inches John (Uxside) Harrington (now also R.I.P.) carried a pike, like those used in the Insurrection of 1798; Tadhg's brother Jerome had a big bag for gathering the money; and we had our army of soldiers marching behind, singing for all they were worth. After "gathering some money/coins, we headed about a mile "east" the road, close to the Kerry border. Living in a particular house was a bachelor. Again, singing loudly: "Danny Mike Tade is a dacent (decent) man -- and to his house we brought this "Wran"; "Up with the kettle and down with the pot, and give us an answer, and lave (leave) us be off". We knocked on the door --- no answer. We knocked again --- no answer. We knew that Danny Mike Tade was inside the door, but he didn't want to give us any money. When we got no further answer from Danny, who was not known for his generosity, Tadhg hit the door with a wallop of the pig's bladder. Out came Danny. "Who struck the door ?" says he. There was a dead silence from our "army". "Who struck the door ?" again asked Danny. Once more --- silence from our men. "Spake (speak) up", says Danny. "The mouths was (were) big enough aby (by) ye awhile ago". We decided, there and then, that we weren't going to get any donation from this "Minister for Finance", so we headed over to Eyeries Village, about 4 and a half miles away. 'Twas night-time by then. The first house we came to was Joe (Quin) Murphy's Pub --- Joan's father's house. Joe happened to be filling a few pints of Guinness for his neighbours. We started off singing at the top of our voices: "Kelly, the boy from Killanne", "The boys of Wexford), and "Nell Flaherty's drake". Out the door came Joe. "Shut up", says he, "ye pack of fools. There's a corpse in a coffin across the road in the Church !!" So, having respect for the dead, who might finish up by haunting us, we decided to call it a day. And, so ended our football team's "Wran". Riobard.