THE BANSHEE Green, in the wizard arms Of the foam-bearded Atlantic, An isle of old enchantment, A melancholy isle, Enchanted and dreaming lies; And there, by Shannon's flowing, In the moonlight, spectre-thin, The spectre Erin sits. An aged desolation, She sits by old Shannon's flowing, A mother of many children, Of children exiled and dead, In her home, with bent head, homeless, Clasping her knees she sits, Keening, keening! And at her keen the fairy-grass Trembles on dun and barrow; Around the foot of her ancient crosses The grave-grass shakes and the nettle swings; In haunted glens the meadow-sweet Flings to the night wind Her mystic mournful perfume; The sad spearmint by holy wells Breathes melancholy balm. Sometimes she lifts her head, With blue eyes tearless, And gazes athwart the reek of night Upon things long past, Upon things to come. And sometimes, when the moon Brings tempest upon the deep, And roused Atlantic thunders from his caverns in the west, The wolfhound at her feet Springs up with a mighty bay, And chords of mystery sound from the wild harp at her side, Strung from the heart of poets; And she flies on the wings of tempest With grey hair streaming: A meteor of evil omen, The spectre of hope forlorn, Keening, keening! She keens, and the strings of her wild harp shiver On the gusts of night: O'er the four waters she keens -- over Moyle she keens, O'er the Sea of Milith, and the Strait of Strongbow, And the Ocean of Columbus. And the Fianna hear, and the ghosts of her cloudy hovering heroes; And the swan, Fianoula, wails o'er the waters of Inisfail, Chanting her song of destiny, The rune of the weaving Fates. And the nations hear in the void and quaking time of night, Sad unto dawning, dirges, Solemn dirges, And snatches of bardic song; Their souls quake in the void and quaking time of night, And they dream of the weird of kings, And tyrannies moulting, sick In the dreadful wind of change. Wail no more, lonely one, mother of exiles, wail no more, Banshee of the world -- no more! Thy sorrows are the world's, thou art no more alone; Thy wrongs, the world's. -- John Todhunter

THE STONE OUTSIDE DAN MURPHY'S DOOR There's a sweet garden spot in our mem'ry, It's the place we were born and reared; 'Tis long years ago since we left it, But return there we will if we're spared. Our friends and companions of childhood Would assemble each night near a score, 'Round Dan Murphy's shop and how often we've sat On the stone that stood outside his door! Those days in our hearts we will cherish, Contented, although we were poor, And the songs that were sung on the days we were young, On the stone outside Dan Murphy's door! When our day's work was over we'd meet there In the winter or spring the same. The boys and the girls all together, Then would join in some innocent game, Dan Murphy would bring down his fiddle, While his daughter looked after the store, The music did ring and sweet songs we would sing On the stone outside Dan Murphy's door! Back again will our thoughts often wander, To the scenes of our childhood's home, The friends and companions we left there It was poverty caused us to roam. Since then in this life we have prospered, But now still in our hearts we feel sore For mem'ory will fly to the days now gone by, And the stone outside Dan Murphy's door! -- Composer, John Francis Patterson, born Kilbarron, outside Feakle Village, Clare, 1840, father from N. Ireland. On death of parents, children went to live with other families.. Johnny went to live with uncle, Mark Patterson, old Mill Road, Ennis, played drums and piccolo in Army as a boy, toured with circuses as "The Irish Singing Clown." Married, was father. Performed in America circa 1876-1885 as a popular and highly-paid entertainer, "The Rambler from Clare." Composed several songs. Returned to Ireland, struck by iron-bar in row at a performance because he displayed both Irish and British flags. Fatally wounded, he died 1889, Tralee Fever Hospital.

SNIPPET: In the Sept-Oct 2001 issue of Dublin-published "Ireland of the Welcomes," readers had comments about Ireland as well as particular IOTW magazine articles they have enjoyed: Shirley McGLYNN, Lavender Bay, Australia, shared: "I have been subscribing for a number of years and enjoy re-reading the issues, particularly when mention is made of my ancestral area on the Shannon and Clondra, Co. Longford. I have visited Ireland eight times, the first time youth hostelling in the south and north in 1954 - a rather different Ireland then. One article in particular struck a chord with me - 'Memories of the Shannon,' by Patrick J. POWER, Sept-Oct 2000" -- 'Whenever I return to Tarmonbarry, cross the hump-back bridge in Clondra, drive down the hill past what used to be CLYNES' mill ... and see the Shannon below me.' My family lived in Richmond House and worked the Richmond Mill from 1831 until it was sold to Joseph CLYNE in 1928. Bernadette CLYNE supplied photos for my family story: 'A Family on the Shannon: the FLEMINGS of Richmond Harbour, County Longford, Ireland,' published in 1994. Jane LAMB, Brunswick, ME, wrote: "For more than 20 years, I have been enjoying your beautiful magazine and it never fails to delight me. I always find some connection, small or great, with my Irish roots. One of the most exciting articles was several years about about SYNGE's cottage and its restoration, which led to my corresponding with Treasa Ni FHATHARTA. I wanted to find some clue to my great-grandfather's origins -- A DERRANE, he was supposedly born in Inishmaan. The greatest number of connections in one issue, however, came with the May/June 2001 issue. The article on Cork City struck me because I visited Dr. Seamus DURAN of UCC there last year. I got acquainted with him through a footnote in Tim ROBINSON's 'Stone of Aran. In pursuit of common ancestors.' From the article 'Road Bowling in Cork' by Sophie GORMAN, I was pleased to discover, this was not just an ancient sport described with great humour in the Irish RM, one of my favourite reads. Imagine how surprised I was to learn that one of my friends goes road bowling with Irish pals right here in Maine! Then I turned to the story about Sherkin Island Marine Station, where another dear friend spent seven romantic years before returning here to spin marvellous yarns about the place. 'Music in the Mountains' by Alf McCREARY spoke to me of my nephew. A follower of Rudoph STEINER, he teaches people with special needs in a Waldorf School in Sydney, Australia. Although he has not said so, it must be surely part of the Camphill Movement. Finding a photo of the inimitable David NORRIS, dancing for Joy-ce capped the climax. I had the privilege and fun of studying with David at Trinity 25 years ago! I've been to Ireland several times since then and plan to take my grand-daughter to the Kerrygold Horse Show and the Connemara Pony Show this year. She is also keen to visit Middle Earth Country featured in the Jan/Feb 2001 issue. Thank you again for a wonderful publication and its breathtaking photos." Glen and La Dona BALINGER, Cornersville, TN, wrote: "Have you ever been homesick for a place you had never been before? That is exactly how my wife and I had felt before realising that we must come to Ireland. My own mother who is now 90 years old, had told me how her grandfather had told her about Ireland, and that he spoke with such a heavy brogue, that as children she and her brothers and sisters could barely understand him. He must have migrated to America during the mid-1800s, settling in middle TN. These old stories, and a strange drawing sensation finally brought us to your enchanted island last year. Aer Lingus brought us safely from Boston to Shannon and from the first moment we were captivated by the spell of the countryside, the people, the pubs, and the shops, all were more than we had imagined. We took a self-drive holiday, so we were able to travel at our own pace and stayed at B&Bs to meet more people on a personal level. The overall experience was remarkable. Everyone was so friendly and helpful. However, we did not get to spend as much time as we wanted to at any one place, as there was so much to see and we had to travel on. We did travel from Kerry to Cork to Wicklow so as to get "a bit of a feel" of the country. When we had to fly home no one was ready, and I must admit more than a few tears were shed at Dublin airport. Our source of hope at that time was the comfort in knowing that we would soon be returning..."

SNIPPET: The July-Aug 2004 issue of Dublin's "Ireland of the Welcomes" magazine has an interesting several-page article with text and colorful illustrations by Dan BARRETT, a retired postman/freelance writer living in Co. Tipperary. And a good resource for researchers is the Rathkeale, Co. Limerick Irish Palatine Heritage Centre. Some of the surnames associated with the Irish Palatine experience: SHIER, HECK, RUTTLE, JACOB, SPARLING, LAURENCE, BOWEN, STEEPE, COOKE, BARKMAN, CRONSBERRY, TESKEY, YOUNG, MILLER, BAKER, REYNARD, COLE, LOWE, BOVENIZER, LEGEAR, BENNER, ALTON, STARK, GILLIARD, MEE, PIPER, ST. JOHN and SWITZER. It was a SWITZER, from neighbouring Co. Tipperary that founded the famous Dublin fashion house of the same name. You might want to read a recent work, "People make Places," by Dr. Patrick J. O'CONNOR, which deals comprehensively with all aspects of the Irish Palatine odyssey. Photographs in the IOTW magazine include: (1) Typical dress worn by Palatines in the 18th century, costumes presented to the IPA at a gathering of Irish Palatines from around the world recently held in Germany. (2) The Irish Palatine Heritage Centre, Rathkeale, Co. Limerick. (3) Embury and Heck Memorial Methodist Church at Ballingrane built by the Irish Palatines in 1766; renovated in 1885, still used by members of the Methodist community in Co. Limerick. Its name commemorates those who brought Methodism to America - Philip EMBRY, a Rathkeale Palatine created Methodist preacher and cousin Barbara HECK, who sailed for America in 1760 where they established a Methodist community. (4) Castle Matrix, built as a Desmond stronghold in the middle of the 15th century, it became the home of the SOUTHWELL family in the early 1600s and was converted into a manor house. (5) Holy Trinity Church of Ireland in Rathkeale, where many Palatine names are recorded on the gravestones. Clever drawings by the author include Palatines arriving in Ireland and superior farming techniques which the Palatines bought to Ireland. Read more about the early Palatines departure to the New World, and during the Spring of 1709 about 11,000 people comprising several different families arriving in London from Rotterdam, the second leg of their proposed journey to America. Learn more about misfortunate Palatines essentially being stranded there, the camp settlements in London, solutions to the "indigent crisis," Irish landlord classes asked to encourage people onto their estates to bolster Protestant presence and because they were skilled agriculturists ..... Palatines arrived in Ireland in the early days of September 1709. Although subsequently experiencing poor treatment in Dublin,as had been the case in London, some settlers left for England again circa 1711. . During the years following their arrival in Ireland, the Palatines who for the most part were Lutheran and Protestant by persuasion, slowly became lukewarm in regards to religious practice, possibly due to lack of preachers and religious direction. As time progressed they enthusiastically embraced Methodism. Eventually -- "The county of Limerick, and to a lesser extent, the counties of Wexford and Carlow would become the major centres of a Palatine presence. In Limerick, Sir Thomas SOUTHWELL, with vast estates around Rathkeale took in innumerable displaced German families and settled them on his lands. Unlike nearly all of the other landlords who had taken in immigrant families only to lose them again within a very short time, SOUTHWELL .... treated his settlers with equanimity. With the British government stalling as regards funding, he wasn't afraid to use his own resources when it came to solidifying a Palatine existence. He assigned each family approximately eight acres of land, and at rents much lower than those demanded of local tenants ... When it came the planting and harvesting of potatoes the Palatines were ahead of their time, as they were the first agriculturists to use the horse and plough in the process, leaving the native Irish entirely dependent on the spade and shovel. The Palatines were also highly skilled in apple culture and were expert cider producers ...During the harsh famine days, the Palatines, due to their superior skill, methods in working the land and raising livestock, escaped the worst ravages of the great hunger and were known to help their less well off neighbours." Read about the eventual dispersal of several families away from Rathkeale circa 1730-40s and on to other landlord estates in Co. Limerick and to a lesser degree, Kerry and Tipperary, and emigration to the New World, etc., after SOUTHWELL's death. Learn more about changes in culture the 19th century brought with it - lessening of enmities existing between German and Gael, acquistion of English and other languages, lessening of the earlier more or less taboo against intermarriage. Per article -- "P. W. JOYCE, the famous historian and collector of Irish music and song was actually brought up in the Palatine village of Glenosheen in South Limerick, and anything he had to say of his German neighbours was always positive."

SNIPPET: Mount Stewart Gardens in County Down are renowned for their great beauty, variety, superb layout and unrivalled collection of rare and exotic plants. They are a tribute not only to their original creators but to the present gardening staff. The Gardens have an interesting history. While the smoke and battle of the Great War seems a far cry from peaceful subtropical gardens, yet those at Mount Stewart owe their existence to the work of men who endured the trauma of trench warfare and to a remarkable society hostess whose skill and imagination places her in the front rank of landscape gardeners. By 1915 Londonderry House in London had been turned into a convalescent hospital for soldiers, which Edith, Lady Londonderry (nee CHAPLIN) supervised. As well, it remained headquarters for the Ark Club, whose members each adopted the name of a creature, real or mythical. At the end of the war, the Londonderrys made the 18th century Mount Stewart House on the Ards Peninsula their main home. Edith, who had developed a a great interest in gardening, quickly realised the potential of the run-down estate, and prepared a plan for a grand garden design, recruiting 20 ex-soldiers for its execution. Now, many years after the completion of the gardens, the joy of men who swapped the din and destruction of the battlefield for the peace of orderly creation is evident. The stonework, statuary and buildings are as fine as any in the British Isles, and the opiary and preserved layout of the humid micro-climate promotes luxuriant growth and allows many greenhouse plants to be grown in the open. One of Edith's gardening mentors was Sir John ROSS of Bladensburg with gardens in Rostrevor, Co. Down, who told her -- 'My dear Lady Londonderry, I can grow plants here the Kew (Gardens) has never heard of." In addition to the plants and seeds collected by Lady Londonderry from every continent, she was given rare specimens by other plant enthusiasts. While seeking the advice of celebrated landscape gardeners such as Gertrude JEKYLL, the gardens primarily bear witness to the innate genius of a woman who had no formal training in horticulture or landscaping. Mount Stewart has had many important visitors, including the Duke and Duchess of York (later to become King George VI and Queen Elizbeth) who stayed there shortly after their marriage. Among the gardens are fantastic stone animals playfully 'depicting' distinguished members of the Ark Club as well as a gargoyle reminiscent of Sir Winston CHURCHILL. Some background -- Edith, Lady LONDONDERRY (nee CHAPLIN) was the granddaughter of the Duke of Sutherland, Britain's largest landowner. She was brought up in Dunrobin Castle in Scotland. In 1899, at age 20, she married Viscount Castlereagh, a descendant of the Foreign Secretary who held the British delegation at the Congress of Vienna when a peace settlement for Europe was mapped out, following the fall of Napoleon. Edith's husband was heir to Lord Londonderry, and, when he succeeded to the title in 1915, he became the owner of Londonderry House in London's Park Lane and of Mount Stewart on the Ards Peninsula. The vast London residence was a mecca for the rich and powerful as well as for writers, artists and musicians, especially between the wars when up to 2,500 guests attended eve of State Opening of Parliament receptions. In 1915, Edith hosted Wednesday evening dinner parties for those who were engaged in war work and so the Ark Club was born. She founded the Women's Legion, which carried out vital work during the First World War, and, in 1916, Edith became the first woman to be awarded the Military DBE. Her husband served in France during WWI. Edith LONDONDERRY, who died at the age of 80, was a fighter for women's rights and, helped by the demands of war and her skill with the pen - she could apparently pilot a plane, as well -demonstrated that women were perfectly capable of carrying out work that had formerly been the preserve of men. -- Excerpts, Leslie GILMORE's article (w/photos) in the Nov-Dec 2001 issue of Dublin's "Ireland of the Welcomes" magazine.

MELVIN WATERS BLUE Farewell to Melvin's tranquil shore Where often I have strayed, In pensive thought o'er brae and brake Or sauntered in the shade; And strove my best in joyous mood To catch the trout and eel, I know when far in distant lands How lonely I will feel. No more I'll tread the verdant path No more I'll see or hear The thrush in groves beyond the lake Pour forth its notes so clear, And fondly gaze on each dear scene, The scenes that well I knew For I must say farewell to all Round Melvin Waters blue. How pleasant on a Summer day On Carraig Raghallaigh fair To sit and chat of days gone by And breathe the pleasant air. Or view the housetops of Kinlough Shine out among the trees St. Aidan's spire to crown the scene Defiant of the breeze; Or view Bundoran far below - The Brighton of the North - Where strangers go to breathe the air Where zephyrs fan the healthful strand So pleasing to the view; Home scenes so dear I will revere And Melvins waters blue. >From point of Ross to Inniskeen The scenes of joyous days, Where youth and health were seen to sport In Summer sun's bright rays. The people here round Melvin dear So little seek to know The grief an exile's heart must feel When forced from it to go. >From Rosclogher's ruined castle To Mount Prospect's fair demesne >From Dartry hills with verdure crowned To every smiling plain; >From Glenade's mist-clad mountains To all I ever knew I now must say farewell to all Round Melvin waters blue. How lovely on a sunny day To walk Rossinver braes, And view the scenes that lie beneath So well deserving praise. And view Fermanagh's noble hills That were in days of yore The home of many a manly heart When tyrants trod our shore. But now there's scarce an infant left Of all to tell the tale They joined the Irish exile band Far, far from Inishfail; They went across the ocean wave Strange pathways to pursue They left their native plains behind Round Melvin waters blue. Go sailing down by Laureen House, You'll catch a sweet perfume Of many a fresh and fragrant flower Well kept, and rich in bloom. While, standing on the wooden bridge As in a spellbound tie You will forget all other scenes But those beneath your eye. Go further down the stream and see The eel weir, old and grey To which the Drowes takes its course >From Laureen's sheltered bay; And view those groves of Irish palm, The ash and oak tree too; Alas! I say farewell to all Round Melvin waters blue. The thrush will sing the whole day long Upon the rowan tree But I won't hear that oft' heard song For I'll be far from thee. And once, for all, I'll say good-bye To friends and comrades gay, In hopes to meet again through time Then gladly will I stay And tread again those dear old scenes, That must forever reign Supreme in every exile's heart Far from his native plain. And when I do return again Old joys we will renew We'll dance and sing the whole day long Round Melvin waters blue. This song was composed about 1870 by Annie McGowan, daughter of John McGowan, teacher in Edenville N.S. Annie emigrated to England, where she lived until her death in 1929. Her nearest living relatives are the Gallaghers of Mullinaleck. Éadan Bhile = The Slope of the Lone (sacred) Tree. Area 456 acres. Population 303 (1841); 208 (1851); 190 (1861); 122 (1891); 92 (1911). Number of houses: 45 (1841); 38 (1851); 35 (1861); 29 (1891); 26 (1911). Part of Lareen Estate. It is located at the northern corner of Lough Melvin. A national school was established in this townland in 1847 to the south of the junction between the Kinlough road and the new estate. In 1866 a new school was built where Thomas Kelly now lives. In 1939 the Four Masters school was built now (c. late 1990's) occupied by the Brennan family.. This school served Kinlough village until 1985. Now generally spelled "Edenville", though old pronunciation was "Aidenvell Mul na Leaca = The Summit of Flagstones. Area 123 acres. Population 84 (1841); 74 (1851); 52 (1861); 55 (1891); 24 (1911). Number of houses: 16 (1841); 14 (1851); 11 (1861); 11 (1891); 6 (1911). Part of Lareen Estate. There is a long history of mills and milling in this townland. There were iron, flax and timber mills here. The water wheels and the mill race at Gallagher's are still intact. One of the great corn grindstones now forms the altar stone in the Franciscan Friary at Multyfarnham, where Brother Hugh Gallagher of Mullinaleck is a member. The derivation of the name of the townland could also be Muileann na Leice = The Flaggy Mill. The townland is situated to the north of Mullinaleck Bridge and the River Drowes.

SNIPPET: Per an article in Mar-April 1988 issue of "Ireland of the Welcomes" magazine published in Dublin -- Fourteen years earlier, in the townland of Eden, Co. Leitrim, near the village of Rossinver, Rod ALSTON had purchased a cottage with 21 acres of thin soil with its sticky muds and clays that had "broken the farming hearts" of local generations. Over time, and with the helop of business partner, Dolores KEEGAN, Rod managed to coax the soil into a virtual "Garden of Eden" - their fine and comprehensive herb garden making the bumblebees of Rossinver drunk with its myriad wonders, flowers and plants of all descriptions and hues. Better still, Eden had became a commerical enterprise backboned by a soaring demand for its premium quality organic vegetables and more than 100 herbs. The dark-haired, bearded man from Manchester, England, with a political science degree somewhere in a drawer, and the pretty flame-haired girl from Dublin who got her horticulture degree in Dublin's famed Botanical Gardens, created a kind of plant paradise. (Photos can be found in an article by Cormac MacCONNELL, correspondent of "The Irish Press," in the Mar-April 1988 issue of "Ireland of the Welcomes: magazine). Midst their paradise of plants, Rod ALSTON attended to the dairy side of the business, as well. "On a summer evening,' said Rod contentedly, 'the herbs especially create a magnificent fragrance all around the garden. It is quite an experience to be out there when the sun goes down' - the air redolent with parsley, sage, rosemary and many different varieties of thyme ... Tansy (not just a herb, but a delousing agent for animals), piquant Spearmint, the Garlic Chive herb, the Eau-de-Cologne herb, Teasel and Red Raripila, etc. At the time the article was written there was a high demand for their produce. In fact, they could scarcely cope with the demand - both mail order and local - and a restaurant in the region was buying courgette flowers to stuff with lobster mousse. So, per the author, when the churnbutter sun slides down over Eden each evening to set in the warm translucence of Lough Melvin shimmering below, it passes over no less than two and a half tilled acres. Using organic techniques only, together with polyeehene tunnels, the hardworking pair was producing a wide range of commercial vegetables. "We started a North Leitrim Vegetable Growers Association all those years ago. Initially, we sold out on the street, but now we have good premises in Manorhamilton. About half of our produce is sold there, and the rest through other outlets. In 1988, The Garden of Eden near Rossinver was producing four varieties of lettuce alone. They said the work was hard but satisfying - it was keeping them almost self-sufficient. "We have goats, hens, geese, ducks, cows and, accordingly, goat's cheees, free-range eggs. (Perhaps they are still in business?) With their green fingers, the man from Manchester and the woman from Dublin had also carefully tended to an old staggering Bramley apple tree with its beautiful but bitter fruit. They refreshed and revived it, set it sturdily upright, until once more its blossoms were flaunting themselves over the herb garden. And Dolores KEEGAN, with her culinary skills, was doing wondrous things with the big cooking apples in tarts and flans that should - there in Eden - almost be regarded as forbidden fruit.

Rootsweb Soundex Converter for surnames: http://resources.rootsweb.com/cgi-bin/soundex.html Scroll down and enter your surname of interest in the boxed field.

SNIPPET: Readers shared their thoughts about Ireland in the Mar-Apr 2005 issue of Dublin's "Ireland of the Welcomes" magazine: Martina BIONDA, Lakewood, CO, shared: "I find it positively necessary to comment on 'The Road of Souls' article which you featured in the Nov/Dec 2004 issue of your magazine. The vibrant memoir is so finely detailed that we literally sobbed as we sat around our table in awe of the magic of the writing. The author P. J. CURTIS respectfully presented the coarse life of 'the traveller' by embracing Rory Dubh's distinct majesty, wisdom, simplicity and ultimate freedom. How accurate the mention of the gaily painted caravans, the sweet tea and the frosty night brings forth life to the pages. The author's admiration of the traveller is much in concurrence with ours, although we are a family of 'outsiders' who are sadly far from our beloved ancestral Ireland. I personally have possessed a true fondness for the lifestyle of the 'tinkers' of the past. My siblings, myself and our children have been blessed with the gift of story-telling which was passed along from my precious late grandmother from Co Cork through my mother from Limerick City. Each experienced opportunities exclusive to Ireland. In this age of turmoil, haste and complexity, we eagerly long for the simplicity of the past which is superbly portrayed with 'The Road of Souls.' I wish to thank both P. J. CURTIS and IOTW for publishing such a treasured writing. The story brought us home momentarily but it will remain in our hearts forever... " Theresa WICHERT, Mattydale, NY, wrote: "What a beautiful article written by P. J. CURTIS in your Nov-Dec 2004 issue of IOTW. 'The Road of Souls' was a truly Irish story that tugged at the heart and soul while being read. So realistic were the players and places described, one felt they were actually there, and not only outside looking in. Even if the reader does not believe in Rory Dubh O'BRIEN's version of the Milky Way, they would find themselves wishing they did, just to meet this grand old man!" Mitch McGILVRA, Palm Bay, FL, shared: "... In late March 2000, a week or so before my birthday, I went to dinner with my mother and a cousin. Before dinner she presented me with a large envelope and said, 'Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas.' When I opened the envelope there was a copy of IOTW, along with some travel brochures to Ireland. While I sat there with my mouth open, she said, 'We are going to Ireland.' My mother had congestive heart failure in 1997, and again in 1999; but she wanted to see Ireland before she died and wanted me to go there with her. We had also, as a family, tried to send my grandfather to Ireland many years earlier, but unfortunately because he was so afraid of flying he never went. We arrived in Dublin on June 8, 2000, after travelling almost 24 hours without sleep. The morning rush-hour traffic was a great way to learn how to drive a stick-shift car on the other side of the road. We travelled south through Wicklow, Arklow, Waterford, Clonmel, Cahir where I felt terrible that my mother was not strong enough to make the climb up to see the Rock of Cashel. In Tipperary, we made fast friends with a dog called 'Scooby Do' in the pub where we stopped; I was lucky enough to get a good photograph of that dog licking my mother's face. Travelling on to Galway, we walked along the coastline, where I was sure one of us would be blown over. I still can't believe that people play golf right beside Galway Bay. We travelled on through Connemara and it was truly breathtaking ... We both knew we had arrived home when we reached Westport. You see, since our trip I have been researching exactly where my great-great grandfather came from in Ireland before coming to America in the early 1840s and we discovered he was from Westport. But the funny thing is that we both just knew it the moment we arrived there. We could only spend two days there, but we had a wonderful time. I went back to Ireland again in the summer of 2002 and spent two weeks traveling around on my own and once again I spent a long time in Ennis and an even longer time in Westport. I also went to see some places which I hadn't seen during my first visit, made some good friends and had a grand time. Sadly, on the morning of December 10, 2002, my mother passed away. I promised her that I would spread some of her ashes back 'home' in Ireland and it took some time to organise, but in the last week in August of 2003, I returned to Ireland and fulfilled my promise to her and sprinkled the last few ashes of what was a wonderful person at a beautiful spot in Mayo where our ancestors came from. So slainte Donna BRENNAN, and until we meet again." Terri FALVEY, Indianapolis, IN, wrote: "Since her election in 1997, I have enjoyed following the career of Ireland's president, Mary McALEESE. I find it especially interesting that although she is president of the Republic, she is in fact originally from Northern Ireland, which gives her a unique perspective on cross-border relations. Her 'person of the people' reputation and engaging speaking abilities, support her strong leadership qualities. That said, I will go on with my story of an incredibly timed encounter with President McALEESE. Last summer, my husband and I, along with our sons, and close family friends, rented an amazing home on Clew Bay in County Mayo. One morning, while the teens and college kids slept in, a few of us early-risers ventured out for a morning drive and found ourselves in the tiny coastal town of Bangor Erris. While sipping our coffees, we were startled when the pub owner calmly announced that the President would be arriving in ten minutes time. Of course, our immediate thoughts were that it would be the town council's president, civic association president, etc. Oh no, it would be none other than President Mary McALEESE, and she was coming to Bangor Erris to open a Community Services Centre. We gulped our coffees and hurried up the road where a small crowd had gathered. My husband, Tim, our friend, and myself were the only tourists, but the townspeople were very friendly and appreciative that we were there to share the moment with them. Sure enough, with only one police escort, (unlike the massive security in the U.S), President McALEESE arrived with her husband Martin at her side. How thrilling it was to stand in the doorway of the crowded Community Centre and listen to her speak on issues such as the importance of respect for the elderly and the future of Ireland's children. True to form, it was an inspiring speech. I will forever cherish that memory of a much simpler place and time. In our hectic, fast paced world, may we all have more of those unexpected pleasures that slow us down so that we may truly savour the moment."

SNIPPET: The Nov-Dec 1998 issue of Dublin's "Ireland of the Welcomes" magazine included these responses from readers: Marie A. COWAN, Peoria, IL, penned: "Today it is 94 degrees in Peoria, Illinois, USA. Nothing better to do than to find something good to read and keep cool. How happy I was to find the July-Aug issue of IOTW in my mail box. The story of "1500 years of Dun Laoghaire" sent me happy back to my trip to Ireland two years ago. My first sight of Ireland was from the H.S.S. Stena ferry as we arrived in Dun Laoghaire. We spent three wonderful days there, seeing many of the sights mentioned in the story. We stayed in a B&B on Rosmeen Gardens, walked for hours in the area and got the Dart to and from Dublin. At Bansha, Co. Tipperary at the Catholic Parish house the wonderful people there located the marriage record of my great-grandparents in 1849. They came to America in 1850. What a thrilling experience to see the record. I subscribed to IOTW a year before going to Ireland and every issue is a 'mini' visit there. I treasure every issue and go back to them often. I may never get back to Ireland in person but I go there in heart and spirit with every issue!" David Joseph WEIR, Nashville, TN, shared: "I thoroughly enjoy your magazine, especially the beautiful photographs. As a third generation Irish-American, your publication has proven to be an excellent way to stay in touch with Ireland. Your articles are widely diverse in subject matter and concisely assembled. Well done! One major problem that I do have with your publication is that it altogether too brief. The magazine needs to contain many more pages. Good luck and keep up the good work." (The editor responded that they have recently increased the number of pages in the magazine). Elizabeth MURPHY, Novato, CA, shared: "Two days after reading J. M. SYNGE's 'The Aran Islands,' your July-Aug issue arrived. I was understandably excited to see 'That Enquiring Man.' My connection to the Aran Islands comes through my mother-in-law, Mary Ellen McDONAGH, who was born in Kilronan in 1878. She very well could be one of the 'tall girls' which SYNGE reported meeting at Inishmore. She came to the United States and eventually married Charles H. MURPHY in San Francisco. Mary was almost a head taller than Charlie. Her son Ray was 6 ft 2 in with black hair, blue eyes and quite handsome. Ray and I visited Ireland in 1978 and spent four days on Inishmore. We visited relatives still living there. There were three nights of dancing, which we attended, lots of Gaelic was spoken. The music was provided by an accordion and drums. All the men would line up on one side of the room and the women on the other. When a dance was announced the men and boys would rush across the room to get a partner. There were no wallflowers! I have received IOTW for many years now and always look forward to it." Ann MAUPIN, Reno, NV, wrote: I received my fourth issue of your magazine ... It puts a smile on my face when I go through each issue. I have never been to Ireland but this magazine satisfies me until I can actually go there. I'm only 13, but I save every penny that I earn to get someday to your beautiful isle. I have tons of books and brochures on Ireland, but of all the material that I have, IOTW is the best ... I'll hopefully get to see it for myself." (The editor noted he was sending her a copy of "Irish Legends," by Iain ZACZEK). Mary K. HUNGERFORD, Murphy, NC, penned: ".... I saved the issue from 1993 which featured the article on Frances O'DONNELL of Lantern Lodge Bed & Breakfast in Ballyorgan, Kilfinane, Co. Limerick. In September 1995, my son Mark and I went to Ireland and stayed there three nights, where Frances take you in as part of the family. We are planning another trip back to Ireland for June of 1999. .... We can't wait to get back to the Lantern Lodge."

SNIPPET: James BREHENY was born in Greenane, Keash, County Sligo in 1871. He joined the RIC (Royal Irish Constabulary) on 15 September 1892 and was allocated registered number 55465. His diary was found after his death and has now found its way to a third generation of his family in Sligo. (See added note at bottom for more details). James was the 7th and youngest son of 10 children of Michael BREHENY (1829-1899). Three of James's brothers had emigrated to the United States. Michael settled in NY in June 1879 - his son was District Court Judge in East Orange; Thomas left in May 1884 and became Chief of Police in Washington DC; Bernard emigrated in 1887 and carried on a business in Newark, NJ. His brothers Patrick (1859-89) and Mark (1868-98) also joined the RIC as did his nephews John and Patrick BREHENY. In 1922, John BREHENY enlisted in the RUC (Royal Ulster Constabulary) on disbandment of the RIC, whereas two of his sons, Mark and Bernard, joined An Garda Siochana in 1922. Bernard left the Gardai and emigrated to NY where he was murdered. James BREHENY was pensioned in August 1920 and soon after he came to reside at the Iona Hotel, Rosslare, owned by a Mrs. FURLONG. Writing 25 years later he stated, "I have not known an unhappy hour since." James never married. He died in 1948. The new proprietor of the Iona Hotel found his diary after his death and passed it onto a family member. The diary is a testament to James's powers of observation, which were no doubt enhanced by his RIC training. The diary itself contained over 100 pages of his travels throughout Ireland, the UK and the United States. "Irish Roots" magazine (1998 #3) published in Cork has an article with a nice photo of James BREHENY in uniform and excerpts from his diary. Here are just a couple tidbits: "I joined the RIC on 15 September 1892. I went to the Depot in Dublin that day and went under a course of training there which lasted until the 6 May 1893...." He goes on to speak of several transfers and/or duties in other counties - Limerick, Roscommon, Mayo, Wexford, Galway, Tipperary, Cork City, Kerry ..... ".... His Majesty King Edward VII visited Ireland in 1903. I was detailed as one of his plainclothes escorts during His Majesty's stay in Dublin. I became attached to the G Division Dublin Metropolitan Police. I travelled with the King to Maynooth College, Leopardstown Races, Belfast, Recess in Galway and Cork City. When this duty finished I got a month's vacation and I joined my brother Michael who was home on his first visit from America in 1903 after an absence of 24 years. He left Ireland in 1879 when I was eight years old..." He mentions his brother Bernard had purchased a hotel in Boyle.... .... "While in county Roscommon, I spent three months at the Four Roads RIC Station protecting a man named John BURKE who was boycotted for having grabbed a farm of land which Thomas KILLEEN had been evicted from. This was the most unpleasant duty I performed for three months of my police life..." and later .... "I went from Killinick to Wexford town, and was discharged on pension at Wexford on 17 August 1920. I was now a free man once again. It is the one thing a man looks forward to during his entire service. Of all the stations I had been in, I liked the Reserve Depot (apparently Dublin) most. Wexford was my favourite county and Mayo my least favourite. When in Mayo in 1907 His Majesty King Edward VII paid a visit to the Dublin Exhibition. I was again detailed to form one of his escorts in plainclothes. I was in Dublin on this duty for seven days.... I passed through the service without any trouble or bother. I never got into any trouble and left the RIC without having ever had any complaint made against me for any breach of discipline. It was my ambition to leave it with as good a reputation as I had when I joined the RIC. Now I was at large again in the world, a free man. The next thing was to find a place to stay. In the RIC a home was always provided; also clothes and bedding. For the first time in life it was up to me." The article is by Jim HERLIHY, an author who has written several books about RIC records. ADDED NOTE: Apparently the surname BREHENY (O'BREHENY) is interchangeable with the surname JUDGE, doing a search on the web. This was also verified by a 2001 note on a Rootsweb Message Board by a Paul Bernard JUDGE of Maplewood, NJ, who states that this (?) James BREHENY was his grandfather's brother, and that his grandfather Bernard KANE BREHENY started using the surname JUDGE after emigrating and living in NJ. He states that BREHENY comes from the word "brehon" (judge or law-giver). Jean

SNIPPET: Readers of Dublin's "Ireland of the Welcomes" magazine shared their comments in the Nov-Dec 2005 issue: Deanna BLOUGH, Jefferson, OH wrote: "August 2004 found my husband and I winging our way to Ireland to attend the McGREEVY Clan Gathering in Co. Cavan. I found information about it while researching my ggrandmother's roots and thought it would be good to go along. My husband, bless his German, French and English heart, agreed and plans were made. We flew into a wonderful sunrise, and as our plane circled Dublin Airport prior to landing we could see that it was raining on the ground. Through breaks in the clouds, I could see glimpses of the beautiful green and gold of the countryside. After we landed and finally set foot on Irish soil, I experienced a wonderful feeling of coming home. It explained my emotions in the weeks prior to our departure: not excitement about finally going to make a trip I'd dreamed of all my life; rather one of peace, that this was what we were meant to do. The Gathering was wonderful - cousins from Ireland, England, France, the USA and Australia toured McGREEVY lands in Cavan, Roscommon and Down. We made such great friends and learned so much about our heritage. The big Gala was a total delight, and two of my young cousins from OH sang a song with me which my aunt and their grandmother had written about Ireland many years before. The words had never really meant much to me until I actually spent time in your lovely land. I am planning on returning in 2006, when the McGREEVY Clan will come together again in Co. Cavan. I hope that we can stay longer than two weeks the next time. Although I have not yet found out where in Ireland my ancestors were born, I'll be content to be in their homeland. Thanks for taking me back through the pages of your magazine." Dick and Jane BOWLER, Arlington, MA shared: "This June, my brother John and I, with our wives visited Ireland and particularly the 'Kingdom of Kerry.' The weather being perfect made our trip delightful. My wife and I have been to your lovely country many times, and with the use of a rental car, we were able to show Jack and Fran the byways of Ireland ... Our surname is BOWLER, so of course we searched out and found Ballybowler on the Dingle Peninsula, not far from the town of Dingle (An Daingean). The photograph which I enclose shows John and I standing on a bridge that is a stone's throw from Ballybowler. Upon returning home, we received the July-Aug 2005 issue of IOTW with an article on 'The Butter Road.' We found to our surprise and great joy, a picture which we believe to be this very bridge. Apparently this bridge has historical significance - it was named the Garfinny Bridge and dates back to the 16th century, a great tribute to the stone masons of that time. If this bridge is the same as the one in your magazine, it will certainly make our trip all the more wonderful ..." (The editor, who printed the photo, confirmed that it was the same bridge, a wonderful example of dry-stone craftsmanship).

THE GRAVE OF RURY Clear as air, the western waters Evermore their sweet, unchanging song Murmur in their stony channels Round O'Conor's sepulchre in Cong. Crownless, hopeless, here he lingered; Year on year went by him like a dream, While the far-off roar of conquest Murmured faintly like the singing stream. Here he died, and here they tombed him, Men of Fechin, chanting round his grave. Did they know, ah! did they know it, What they buried by the babbling wave? Now above the sleep of Rury Holy things and great have passed away; Stone by stone the stately Abbey Falls and fades in passionless decay. Darkly grows the quiet ivy, Pale the broken arches glimmer through; Dark upon the cloister-garden Dreams the shadow of the ancient yew. Through the roofless aisles the verdure Flows, the meadow-sweet and fox-glove bloom. Earth, the mother and consoler, Winds soft arms about the lonely tomb. Peace and holy gloom possess him, Last of Gaelic monarchs of the Gael, Slumbering by the young, eternal River-voices of the western vale. --Thomas W. H. Rolleston

To the list Joseph & Catty WARD abt 1750+ Family - Peter, Nelly, Jams, John, Mary, Bernard & Jams - all baptised Ardee, Louth between 1780 and 1791. Bernard ( alias Bryant) a convict, convicted in Dublin in 1815 and sent to Tasmania for seven years. Looking for court records? What happened to other family members? Judith

SNIPPET: In the April 1981 issue of the Washington DC's "National Geographic" magazine, are several photo-stories. One, "War and Peace in Northern Ireland," by Bryan HODGSON, of the magazine's senior staff, has a charming full-page color photo by Cary WOLINSKY with a caption that reads: "Jigs and reels fly from John LOUGHRAN's fiddle when the blind musician from Pomeroy (Tyrone) sits down with his four-year-old neighbor, Mary McCULLAGH. In return for acting as his eyes while John tends a small flock of sheep, Mary is taught to play the ukulele, tin whistle, and fiddle. 'Oh, Mary's a great girl altogether, now she is,' John brags." Lovely photo!

SNIPPET: Bryan HODGSON's article, "Irish Ways Live On in Dingle," appeared in the April 1976 issue of the "Smithsonian" Washington D.C. magazine. Bryan, on the senior editorial staff, wrote that he was 'an Irishman by half,' his mother was born in Cork, and he had spent childhood holidays in West Clare, not far north. "... No spirits mourn at the Stone of Reask, which marks the site of an ancient monastery near Ballyferriter. But as I gaze at the gaunt monolith, with its Greek cross carved like a fossil flower atop a net of abstract spirals, the sun's slant turns spirals into eyes, and suddenly I glimpse the death's head worshiped by the ancient ones of Ireland. Perhaps the artist who carved it some 1,500 years ago purposely combined Christian symbol with pagan design. Reask was a holy place in the earliest days of Ireland's Christianity, and the stone stands like a challenge to the 'gallauns,' the holy pillars of the Druids, which still stand nearby. Reask was almost certainly a meeting ground between early monks and the Druids, whose sacred task was to preserved the unwritten law and legend of the Celts. Such meetings through the fifth and sixth centuries bore fruit. Irishmen learned Latin, and used its alphabet to make a written language that glittered with the storyteller's art. Converts brought the same talent to Christianity. For six centuries Irish monks were famed throughout Europe for the rigor of their training and the vigor of their tongues. The Irish scholars continued the tradition of the 'filid' - a caste of learned seers honored in Ireland for a thousand years. Doncha O CONCHUIR is something of a 'fili' himself. He is a teacher at Ballyferriter school, and his recently (1970s) published book, 'Corca Dhuibhne,' which presents a detailed study of the peninsula's archeology and history, is one of the few works of modern scholarship to be printed exclusively in Irish. 'Students of the language should have something to chew on besides old tales,' he says. 'And we should not have to study the history of our own land in a foreign tongue.' Doncha is too charitable a man and too conscientious a scholar to abandon me to my monoglot ignorance. he teaches me the language of stone and sets me on the way. Near Reask, I enter the Gallarus Oratory, a small chapel shaped like an overturned boat. Its unmortared stone walls have stood against Atlantic storms for more than a thousand years. The early monks built many such cells and chapels on Corca Dhuibhne's islands, cliffs, and mountaintops. Certainly they felt closer to God on that wild seacoast. Perhaps their faith gave birth to the proverb that says, 'Heaven lies in he wet, a foot and a half above the head of a man.' Monks produced the first written Irish poetry. With a Celt's eye for worldly beauty, one of them wrote: 'Let us adore the Lord/Maker of wondrous things/Great bright Heaven with its angels/And on earth the white-waved sea.' And another, taking a spur-of-the-moment holiday from scholarship in the ninth century, wrote this beguiling verse in Irish on one of the pages of his weighty work: "I and Pangur Ban my cat/'Tis a like task we are at/Hunting mice is his delight/Hunting words I sit all night.' It pleases me to think that Gallarus, too, may have been the cheerier for a cat. A mile away in the graveyard of the ruined 12th-century church of Kilmalkedar, I find a pillar of stone cut with the codelike lines of Ogham script, probably Latin-based, the earliest alphabet of the Celts. Nearby a huge cross battered crudely from a slab of stone leans toward a plaster Madonna. At the base is a jar of plastic flowers. The grass whispers, and centuries blur and blend..."

SNIPPET: Richard LOVETT, enthusiastic and observant Victorian traveller to Ireland, kept an account of his journey which was published in 1888 by The Religious Tract Society. "Dublin is favoured with suburbs that are easily accessible, beautiful in their scenery, and rich in historical and antiquarian associations. It is in this connection, although it hardly comes under the description of a suburb, that reference must be made to Phoenix Park. The name has no reference to the ancient fable, but is derived from 'fionn uisge,' clear or limpid water, the name originally given to the beautiful spring near the Phoenix Pillar. This being pronounce 'feenisk,' was easily corrupted into Phoenix. The park was seized by the Crown on the suppression of the Knights Templars, whose residence was at Kilmainham, and who owned the land on both sides of the Liffey . It is a magnificent piece of country, seven miles in circuit, with many level open spaces, in which hurling, football, and other games are eagerly played by the youth of Dublin; and, from different points of vantage, very fine views are obtained. Within its limits stand the Viceregal Lodge, the houses of the Chief and the Under-Secretaries for Ireland, a military school and infirmary, and the building in which the Ordnance survey work is carried on. It also contains a review ground and, a People's Gardens, and a Zoological Gardens. The military prowess of Ireland is commemorated here by an imposing, if not beautiful, obelisk to WELLINGTON and a statue of Lord GOUGH. The Botanical Gardens at Glasnevin, hard by the large cemetery in which the modern round tower in memory of O'CONNELL rises to a great height, are also very lovely, well kept, and so laid out as to enable the frequenter easily and considerably to increase his knowledge of flowers and shrubs. The Curator's house was once the abode of the poet TICKELL, and a grove of aged yew trees is still known as 'Addison's Walk.' No place could well be prettier, or more attractive to a lover of botany than Glasnevin on a fine afternoon in early summer."

SNIPPET: Per "The Oxford Companion to Irish History," ed. S. J. CONNOLLY: Fishermen from the SE of Ireland began to travel regularly to the rich fishing grounds off Newfoundland from the second half of the 17th century. In the first decades of the 19th century the long-standing connections established by seasonal and temporary migration provided the basis for a wave of permanent emigration. An estimated 30-35 thousand people, drawn overwhelmingly from Waterford and its hinterland, settled in Newfoundland 1800-30, giving its popular culture and spoken English a distinctive flavour.

SNIPPET: Readers expressed their thoughts about Ireland in the Sept-Oct 2004 issue of Dublin-published magazine, "Ireland of the Welcomes." Thomas A. P. RYAN, London, Ontario, commented: "As a long time subscriber I was, as always, glad to receive your Mar-April 2004 issue, which I very much enjoyed. I was particularly pleased to see the article 'Gone But Not Forgotten' by Shay FENNELLY. The photo-spread was also a delight. However, one thing that was not mentioned in the article was the friendliness and warmth of all the people of Newfoundland/Labrador. Their hospitality rivals that of Ireland itself. On that terrible day of September 11, 2001, no airplanes were allowed to land on the east coast of the USA. All planes were diverted to Canada with the majority of them landing in Newfoundland. The Newfoundlanders welcomed thousands of stranded passengers into their midst. They put them up in their homes and other facilities providing them with shelter, food and sleeping quarters, as well as other necessities. These strangers were strangers for only a short time. They soon became fast friends with their hosts. Many returned after the emergency, not only to say thanks, and to revisit the new-found friends with whom they shared difficult times, but also humour and high spirits. Some American friends were even introduced to 'Screech' (a very potent homemade brew). There are many other Irish stories in Canada - the Grosse Ile Irish Centre in Quebec comes to mind. Thanks for your very fine magazine ..." (The editor added that there were many Irish-Canadian links, recent and historic, which deserve exploration and he would keep the subject in mind for a future issue.). Mary BURR, Blooming Prairie, MN, shared: "I was so thrilled to see Aidan QUINN on the cover of the Mar-April issue. When I was in Ireland in October 2002, one evening we were watching a movie 'This Is My Father' with Aidan QUINN. Halfway through the movie, it was interrupted by the election results and they never showed the rest of the movie. When I returned home ... I bought the video of this movie and finally got to see it through to the end. Aidan QUINN is a true son of Ireland. It was a great article and you can sense his deep love for your wonderful country. When I left Ireland, I left part of my heart. I look forward to returning. In the meantime, your wonderful magazine keeps my heart soothed until I can once again set foot on the right Irish soil .... " Patricia CORTES, NYC, said she was also a big fan of Aidan QUINN, and she had a request: "I was wondering if, in the near future, you might be doing an article on my favourite actor (and hometown Dubliner), Gabriel BYRNE. Living here in NY, I have had the luck to see him a few times and was at the Irish Arts Center awards dinner two years ago when he received his 'Spirit of Ireland' award. It would be truly wonderful to see a feature of him and his accomplishments. He has such a deep love for Ireland and does a tremendous amount of work to promote Irish culture here in NY." Larissa SCHULTZ, Los Angeles, CA wrote: "I have just returned from the most wonderful holiday to Ireland. I met people who opened their lives and families to me. I met people who told me stories, made me laugh - at times bringing tears to my eyes - people who listened to my stories, who explained Irish customs, quoted Irish poets and Irish blessings. People who toasted with me, drank with me and dined with me. I walked through lush emerald green fields, deep woods, over ruins from centuries ago. I saw the most amazing historical sites, seventh century abbeys in ruins, thirteenth century castles standing firmly intact, thatched homes and remote cemeteries. I drove down narrow winding roads, throughout the countryside. Roads which took me along loughs, rivers, streams and bays. Roads that led to ferries which took me to remote islands on the wild Atlantic ocean. I drove by cows and their calves, horses and their foals, and sheep with their new spring lamb roaming along the country roads. I saw mountains, beaches, valleys and fields rich in Irish soil. And when I returned in the evenings, I would meet up in the infamous 'Thatch' pub, with friends who were once strangers. We'd catch up on the day, raise a glass and settle in for an evening of laughter, stories and traditional music. My heart has been truly touched by the land, the history and the music of Ireland, but more than that by the people of Ireland. God Bless their Irish hearts."

SNIPPET: Edwin John PRATT, one of Newfoundland and Canada's foremost poets, grandson of a sea captain and bred to the sea though he took up the religious and later the academic life, remained always a poet. His moving "Erosion" is just eight lines: "It took the sea a thousand years,/A thousand years to trace/The granite features of this cliff/In crag and scarp and base/ It took the sea an hour one night,/An hour of storm to place/The sculpture of these granite seams/Upon a woman's face." "However Blow The Winds: An Anthology of Poetry and Song from Newfoundland, Labrador and Ireland," (2004) ed. John ENNIS, Randall MAGGS, Stephanie McKENZIE (Scop Productions Inc/Waterford Institute of Technology, gives us an overview of the interlocked song and poetry of both Ireland and Newfoundland, the latter born of the working poor of both Ireland and Britain, but quickly developing a body of culture of its own not uninfluenced by the indigenous Innou tradition of Labrador. This new book is the sister volume from the same people who gave us "The Backyards of Heaven: An Anthology of Contemporary Poetry from Ireland and Newfoundland and Labrador" (2003). Amongst the earlier material we have the work of Donnchad Rua MacCONAMARA who lived and wrote in Newfoundland in the 18th century A wide range is included - Eibhlin Dubh Ni CHONAILL, Brian MERRIMAN, W. B. YEATS, Enos WATTS, Sean O'RIORDAN, John MONTAGUE, Mary DALTON, John STEFFLER and Al PITTMAN. A particular focus of the anthology is the folklore-related ballad. So high prized is this cultural expression that almost every Newfoundland Bay and inlet has its own particular favourite - sometimes more than one." ISBN 0-9540281-2-0, P/b Can $40.00/25.00 euros. -- Review, "Ireland of the Welcomes" magazine published in Dublin. .