Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1879-10-23
The Sturp Teller.
IRISH STORIES.
DONEGAL LEGENDS.

"'Feard? Is it 'feard you are? It's the
fine brave man you are, for certain"
These last words, spoken in tone of with
ering scorn, were addressed to Tom Doolan
by his comrade and neighbor, Jack Devenny
The two men were about to launch their
boat and row across the Tough, to cut osiers
on the island and Tom, whose face was pale
and whose step tottered, hung back when the
time came to take his place and begin to
handle his oar.
1t was sunny August day. The noun
tains, covered with heather, glowed warm
crimson in the sunshine; while the corn fields
were like sheets of gold, and Tamney Lough
was mirror to reflect unbrokenly the blue
sky and sailing clouds.
Far away beyond Mulroy,, an inlet of the
Atlantic, stretched other mountains, tier upon
tier, the nearest hills purple, the most distant
ones like smoke.colored :phantoms against
the sky. Even the acres on acres of bog that
Law between the corn fields had beauty Of
their own. Everything was silent. There
was no whir and and bleat of snipe, no cry OF
gull or plover Smoke rose from the chin
neys of the little mud.cabins scattered here
and there over the country, but there were no
voices to be heard only in the village OF
Tamney there was some slight traffic and
stir.
Cleared is it you are, Tam p repeated
Devenny, as he showed off from the land.
"Ay-the witch the witch I" faltered
the other, paler than before
On sloping field just above the Tough
was cabin, no better than those in the vii.
lage, and Tom raised his timid eyes toward
it while he whispered, the witch the witch y
Betty Moriarty had lived there as long
as the oldest inhabitant could remember.
Paddy Steven, who had been born in the
year 1894, declared that she had seemed an
old woman when he was a boy ;; and now,. in
1877, she looked younger than he.'
There were other circumstances that made
Betty's neighbors regard her with ave.
She had no ostensible means Of support,
yet she had plenty of everything in her cos-
tage; a pile of the driest turf, which no one
had seen cut, or drawn home from the bog ;
quantities of milk and butter that she had
not bought at the shop; clothes, that like
the garments of the children of Israel, "waxed
not DID," All this seemed to be not merely
comfort, but wealth and splendor, in the eyes
of the simple people. Many woman who
happened to have small churning, firmly
believed Betty to have drawn away the butter
from her churn, but was afraid TO quarrel
with her, and therefore spoke of her loss in
guarded whispers.
The only person who had had courage to
reproach the witch, was Tom Doolan, whom
she had now reduced to an abiect state of
fear.
Some months before the beginning of our
story, Betty had kissed Toms youngest boy
without saying, "God bless you for bonny
wean," and the child had pined away ever
since Father Dan, indeed, had confirmed
the suspicious of the parents by certifying
that the little fellow was suffering from the
baneful influence of an evil.eye.
When Tom Doolan had openly charged
ber with having bewitched his child, and had
driven her down the village street, not, indeed,
lifting his own hand to her, but permitting
his boys to pelt her with mud and pebbles,
she had turned to shake her stick at him, and
to threaten vengeance, muttering curses mot
loud but Deep
"She said she'd waste me to skin an bone !;
she said her eyed be on me sleeping and
waking" faltered the trembling man.
'"Whist, wi your foolitchness," reproved
his companion.
Little Eileen Devenny, too young at six
years old to be afraid of the witch, came to
old Betty's door at that moment and peeped
in.
She saw the old woman pour water into a
large tub that stood in the middle Of the
room, and place wooden dish in it, and,
full of interest and curiosity, she walked into
the cabin.
"There, wean," said Betty, "you watch
thon tub, an tell me what the wee dish does,
an I'll gle you piece wi taste o butter
an sugar on it,
The witch crouched by the hearth, with her
pointed chin supported on her skinny, claw
like hands, Her face was thin and furrowed,
her nose meagre and hooked, her eyes cruel
and cunning, and the long teeth that her
parted lips disclosed, while she muttered in
carnations, looked cruel too.
"What is it you're sayin', Betty?" asked
the child.
"Watch the wee dish, child, an tell me
what you see."
"Oh, Betty Betty! the dish is going round
an round in the tub"
More muttering.
whats the dish doing now, Eileen ma.
vourneen?"
"Oh! oh OBJ Musha musha It's spin.
ming round as fast anything It's turning
over There It's full of water-it's gone
to the bottom O the tub"
"Thats right" and Betty rubbed her skin.
ny claws together, and grinned with pleasure.
"Thon's your daddy's boat that's sunk in
Tamney Lough," she chuckeled, can thon
thief O the world, thon rascal Tom Doolan
g in her, an he'll be drowned. Curse him
he set his boys to pelt me wi mud an stones.
Let him drown an burn" She continued, in
lower tone:
"'Nae candle at his head,
Nae priest beside his bed
Nae winding sheet, nae hearse,
Nae coffin for his corse.'"
When little Eileen caught these dreadful
words, she became frightened and ran to the
door. The sky was as clear as ever, except
directly above the osier island Of Tamney
Lough, where heavy cloud seemed to hang
while white-crest waves, driven by the
wind, washed over the upturned boat, which
dashed, rudderless, up and down upon the
rocky point Of the island.
1t was a strange sight. The furious storm
was confined to that one spot, while on al
other sides the landscape lay glowing in Au
gust sunshine.
"My daddy's boats lost He'll be drown
ed p said the child, returning to Bettys side
and beginning to cry.
"Hurrah hurrah p' cried the witch:
"'Nae candle at his head,