Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1886-11-11

tions which are generally supposed to
make favorable impression on women's
hearts.
Ladies are capricious beings, and there
is no accounting for their peculiar tastes.
We're not the ugliest dwarfs and most be-
sotted criminals often and often in the
past the objects of the tenderest affection
to the purest and loveliest daughters of
Eve? And does not the world wag now
precisely as it wagged before?
A Story of Halloween in Ireland.
Harper's Magazine.
One wild clustering afternoon of the
last day of October | made my way as
best could across stretch of hilly moor
land, vainIy hoping that l might meet
with someone able to direct me to my
destination. Looking round, perceived
man waving his arm to me, and as ap-
preached him I noticed that he was a
piper-a fact of which he soon informed
me himself, adding that he was on the
way to Mr.. Connolly's farm to provide the
music for the dancing that was sure to
follow the regular Halloween festivities
1t was well he deserted me on the moor
for if [ had proceeded further, in the di-
rection I had been following [ would have
probably found myself fOundering in the
huge and treacherOus bog called in the
neighborhood Red Milk's Rest. On the
way Larry 0'Harra-fOr such | learned
was the piper's name-gave me much
curious informati1n about the customs of
Hallowmas Eve in that part of Ireland,
and as his account of how the great bog
from which I had narrowly escaped got
its name is germane to my subject, will
give it here.
"Red Mike, your honor, was the only
son of Widow O'Flaherty. He was queer
one from his birth, an no wonder, for he
first saw the light between dusk an dark
O. a Hallowmas Eve. Hereabouts the
people say that if a baby be born on this
night, it runs moighty good chancd O.
bein' possessed by some sproite or other;
it may or may not be true, OHM sure it's
beyOnt the likes O me to say whether soch
things are possible or not, but OF will say
that Mike O'Flaherty was different to
other men from the first. He wOr always
up to some game, he wor, and nivver for
good-leastways I nivver heard O. amy
good he liver did. He lied and broke his
troth to man an woman, an got into bad
odor with priest an magistrate, for nigh
upon twelve years arter he came to man
him. One Hallow Eve he was at the
house o. the Flannigans, up by the Glen
Creachan. He was cOurtin' Mary FIanni-
gan, though livery one on us knew she
didn't care two straws for Red
Mike, but was all aglow VII love for Larry
O'Rourke, the Limerick carrier. It's the
custom IN these parts for the childer to
run into the cabbage yard afore the eve
MIN fun begins, an to pick out number
O. cabbage stalks, an name them arter
any seven O. the folk they have anything
to do with; then, having finished VII this
Flannigan's childer, hayin' finished their
song, ran into the house and asked all the
folk to come out an see their sowle. Ould
Flanagan pulled his cabbage stalk, and
Mrs. Flanagan hers, and young Tim
Flanagan his, and Larry O'Rourke his,
and Mrs. Tim hers, and purity Mary
Flanagan her, until it came to Mike
O'Flaherty's turn. The stalks of all the
others had been clean and white, but
when Rcd Mike pulled up his, it was all
black and foul VII worms an slugs, and
wi real bad smell ahint it. Larry
O'Rourhe laughed, an Mary Flanagan
gIggled, ard the others looked moighty
consarned. Mike glared about him for a
moment, more like a mad bull or hay
thin Turk nor Christian. Then he up an
says: 'Ye may laugh, Larry O'Rourke,
but yell no be laughin' long; ay, ye may
Singer, Mary, but yell be cryin' for man
ny day, when yer lovers below the sod
as he will be before the years out. AS
for you ould Flanagan, you an your son
an and all that belong to ye will have
cause the day when you Knocked Red
Mike, as ye call me. Ye forget I was
born on Hallow Eve! I've the gift O. the
sight, have, and On this day my curse
can blast whatever I choose What more
Red Mike would have said [ don't know,
but at that moment Father O'Connor
came up to where all were stan'in'.
Curses come home to roost,' says he to
O'Flaherty, in starn voich,' 'an' it's you
that'H suffer, Mike, O'Flaherty, an
no one here. Get We gone at once, or I'll
put the word on ye.' I'll go when
I choose, Father O'Connor,' says Red
Mike, surlily. The next moment the
priest drew crucifx from his breast, say
ing to O'Flaherty that even if he wor in
league VII the devil, he could not with
stand that. Mike gave howl iist loike
wild beast, and thin turned and ran
down the glen as fast as he could. Ould
Thady King, the piper (now dead, God
rest his sowlD, wor crossing this moor
that night, and who should he set but
Red Mike dancin' and shoutin' like mad,
an screamin' in mortal fear. Mike!
Miker ould Thady cried; but O'Flaherty
paid no attintion to him, but kept on
screamin', and sometimes shoutin' out,
My time is up! my time Is upI Sudden
ly he bent forrard and rand loike the wind
took one great leap, an disappeared in
the ground as if he had jumped into the
sea. Mothin' more wor ever seen o. Red
Mike, leastwise as a man. And that's
why the great bog yonder is called Red
Mike'e Rest"
A Nice NeighbOrhOOd.