Morning journal and courier., 1889-02-23

! Preservation of the Ancient Celtic Language-A Nights Housing With a Peasant FarnaeT-A Little Incident Qufte Extraordinary in ItseIf-ssFa1th Ell Show Ne More Pow,r Nor Pow. dher ,n Ball!''
 CLoGHMoRE, Ireland, February Il. To the Editor of the JOURNAL AND COURIER: After having traversed wild and winsome Connamara and reached the Atlantic at TO- mantle Clifden, the tourist usually proceeds north by the excellent coast road. A glimpse of the Irish Quakers at Letterfrack, few days stroll at Kylemore (great wood) lake and pass, sight of the famous Pass of Sal ruck, view of the unique scenery of the Killeries, and possibly a trip to the coast of C1ew Bay, may be had. But my immediate destination was the weird islands of Arran; and I found that to reach them without res turning across Connamara to Galway, most wild, rugged and entertaining foot journey through the almost unknown regions of Con- naught, with here and there enjoyment of wondrous coast scenery and always the deep- CT enjoyment of studies of the quaintest, rudest and most hospitable people in the world, were to be my good fortune.
 All the population of Connamara are bi- lingual. The ancient Celtic language is here preserved with the greatest pride; and it is universally spoken in all home, social and even business relations among the peasant ry. English, with startling brogue, is the language of the schools; a necessary though bitterly resented "divarsion." >The younger members of the peasantry are well enough o11 hu% oE {bo o1I
 folk will not tolerate it, at least in strangers presence. Many amusing experiences of this kind were had. After travelling through the extremely we'll cultivated country be- hind Bunewen Bay and Slyne Head, the ex- tremest outreaching of the Connsmara cliffs into the Atlantic, and the most westerly land in Europe, applied for and hospitably re- ceivAd -issh..,s kezsias aisih a peasant far- mer in the charming lake region between Toombeola and Roundstone Bay. The mo- ment the old grsndam of the household set eyes on me and heard my English-spoken words she snapped her thin lips together and climbed into the loft. Pretty soon the old grandfather, returning from the mountains with an armfHl of dead branches, also heard the same and climbed up after her. We could hear them up there under the rafters cooing in their own tongue over their escape like pair of ancient doves. My host and his family, much perturbed by their appa- rent disrespect, climbed after them one by one and argued, protested, threatened. By and by the brave old pair climbed down again, stern, silent, awful.
 'Don't be degradin av us, avicks;" plead ed the host of tie obdurate pair.
 "Hut, tut!-an' yer better in the far-coun- try words than the prayst himsel', so ye arel" followed his good wife indignantly.
 "Heugh!"-and then a volley in Celtic would be the response to all their pacifcato- ry or delusive attempts.
 They bowed. ducked, pulled their fore locks, grimaced, ashamed and set about at piling the peat upon the fire, preparing the repast, and in all kindly offices of entertain msnt; but no ingenuity seemed capable of tempting the stern old souls into admission of consciousness of language that had no business ID Connamara. But after supper l trapped them.
 No peasant in Ireland will accept compen- sation for entertainment. But these simple folk do prize your stories, tales or accounts of the to them wondrous activities of the marvellous outside world; and it is easy to see what charm the old bocoughs, or va grant beggars and story-tellers, once brought to the humble fresides of Erin. sang for them "The Irish Rspparee" and "The Harp and the Shamrock of Old Ireland" the best I could, which was good enough to give rap turous delight here; but could not yet un- loosen the old couples tongue in English. Then as I told them of America, and the younger brood grew restiye, their eyes glis- tening with cumulative hope to some day reach that earthly Alden, they almost fell into cap tivity of protest. For the two old bodies' bones were very old bones and must soon be laid in Irish soil, where they longed to have their kin remain near. At last I stirred them wildly with some dreadful fairy-tales 1 had heard in county Tyrone, and getting the hero of one, famous drinker, hanging ln the devils clutches over bostomless pit of 'right poteen" piteously appealing to the
 clark one" to let him drop into the "swate dew" suddenly asked the old dame if the poor tortured soul WAS wrong to thus cry out. Her sympathy for the bedeviled drunk ard overcame her antipathy to the hated English. With much fire she snorted: "Divil ha'pworthl--divil ha'pworth, the poor craythur!" while the old man val iantly sustained her in g little outburst of his own of, 'sThrue for ye. The poor cray thur! Sure it's no sin if ye can't help itl" Whereupon there was such & roar of laugh- ter in the little cabin at their unwilling be- trayal that before it had subsided the now l thoroughly reused and doughty old pair had climbed though the dark entrance to the loft again. Then from the cavernous retreat came perfect bedlam of querulous objur- gations, climaxed by the appearance of the l old woman's gesticulating fist and trembling | cap-frills at the 1oft-door above, riotously l followed by shrill and forgivable outburst of wrath and blended Celtic and brogue. 1 s'Manim Yea agus wurrahi (My soul to l God and the VirginD but it's shamers ye are.
 Heugh I'm no child O -yisterday. It's a moullen (muley cow) ye'd be maxim wid me
 entirely. Aha. an yell tache yer grand mother to milk the ducks, ye spalpeensl
 Faireer gairh (bitter misfortune) E in the blackguard spache. May the howly inno cents cloud me sowl if iver I blisther me l tongue with the tblack-mouth' words agin- sweet bad luck t'yeI-an' me 8 lone shinadhre (thin, weazened body), an me back bint
 double wid age an dunnus (mischief.) Och
 an willelul"
 "Aisy now, aisy now, acushla agus asthors
 the host; "Arrah, nonsense, an have a oivi tongue an a soft heart for the stranger, like 1 the grees-hough" (warm embers), from hii wife; and sfDon't be cloudin' the karlyee' (pleassnt evening visit) from the children
 with many moro purring and kindly protests
 at last banished the frills and fist. But no
 that old Irish dame's indignant voice. I
 rose and fell upon us there by the brigh
 peat fire until midnight; and pursued m, 1 guilty consciousness like witch~tones born' on complaining blasts from the mountain glens that night through all my troubled dreams.
 An interesting custom of the peasantry which have frequently observed Tn dlner 1 ent parts of Ireland, recalls quite slmlla
 one on the part of the peasantry Of Cuba Often in the latter country, after remaining through the night at the cabin of g sturd