The Irish standard., 1906-01-13
Tells of the Persistent But Unsuccessful Ef-
forts Of Her Father to Master the
Pronunciation.
Sympathy With the Movement in Which DR..
Hyde is Enlisted Has Created
Lasting Friendship.

"Acushla,' Ooh pulse); "a lama q
grad 60 child o love); "a weenock"
-Nnay this be ban og a young
womam; "a rageal." "a grad geal,"
90 bright love). Who could grow
up with these endearing terms crowd
ing as flowers by the roadside if only
from the mouths OF the yellow wo-
man" or the blind piper" or others Of
the then wonderful crowd of beggars
who waylaid all comcrs to the villages,
without finding a Gaelic heart growing
ul. and also perhaps getting a little in
spi;ltion from the Gaelic in the mat.
ter OF oghs and as impossible to the
Saxon throat. 1t was in the air, as
1t is not now unfortunately. We are
all too grand and too self conscious
now to venture Oh anything but How
do you dol" May the League put an
end to that. false shame AS a child
then. before my fathers return, il
thought at all of the language. it was
but as also thought OF the Catholic
Church, as something quite out Of the
range of people who lived in big
houses. and yet loved the language
and was flercely indignant at the
bigotry Of my Protestant relations
against the Catholics for though the
differences between our religions were
unknown to me, the fear and hatred
of the priests. ETC., shocked me even
before was any age to speak Of
At that time bigotry was extraordt.
nary. 1t is still bad enough but people
have tho grace to be ashamed Of it.
With the return of William Smith
O'Brien to Ireland. when was ten or
eleven years old, n new light began to
shine on my mental path; 1 began to
understand what the people were
thinking; l began to realize that their
Church was not a mere low sect.
began to find out that we were ma
ton with q language and history.
began to know what wonderful articles
country. and even that one of the most
beautiful Of all the finds had been dug
up close to Cahirmoyle, "the Ardagl
Cup" 1t seems to me that even witt.
all my fathers influence only vere
slowly the dark mists Of ignorance as
regards the national history were die
sipated. Very slowly, very imperfect
ly. it came to my knowledge that those
who regarded ancient Ireland as a saw
age country only showed their own ig-
norance and prejudice. Histories that
really interested did not then exist. 1t
was impossible to follow the strings of
strange, long, unmeaning names that
stood for the great legends Of which
no trace was permitted to appear. 1
remember well my mother laughing
and saying If my father had had his
way he would have called his sons
Heber, Heremon, and Ith, and I, stand
ing by, caught these magic words and
wondered. Then came into the house
the Ossianic volumes. Then my
younger brother and entered that
joyful company with Finn and the
beloved Oscar. with Bald Headed
Conane, with Diarmuid of the women
freckled and brown-haired; then we
heard the baying Of Bran and Sgeolaa
in the Glen of the Thrushes; then the
fair woman of the lake put spells on
the great Finn and left him a withered
weak, old man. All! then what did we
need of History? Was not this Ire
land? Was not this our country?
Did we not look out from our own win
dows and see Knock Fierna where the
heroes hunted, and laughed, and played
chess?
All! but we were knocking at the
doors Of the language though we knew
it not. And that language? What
was 1t father was so keen on? What
was it he and old Dan Sheahan used
to be poking over together, out even
ing after evening on the old bare
fort?
How beautiful those summer even-
ings used to be! The picture I, want