Comhaltas Archive

.The CureCaoimhghiil b BrolchainWhen the world and I were youngand I still had a grandfather I was surroundedby wonderment - most of itsupplied by th' oul fella. He had terriblefee t and was murdered by the cornsand bunions and with the hopping fromone foot to the other he couldn't decidewhich hurt him most. "Bhi se sin donago leor" but then he caught a terriblecough that had him thumping his chestbetween the hops, so he decided to gointo Castlecomer to see what thechemist might have.At that time, the rare occasion youmade the journey to town, you got fullvalue - maybe you had a pig to se ll, butyo u had a list of things to get too beforeturning the ass's head towards " an slfabhaile" . Th'oul lad had glass to buyfor a broken window and off he wentup the town hopping and coughing andlathering about him with the ash planthe carried for the sizes of the glass.Country people bothered little withrulers and glass was measured by makinga couple of nicks in an ash plant. Fromthis nick to that was the width and fromthat to the next nick would be thelength.he called to the chemist and then collectedthe glass.First of all he called in to the chemistfor his twin afflictions and then he collectedthe glass. Well between the jigsand the reels, one the way home hebroke the glass, took a good slug out ofthe co rn cure and rubbed the cough medicineon his feet. From that on he wasa changed man. The cough medicinecured the corns and the corn curecleared up the cough and he forgotabout the glass.Perhaps because he had so many animalsabout the place, Granda got thename of being a great hand with the" cures". There was no doubt about it,he Was a wonderful fella to have aroundwhere there were horses, but when itcame to pigs he was out on his own. Hewould take me by the hand up to the"cro na muc" (sty) and give me bits ofcoal to throw to them. I would gaze forhours at the wonderful spectacle ofthem crunching the coal, grunting andhonking and squealing. He loved pigsand often quoted the old Irish proverbto me, " A pig is seven times more stubbornthan a woman, and a woman isseven times more stubborn than thedivil himself." I laughed then, but myfather thought it the highest wisdomand said that no man could live so longwithout gathering knowledge.Once a woman came carrying a Pekinesein her arms. She talked to it andpetted it and fed it titbits all the time .Her poor darling, she said, wasn't feelinghimself. He was out-of-sorts and wouldn'teat. The most he could manage wasa little lightly done chicken. Wasn't itterrible, she asked, and would grandaplease try to do something for him becausehe had the reputation for beingwonderful with animals and fowl - andpigs?"took a good slug of the corn cure"Granda muttered something about itbeing a terrible state of things surely, -almost as terrible as a dog being treatedbetter than a Christian, - but thewoman didn't hear him, for he wastaking snuff at the time and he had hishand over his mouth. He reached out tostroke the dog - in politeness - and thedog bit him, and the woman said what anaughty dog it was, forgetting itsmanners like that.Anyway, she left the dog and went'away with many a backward glance.Without a word, my Granda gazed atthe animal for a while, then he bentdown and picked it up by the loose skinat the back of its neck. Turning on hisheel, he went up to the sty and threw itin amongst the pigs. Well, the dog hadto step lively, I can tell you, for the pigsshowed every sign of being as keen on abit of Pekinese as on a bit of coal. Mindyou, the dog was wonderful how he wasable to gallop round the sty dodging thesnapping jaws. You could see the exercisewas doing him good by the minute.He stayed there for a fortnight or so,and if he was hungry, he had to bequicker than the pigs to the trough. Isaw him meet a mouldy crust in mid-airthree feet ofF the ground, and give a35