Irish Fairy and Folk Tales (Modern Library Classics)
Language: English
Pages: 400
ISBN: 0812968557
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Gathered by the renowned Irish poet, playwright, and essayist William Butler Yeats, the sixty-five tales and poems in this delightful collection uniquely capture the rich heritage of the Celtic imagination. Filled with legends of village ghosts, fairies, demons, witches, priests, and saints, these stories evoke both tender pathos and lighthearted mirth and embody what Yeats describes as “the very voice of the people, the very pulse of life.”
“The impact of these tales doesn’t stop with Yeats, or Joyce, or Oscar Wilde,” writes Paul Muldoon in his Foreword, “for generations of readers in Ireland and throughout the world have found them flourishing like those persistent fairy thorns.”
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live if I come clear out of this danger — and I’ll marry the girl.” The little gray man came up to him again, and said he to him, “Now, Teigeen,” said he, “you didn’t lift the body when I told you to lift it, and see how you were made to lift it; perhaps when I tell you to bury it you won’t bury it until you’re made to bury it!” “Anything at all that I can do for your honor,” said Teig, “I’ll do it,” for he was getting sense already, and if it had not been for the great fear that was on him, he
with the Merrows, and even in this he succeeded. One tremendous blustering day, before he got to the point whence he had a view of the Merrow’s rock, the storm came on so furiously that Jack was obliged to take shelter in one of the caves which are so numerous along the coast; and there, to his astonishment, he saw sitting before him a thing with green hair, long green teeth, a 125 irish fairy and folk tales red nose, and pig’s eyes. It had a fish’s tail, legs with scales on them, and short
according to the family custom, the coffin was carried to Ballyheigh strand, where it was laid upon the shore, with a prayer for the repose of the dead. The mourners departed, one group after another, and at last Connor Crowe was left alone. He then pulled out his whisky bottle, his drop of comfort, as he 141 irish fairy and folk tales called it, which he required, being in grief; and down he sat upon a big stone that was sheltered by a projecting rock, and partly concealed from view, to await
few except the little man took, or seemed to take, any notice; and no one thought of saying “God bless us.” Billy all this time regarded the poor girl with a most rueful expression of countenance; for he could not help thinking what a terrible thing it was for a nice young girl of nineteen, with large blue eyes, transparent skin, and dimpled cheeks, suffused with health and joy, to be obliged to marry an ugly little bit of a man, who was a thousand years old, barring a day. At this critical
be, with their red caps wagging about at every bound in the moonshine, and so light were these bounds that the lobs of dew, although they trembled under their feet, were not disturbed by their capering. Thus did they carry on their gambols, spinning round and round, and twirling and bobbing and diving, and going through all manner of figures, until one of them chirped out, “Cease, cease, with your drumming, Here’s an end to our mumming; By my smell I can tell A priest this way is coming!” 25
