{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_75537/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_75537","id":"gutenberg_75537","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/75537","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Historical Novels","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Patrick, Saint, 373?-463? -- Legends"],"text":"WURRA-WURRA\n\n[Illustration: GROTTO AND IMAGE OF WURRA-WURRA\n\nDrawn by John Innes, from his reconstruction of this very ancient Celtic\nIdol, as described in the Legend.]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n                               WURRA-WURRA\n\n                            A LEGEND OF SAINT\n                             PATRICK AT TARA\n\n                   HERE FIRST TRANSCRIBED AND COMPARED\n                  WITH THE TESTIMONY OF ANCIENT RECORDS\n                      AND MODERN HISTORICAL RESEARCH\n\n                            _By_ CURTIS DUNHAM\n                   AUTHOR OF \u201cTHE GOLDEN GOBLIN,\u201d ETC.\n\n              WITH ILLUSTRATIONS, INCLUDING A RECONSTRUCTION\n                           OF THE VERY ANCIENT\n                      CELTIC IDOL CALLED WURRA-WURRA\n\n                             _By_ JOHN INNES\n\n                                 NEW YORK\n                         DESMOND FITZGERALD, INC.\n                                PUBLISHERS]\n\n\n\n\n                             COPYRIGHT, 1911,\n                       BY DESMOND FITZGERALD, INC.\n\n\n\n\n                           TO THOSE DESCENDANTS\n                    OF THE O\u2019SHAUGHNESSY WHO PRESERVED\n                   THIS LEGEND OF ST. PATRICK AT TARA;\n                  TO THE MEMORY OF FATHER O\u2019SHAUGHNESSY,\n                  FROM WHOM IT WAS RECEIVED ORALLY; AND\n                      TO THE ANTI-WORRY SOCIETIES OF\n                       CHRISTENDOM, THIS TRANSCRIPT\n                        IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED\n\n\n\n\nFULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n  Grotto and Image of Wurra-Wurra                            _Frontispiece_\n\n                                                              _Facing page_\n\n  Patrick casting down Cromm Cruach and the twelve smaller idols        12\n\n  Keth, Patrick\u2019s Strong Man, describing to Finola the virtues of\n    his handstone                                                       20\n\n  Keth Mac Maragh in the bog, beset by the wizard spells of Lochru      38\n\n  Keth recites the Brehon Law to Dubthach Mac na Lugair and his debtor  44\n\n  Dubthach, the Royal Shanachy, driving home the price of his poems     48\n\n  Far down Glanngalt Keth sees the torches flaming about the Grotto\n    of Wurra-Wurra                                                      52\n\n  With his mighty handstone, defying Lochru, Keth shatters the idol\n    Wurra-Wurra                                                         62\n\n  Finola runs to Keth and delivers an urgent message from Patrick       64\n\n  Keth, in the shattered idol\u2019s place, hears Finola\u2019s great worry       76\n\n  Patrick marries and blesses Keth and Finola of the White Shoulder     78\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\u2019Twas in the days whin the good Patrick of Armagh slept with wan eye\nopen, owin\u2019 to the murderous desire of a bunch of haythin magicians to\nhang onto their jobs at the court of King Laeghaire. There was the chief\nroyal wizard, Lochru by name, an\u2019 two other divil-sint Druid priests,\nnamely Caplait an\u2019 Lucat-Moel, who hild the graft of makin\u2019 wise\nhaythins of Ethne the Fair an\u2019 Fedelm the Ruddy, the King\u2019s two daughters\nan\u2019 the twin apples of his eye; an\u2019 between the three of thim, with the\nKing lookin\u2019 their way wan day an\u2019 Patrick\u2019s way the next, the spells of\nwind an\u2019 water an\u2019 black magic the good Patrick had to circumvint were\nsure a caution.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNow Patrick, bein\u2019 a gintleman and the guest of King Laeghaire at Tara,\ncould not turn himself loose on mimbers of the King\u2019s own household. All\nthe same, if he was to clane up Ireland, Druids, snakes an\u2019 all, \u2019twas\nimportant to begin by convertin\u2019 the King. So he was goin\u2019 easy like, wan\nday miltin\u2019 Laeghaire to tears with his iloquence, an\u2019 alas! the nixt day\nfindin\u2019 the King bowin\u2019 down to the great gold an\u2019 silver idol, Cromm\nCruach, which stood on the plain near Tara surrounded by twilve smaller\nidols of brass an\u2019 tin. \u2019Twas a case of Cromm Cruach against Patrick an\u2019\nthe Four Gospils with the odds even.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWan thing was plain, Cromm Cruach the big idol, an\u2019 all the little idols\nmust go. So wan day, in the prisence of King Laeghaire an\u2019 all his\nhousehold an\u2019 a great multitude of the people, Patrick raised his staff\nbefore Cromm Cruach, an\u2019 in the twinklin\u2019 of an eye the big idol an\u2019 all\nthe little idols sank into the plain up to their necks. \u2019Twas a miracle\nthe like of which had niver been seen in Ireland. An\u2019 King Laeghaire,\nseein\u2019 that all the spells of his Druid magicians could not raise up\nCromm Cruach again, nor even the smallest of the little idols, became a\nChristian on the spot.\n\nObservin\u2019 the same, old Lochru the wizard fell to ragin\u2019 an\u2019 tearin\u2019 out\nhis long whiskers by handfuls. Caplait an\u2019 Lucat-Moel were frothin\u2019 at\nthe mouth because of their fat jobs gone a-glimmerin\u2019. \u2019Twas a great day\nfor the good Patrick, barrin\u2019 the prisint failure of the multitude to\nfollow the example of the King.\n\n[Illustration: _Patrick casting down Cromm Cruach and the twelve smaller\nidols_]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nInstead of fallin\u2019 on their knees to receive the blissin\u2019 of Patrick as\nhe stood there with Sechnall his bishop, Erc his judge, an\u2019 Presbiter\nBescna his chaplain, all in their church vestmints, the people turned\ntheir faces to the West as wan man, beat upon their brists an\u2019 cried\nout: \u201cO, Wurra-Wurra!\u201d In their mixture of ancient Irish an\u2019 Gaelic\n(which was the common speech in those days), three times they cried: \u201cO,\nWurra-Wurra!\u201d before they would let Patrick bliss an\u2019 disperse thim.\n\nNow there was in Patrick\u2019s train Keth Mac Maragh, his strong man, the\nsame that carried him on his back through the bogs an\u2019 was his champion\nwhin it came to fightin\u2019 barbarians who would not accept the Gospil with\nwhole heads. Keth was moreover a bit of a shanachy, or story-teller,\nin his way, with a head full of the old tales an\u2019 histories set down\nin the Book of the Dun Cow, which made him the frind of ivery small\nboy wheriver Patrick carried on the good work. So whin he heard the\nmultitude cry out: \u201cO, Wurra-Wurra!\u201d at the downfall of Cromm Cruach,\nKeth was disturbed in his mind. Niver before had he heard those words\nof lamentation uttered by a multitude all in spontaneous accord. Yet in\nthe mouths of sorrowin\u2019 girls forsaken by their lovers, an\u2019 old women\nat a wake or grievin\u2019 over sheep with the foot-rot, they were words as\nfamiliar in Patrick\u2019s time as they are to this day.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nBut the thing that most disturbed the mind of Keth Mac Maragh was\nthe sight of Finola of the White Shoulder, wan of Patrick\u2019s three\nembroideresses\u2014which means a Christian mimber of Patrick\u2019s own\nhousehold\u2014turnin\u2019 her pretty face to the West with the multitude an\u2019\njoinin\u2019 in the cry of \u201cWurra-Wurra!\u201d \u2019Twas sure a haythin act, an\u2019 as\nKeth had been for a long time swate on this same Finola, findin\u2019 her\nwhite shoulder a plisant place to rist his head on, he wint speedily an\u2019\ntaxed her with it.\n\nBut Finola only hung her pretty head an\u2019 was silent.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cFinola,\u201d says Keth, \u201cye ought to be ashamed of yoursilf, you a mimber of\nthe good Patrick\u2019s household an\u2019 a \u2019broiderer of the sacred vestmints.\u201d\n\nNiver a word answered Finola, but only hung her head the lower.\n\nThen said Keth Mac Maragh with a keen look at the girl:\n\n\u201cFinola, \u2019tis yoursilf has told the truth though not a word has passed\nyour lips. Cromm Cruach, which our good Patrick has overthrown, was not\nthe only great false god in Ireland.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNow the girl appeared startled, but her head still drooped an\u2019 she\nanswered neither yes nor no. With a smile half hid by the hair on his\nlip, Keth spoke sternly to her:\n\n\u201cFinola, I have it from your own lips that you came to Patrick at Tara\nfrom your people over in the West country. \u2019Tis over in the West stands\nanother great idol, an\u2019 the name of it is Wurra-Wurra.\u201d\n\nAt these words Finola began trimbling violently, though she spoke no\nword, an\u2019 her head still drooped. Keth Mac Maragh showed the girl no\nmercy.\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis in my mind, Finola,\u201d he said, \u201cto make a journey over into the West\ncountry, an\u2019 find this heathen god, Wurra-Wurra, an\u2019 cast him down even\nas Patrick cast down Cromm Cruach.\u201d\n\nNow the girl lifted her head and spoke up quickly: \u201cBut you are not in\norders, Keth, an\u2019 have no Bishop\u2019s staff to raise against this idol\u2014if\nso there be one.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis true I have no Bishop\u2019s staff,\u201d said he, \u201cnor do I nade wan. I have\nme handstone. I have me handstone, the same that did for Macc Cairthinn,\nmind ye, Finola. An\u2019 \u2019tis in me mind that the handstone that spilled the\nbrains of the King\u2019s strong man is enough to bash the countenance of a\nhaythin idol.\u201d\n\nAnd he took the stone out of his shield to gaze on its fine shape and\nfeel the weight of it. \u201c\u2019Twas a smaller wan,\u201d he said, \u201ca mere stone from\nthe brook with no virtue whativer, that David sunk into the forehead of\nGoliath.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs it the same,\u201d whispered Finola with awe in her eyes, \u201cthat gave ye\nthe triumph over Macc Cairthinn?\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Keth, Patrick\u2019s Strong Man, describing to Finola the\nvirtues of his handstone_]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis a better wan,\u201d spoke up Keth Mac Maragh proudly. \u201c\u2019Tis of\nfresh-slaked lime mixed with those same brains of the King\u2019s strong man\nthat I spilled with the old wan\u2014mixed with Macc Cairthinn\u2019s own brains\nan\u2019 dried in the sun till it has the hardness of flint an\u2019 the toughness\nof oak. Besides\u2014mark this, Finola\u2014\u2019tis a true handstone with all the\nvirtues of me own Red Branch Knighthood. An\u2019 who can throw it fairer or\nswifter than Keth Mac Maragh?\u201d\n\nAt these words Finola turned strangely pale. Prisently she threw her arms\nabout the neck of Keth an\u2019 besought him not to journey off into that wild\nWest country.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cKeth, darlin\u2019,\u201d said she, \u201c\u2019tis the country of the Badb an\u2019 all the\nDedannan furies, where the terrible Banshees are only the least of\nthe bad fairies. They will have your body an\u2019 your soul.\u201d An\u2019 then she\nwhispered:\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cStay with Finola. She nades ye, an\u2019\u2014an\u2019 soon she\u2019ll nade ye sore!\u201d\n\nNow Keth was touched with the tears of Finola, but he was an obstinate\nman an\u2019 his mind was made up to have it for his own great triumph and\ncredit with Patrick, the castin\u2019 down of Wurra-Wurra. \u2019Twas true also\nthat he had become a trifle weary of the white arms of Finola forever\ndraggin\u2019 about his neck. So he threw them off gintly, lavin\u2019 her there\non the ground half dead with grievin\u2019, an\u2019 wint straight to Patrick for\nlave to go on a journey on business of his own.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe good Patrick, bein\u2019 easy in his mind an\u2019 cheerful now that Cromm\nCruach was done for, gave Keth his lave an\u2019 a blissin\u2019; an\u2019 lest Finola\u2019s\narms should drag at his neck again, he did not delay, but took his shield\nan\u2019 his handstone an\u2019 was off on his long legs for the West country.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIndade, \u2019twas well he did not loiter, for the old wizard Lochru had\nalready got wind of his interprise an\u2019 was brewin\u2019 his most divilish\nspells against him. Caplait was in the same business. \u2019Twas a close\ncall for Keth Mac Maragh, for between thim these two howlin\u2019 old wizards\nbossed all the bad fairies an\u2019 demons an\u2019 reptiles in Ireland.\n\nAll this, mind ye, was before Patrick had got ready to attind to the\nsnakes. The land was full of thim. As for fairies, good an\u2019 bad, at the\ntime whin the good Patrick landed at Wicklow they were thicker than the\npeople\u2014which is worth raymimberin\u2019, for there were tin times as many\nIrishmin in Ireland then than iver has been since. In those days \u2019twas a\ncase of Ireland for the Irish, with the rist of the world lookin\u2019 on in\nenvy an\u2019 covetousness, but takin\u2019 care to kape their hands off to save\ntheir heads.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThere was no nade for Keth to carry meat or drink\u2014which was another\nfine thing about Ireland in those days. At ivery crossroads was an inn\nmaintained at the public expinse, for the intertainmint of travellers\nwithout money an\u2019 without price, an\u2019 the pot always a-bilin\u2019 day an\u2019\nnight. \u2019Twas the shanachies an\u2019 poets who travelled about thicker than\nthieves, singin\u2019 their songs an\u2019 tellin\u2019 their tales at the courts of\nthe kings, that were the cause of all this hospitality, for these\ngentry put on even more airs in those days than they do now, havin\u2019 free\ngraft iverywhere, so eager were the people to hear all the news an\u2019 the\nromances.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u2019Tis already towld how Keth was a bit of a shanachy himsilf, an\u2019 well\nversed in all the wizardry of Patrick\u2019s Druid inemies. \u2019Twas a full grown\nman\u2019s job, by this token, that old Lochru took on himsilf in layin\u2019 his\nplans to save Wurra-Wurra from the vi\u2019lint hands of Patrick\u2019s strong man.\nAn\u2019 \u2019twill iver be to the credit of Lochru\u2019s divilish subtlety that he so\nnear finished for poor Keth by transformin\u2019 himsilf into a false shanachy\nan\u2019 tacklin\u2019 the lad on his soft side.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThrough County Armagh an\u2019 well into Fermanagh Keth Mac Maragh passed\nsafely, livin\u2019 free on the fat of the land an\u2019 kapin\u2019 an eye opin for\nsigns of the old idol Wurra-Wurra. \u2019Tis true that wance Lochru tried to\nbeguile him with a venomous banshee in the guise of a beautiful maiden\nall smiles an improper alluremints; but Finola\u2019s white shoulder was still\nso fresh in his mind that he only laughed an\u2019 bid her the time of day an\u2019\npassed on his way.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWance, too, Lochru sint a swarm of sheevras\u2014which are the most impish of\nall the bad fairies\u2014with orders to choke Keth to death on salmon bones\nas he ate his avenin\u2019 meal; but \u2019twas all in vain, for Keth was wise an\u2019\nkept his fingers crossed.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHavin\u2019 seen the failure of these poor experimints, Lochru changed his\nface out of all raysimblance to himsilf, an\u2019 took a small Irish harp an\u2019\nwint an\u2019 sat on a hillside among the shamrocks close beside the broad\nroad along which he knew Keth was soon to pass. This was his preparation\nfor the grand schame that was to hocus-pocus the idol-hunting strong man\nfor good an\u2019 all.\n\nPrisintly, as Keth Mac Maragh hove in sight, all tired and dusty from a\nhard day of travel, Lochru, in his guise of an old an\u2019 decrepit shanachy,\ntwanged the strings of his harp an\u2019 began to sing of past glories whin\nhe was royal shanachy at Tara with four an\u2019 twinty pupils all sheddin\u2019\nlustre on his performance. But whin Keth came abrist of him on the road\nhe lifted his voice in a sort of refrain, the substince of which caused\nPatrick\u2019s strong man to prick up his ears an\u2019 pinch himsilf to be sure he\nwas indade awake. For this was the unexpicted purport of Lochru\u2019s refrain:\n\n    \u201cHail the dawn of Erin\u2019s Golden Age,\n    Redeemed from Druids\u2019 evil signs and spells.\n    Rejoice at ancient idols overthrown\n    And demons banished to their flames below.\n    Cromm Cruach\u2019s head doth bow to Patrick\u2019s power;\n    Great Laeghaire takes the Gospel to his heart;\n    No more shall idols lure the simple mind\u2014\n    E\u2019en Wurra-Wurra\u2019s fatal hour has struck.\n        Hail Erin\u2019s Golden Age,\n        Hail Patrick and the Blissed Word!\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAn\u2019 no sooner had the schamin\u2019 Lochru in his disguise exprissed these\nfine Christian sintimints than Keth fell for him. Yis, Keth Mac Maragh\nfell for him complately\u2014swallowin\u2019 bait, hook, line an\u2019 all.\n\nOld Lochru, pretindin\u2019 not to observe the prisince of the lad, was about\nto reel off a few more yards of his song, but Keth fell on his neck,\nsayin\u2019:\n\n\u201cHiven\u2019s blessin\u2019s rist on ye, old man; for \u2019tis indade true, as ye\u2019ve\nsaid, that Wurra-Wurra\u2019s fatal hour has struck. Tell me where to look for\nthe owld idol that I may bash his face with me handstone.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo me eyes desayve me?\u201d said the false shanachy, returnin\u2019 Keth\u2019s\nembrace. \u201cNo; sure \u2019tis the good Patrick\u2019s strong man that stands before\nme\u2014Keth Mac Maragh, who, wan day, will be a bishop.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis the same,\u201d said Keth, swellin\u2019 with pride at the wizard\u2019s\nprophecy\u2014for that was Keth\u2019s great saycrit ambition, to become a bishop.\nAn\u2019 now Lochru had him hard an\u2019 fast. No suspicion of the false shanachy\ncould have been beaten into his head with an axe.\n\n\u201cBut the time passes,\u201d said Keth; \u201cshow me the road to Wurra-Wurra, that\nI may speedily earn me bishop\u2019s staff.\u201d\n\nLochru was playin\u2019 with the lad as a cat plays with a mouse. \u201cHave ye no\nfear of the druid wizards?\u201d he said. \u201cCan ye circumvint the spells of\nLochru? Are ye after thinkin\u2019 that Lucat-Moel an\u2019 Caplait will let ye\ncome at Wurra-Wurra to do the idol harm?\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cDivil take the wizards an\u2019 all their spells,\u201d answered Keth. \u201cSure,\n\u2019tis Keth Mac Maragh, champion strong man an\u2019 as good a scholar as the\nbist of thim, that has all their spells at his finger-ends. So set me on\nthe road to Wurra-Wurra.\u201d\n\n\u201cBe it so,\u201d said Lochru. \u201cI persayve that ye\u2019re already a bishop, savin\u2019\nthe ordination. \u2019Tis well. Give heed to me words, for \u2019tis growin\u2019 dark\nan\u2019 ye must travil the night through to escape the sure destruction which\nLochru has prepared for ye.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cPriss on your prisint way, lad, till ye\u2019ve rached the top of the third\nwooded ridge. There ye\u2019ll see below ye in the moonlight the glimmerin\u2019\nsurface of a great bog, an\u2019 on the farther side of the same an owld round\ntower to the right, an\u2019 Concobar Mac Nessa\u2019s ruined castle to the lift.\nGo straight down to the edge of the bog an\u2019 suddenly ye\u2019ll see that a\nfine, hard road leads across it. Cross the bog without fear. \u2019Tis a short\ncut to Wurra-Wurra over beyond the round tower, an\u2019 \u2019twill lave ye safe\nfrom Lochru an\u2019 all his demon immissaries. Have ye me directions fixed\nclear in your mind, lad?\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cYis,\u201d said Keth. \u201cAn\u2019 may the blissin\u2019s of Patrick an\u2019 all the saints\nrest on your white head, vinerable owld man, for, thanks to you,\nWurra-Wurra is already as good as done for.\u201d\n\nThe nixt minute Keth\u2019s legs were leadin\u2019 him straight into the trap so\ncunningly set for him, an\u2019 old Lochru, raysumin\u2019 his own face an\u2019 form,\nwas chucklin\u2019 into his long whiskers.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNow whin Keth came to the top of the third ridge an\u2019 looked down upon the\ngreat bog, \u2019twas the darkest hour of the night, whin the bad fairies are\nup to their worst divilmint, an\u2019 the dangerous elves an\u2019 demons attind\nto the summons of their masters, the Druid wizards. From the top of the\nridge there was no sign of any road across the bog; but Keth, full of\nfoolish faith in the words of the false shanachy, stopped only to draw a\nfull breath, an\u2019 was off down the slope at his top speed.\n\nAn\u2019 sure enough, as he neared the bog\u2019s edge, he saw before him a\nstraight, hard road gleamin\u2019 in the moonlight an\u2019 stretchin\u2019 clear an\u2019\nfair to the hill-slope on the farther side. With a shout of triumph, Keth\nlaped forward an\u2019 ran swiftly out upon the road over the bog. An\u2019 thin,\nall at wance, there was no more road, an\u2019 he found himsilf flounderin\u2019 up\nto his arm-pits in the quaking mud of the stickiest bog in Ireland.\n\nAn\u2019 while he floundered he heard a peal of faymiliar, divilish laughter\nfrom the bog\u2019s edge. There stood old Lochru, holdin\u2019 his sides an\u2019\nwaggin\u2019 his head\u2014an\u2019 thin, in a flash, Keth saw it all, how he had been\nhocus-pocussed by a false shanachy who was none other than Lochru himsilf.\n\n\u2019Twas useless to waste breath lamintin\u2019, or hurlin\u2019 hard names at Lochru;\nKeth saw that he had nade of it all to extricate himsilf from the\nbog\u2014which he would have done right speedily but for the trump card the\nold wizard played thin an\u2019 there.\n\nAll at wance Keth found himsilf surrounded by a swarm of meisi\u2014which are\nthe most dreadful phantoms that inhabit the World of Darkness\u2014summoned by\nthe incantations of Lochru. The sight of thim froze Keth\u2019s blood in his\nveins. For a time, so full of terror they filled him, he could nayther\nspeak nor move. Manewhile, ivery minute the bog sucked him down deeper.\n\n[Illustration: _Keth Mac Maragh in the bog, beset by the wizard spells of\nLochru_]\n\nSure it would have been all over with Keth Mac Maragh if, suddenly, there\nhad not appeared before him a vision of Patrick, fearless in his great\nfaith, casting down Cromm Cruach in the very prisince of King Laeghaire\nan\u2019 the most powerful of the Druid wizards. The vision gave him strength\nto raise his voice to the glory of God an\u2019 defiance of the divil, so that\nhe no longer quaked with paralizin\u2019 fear of the phantoms, an\u2019 was near\nstrugglin\u2019 out of the bog.\n\nThin it was that Lochru summoned Banba, queen of the Dedannan furies,\nan\u2019 with her diabolical aid caused Keth to be set upon by sheevras,\nleprechauns an\u2019 all manner of demoniac reptiles. All the bog about him\nwas covered with thim, an\u2019 all the air murmured and shrieked with the\nflapping of demon wings. Pookas came and sat upon his shoulders to priss\nhim down into the mire, while the dread Badb, in the guise of a loathsome\nhag with the wings of a great bat, shut the air from his nostrils and\nclawed at his throat.\n\nYet always, at what seemed the fatal momint, the voice of Keth, raised in\npraise of God an\u2019 bowld defiance of the divil, so weakened the demoniac\npowers that old Lochru, raging in vain, saw the dawn approaching an\u2019 his\ntriumph unaccomplished.\n\nIndade, the triumph was Keth\u2019s, for, by the blissin\u2019 of heaven, he hild\nout. In fear of the blastin\u2019 rays of the sun, all at wance his demon\ninemies disappeared with shrieks of baffled vengeance, an\u2019 old Lochru\nwith thim. An\u2019 soon Keth, still praisin\u2019 God an\u2019 defyin\u2019 the divil, was\nout of the bog an\u2019 dryin\u2019 himsilf in the sun.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhin he was dry an\u2019 somewhat risted an\u2019 raycuperated after the long\nagonies of that night, he retraced his steps to the road where Lochru had\nbeguiled him. Wan day an\u2019 a night he spint at an inn for food an\u2019 slape,\nwhile the maids claned the bog slime from his raimint, an\u2019 thin proceeded\non his way into the West.\n\nNot until he was out of Fermanagh an\u2019 well into Roscommon did he come\nupon any clue to the whereabouts of Wurra-Wurra. \u2019Twas truly strange\nthat the right direction should come from another shanachy\u2014but a rale wan\nthis time, none other than the great Dubthach Mac na Lugair, royal poet\nat the court of the King of Connaught.\n\nKeth came upon Dubthach as the renowned shanachy was fastin\u2019 on a false\npoet who owed him a debt for makin\u2019 up some rhymes which the false poet\nrecited about the country as his own divine afflatus. This fakir was a\nfailure at bog-drainin\u2019 named Fergus, an\u2019 havin\u2019 neglected to pay for the\nrhymes he couldn\u2019t make up for himself he was shut up in his house while\nDubthach sat before his door, neither of thim eatin\u2019 nor drinkin\u2019, as the\ncustom was, till the matter was settled. Dubthach was so pale an\u2019 lean\nfrom four days an\u2019 nights of fastin\u2019 that his tunic was all in wrinkles\nabout his shoulders. Fergus\u2019 plight was worse yet, for as he sat by his\nopen window with his head in his hand he seemed only half alive. Still\nivery time Dubthach braced up an\u2019 called on him to pay the debt he came\nback with a sharp answer.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis four geese an\u2019 a sheep ye owe me,\u201d said Dubthach, as Keth came up.\n\n\u201cYe\u2019re a liar. \u2019Tis three geese an\u2019 a pig,\u201d said Fergus.\n\n\u201cThe law is with me, I\u2019ll starve the heart out of ye,\u201d said Dubthach.\n\n\u201cYer rhymes were no good, they stuck in me throat,\u201d said Fergus. \u201cBut\nI\u2019ll pay ye the three geese an\u2019 the pig\u2014or see yer bones litterin\u2019 me\ndoorstep.\u201d\n\nRight here Keth stepped in, havin\u2019 great wisdom in such matters. After\nhearin\u2019 both sides he recited to \u2019em the Brehon law, an\u2019 then he said:\n\n\u201cThe both of ye are in the wrong. Fergus, what ye owe to Dubthach is not\nfour geese an\u2019 a sheep, but four geese an\u2019 a pig.\u201d\n\nHearin\u2019 this wise judgmint, Dubthach an\u2019 Fergus scowled fiercely at each\nother; but \u2019twas plain their jaws were achin\u2019 to come together on a\nflitch o\u2019 bacon, an\u2019 so Dubthach spoke up:\n\n\u201cNiver shall it be told of me,\u201d he said, \u201cthat I refused to mate an inemy\nhalf way. Fergus, ye omadhune, open the door of your hovel an\u2019 let out\nthe four geese an\u2019 the pig.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Keth recites the Brehon Law to Dubthach Mac na Lugair and\nhis debtor_]\n\nWhich the same Fergus did, with a string tied to the leg of each of \u2019em\nfor Dubthach to drive \u2019em home with. An\u2019 Dubthach, with the pig an\u2019 the\nfour geese safe in hand, turned an\u2019 howled back at Fergus:\n\n\u201cAs I\u2019m lavin\u2019 your dirty doorstep, ye double-faced falsifier, wan\nword of advice: Lave off graftin\u2019 on your betters an\u2019 get back to your\nbog-drainin\u2019.\u201d To Keth Mac Maragh who walked beside him he said:\n\n\u201cNiver mintion it to Fergus, but ye\u2019ve done me a service this day. Faith,\nI was that far gone with the fast I could feel me backbone through me\nstomach! An\u2019 now me good frind tell me how I can square the account\nbetween the two of us. Will ye take two geese, or the pig?\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNow, bein\u2019 well on into the West country, with maybe the great god\nWurra-Wurra just around the turn of the nixt peat bog, Keth felt it was\na time to exercise discretion, for the lad was as wise an\u2019 cunning as he\nwas strong an\u2019 mighty at heavin\u2019 the handstone. So he reflected and made\nthis answer to Dubthach:\n\n\u201cDubthach Mac na Lugair,\u201d he said, \u201cthe service ye say I\u2019ve the honor of\nrenderin\u2019 ye was no more than would be the duty of any man who knew the\nlaw. Ye owe me nothin\u2019. But \u2019tis in me mind that ye could give me a bit\nof advice on a private matter, an\u2019 let it go no further?\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cOn me honor as a royal shanachy,\u201d said Dubthach. \u201cGood frind, name your\ntrouble.\u201d\n\n\u201cDubthach,\u201d said Keth, with his hand beside his mouth an\u2019 his mouth\nto the poet\u2019s ear, \u201cDubthach, I\u2019ve a great weight on me mind an\u2019 me\nheart. The heft of it is draggin\u2019 me down in the dirt. Night an\u2019 day I\u2019m\nsorrowin\u2019 an\u2019 grievin\u2019 the heart out of me. \u2019Tis turnin\u2019 me hair an\u2019\nloosenin\u2019 me teeth. It turns me food bitter in me mouth an\u2019 the best\nmetheglin sour in me throat. I can nayther slape nor stay awake. Unless I\nfind relafe, in another day the wits will be clane gone out of me.\n\n\u201cIverything I\u2019ve tried, an\u2019 no use at all at all. Sure I\u2019ve been atin\u2019\nthe cresses an\u2019 drinkin\u2019 the crazy people\u2019s water of Tobernagalt an\u2019\nStroove Bran, but divil the bit of forgetfulness of me trouble did it\nbring me. Wan more day, good Dubthach, an\u2019 I\u2019ll be a foolish, ravin\u2019 loon\nwith all this sore grafe an\u2019 worry\u201d\u2014\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cHold, me frind, \u2019tis enough,\u201d broke in Dubthach. \u201cAn\u2019 ye\u2019ve struck\nthe right road at last. By nightfall ye\u2019ll rache the nixt valley. \u2019Tis\ncalled Glanngalt, mind ye (manin\u2019 in the Gaelic the glen of the galts,\nor loonatics), an\u2019 at the bottom of the same ye\u2019ll come to the grotto of\nWurra-Wurra, our blissed God of Peaceful Souls. Ye\u2019ve only to make the\nthree prostrations an\u2019 whisper your troubles into the blissed ear of\nWurra-Wurra an\u2019 they\u2019ll all fall from ye, lavin\u2019 ye clane an\u2019 paceful an\u2019\nin your right mind.\u201d\n\nAt these words Keth fell on his knees an\u2019 kissed the hand of Dubthach\nthat was not busy with the geese an\u2019 the pig, showin\u2019 the joy an\u2019\ngratitude he sacretly felt for bein\u2019 put on the right track to come up\nwith an\u2019 bash the face of this haythin idol Wurra-Wurra. Then he rose an\u2019\nsaid:\n\n\u201cWan thing more, good Dubthach. Will ye find me a guide down Glanngalt to\nthe grotto of Wurra-Wurra?\u201d\n\n\u201cYe\u2019ll find a hundred of your own choice,\u201d said Dubthach. \u201cYe\u2019ve only\nto enter the valley an\u2019 goin\u2019 down on wan side ye\u2019ll see a string of\nwild-eyed, sorrowin\u2019 loonatics like yersilf\u2014which ye\u2019ve but to join\u2014an\u2019\ncomin\u2019 up on the other side ye\u2019ll see another string dancin\u2019 an\u2019 singin\u2019\nwith joy because of the worries they lift in the grotto behind thim.\nStick to the loonatics goin\u2019 down, an\u2019 on the word of Dubthach ye\u2019ll come\nback dancin\u2019 an\u2019 singin\u2019 with the happy wans.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Dubthach, the Royal Shanachy, driving home the price of\nhis poems_]\n\nSo now Keth Mac Maragh fell on the neck of Dubthach Mac na Lugair an\u2019\nembraced him, an\u2019 thin wint on his way at so swift a gait that the early\navenin\u2019 brought him safe into Glanngalt. \u2019Twas as Dubthach had said:\nthere was the string of sorrowin\u2019 min and women goin\u2019 down on the wan\nside an\u2019 the happy dancin\u2019 people comin\u2019 up on the other. An\u2019 Keth wint\nwith the loonatics, an\u2019 by dark they came to the grotto of Wurra-Wurra\nthat was to be seen from afar by the light of torches that flamed all\nabout it.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSure it was a grand sight\u2014barrin\u2019 the haythin purpose of it all. The poor\nloonatics stopped their screechin\u2019 from the moment the torches revealed\nto thim the smilin\u2019 face of the idol, which shone from out the arch of\nthe grotto entrance like the moon whin \u2019tis full at harvest time. An\u2019\nprisintly the first of the loonatics to prostrate thimsilves at the feet\nof Wurra-Wurra were passin\u2019 over to the other side, singin\u2019 an\u2019 dancin\u2019,\nwith niver a fear nor a care to worry thim.\n\nBefore dawn \u2019twas the same with the whole bunch. With the cobwebs brushed\nclane out of the brains of thim, they were on their way rejoicin\u2019, lavin\u2019\nKeth Mac Maragh alone before the idol, fingerin\u2019 his handstone an\u2019\nwonderin\u2019 what manner of spell was on him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration: _Far down Glanngalt Keth sees the torches flaming about\nthe Grotto of Wurra-Wurra_]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFor three times Keth had raised his hand to hurl the stone, and could\nnot. The spirit was with him, but the flesh was not. The strength had\ngone out of his arm intirely, an\u2019 the fingers that held the handstone had\nno more grip in thim than the little white wans of Finola.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis Lucat-Moel, or old Lochru, divil take him!\u201d said Keth to himself.\n\nHe gazed about in ivery direction, but niver a wizard nor any of their\nbad fairy hilpers was about the premises. Yet the arm that hild the\nhandstone still hung limp at his side, an\u2019 his trimblin\u2019 fingers could\nscarce bear the weight of it.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNow it began to pinetrate the mind of Keth Mac Maragh that while his\narm was as heavy as lead, the soul within him was lighter than for many\na day. A horrible fear rose within him that the Four Gospils had lost\ntheir grip on him, an\u2019 it was the same with him as with the rist of the\nloonatics! With the sweat standin\u2019 on his brow, he said a Latin prayer,\nan\u2019 thin muttered to himsilf:\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cI will put a curse on the haythin idol. I will curse this Wurra-Wurra as\nniver haythin idol was cursed before, so that his face will grow dull\nwith fear an\u2019 the strength return to me arm.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAn\u2019 he turned to curse Wurra-Wurra. \u2019Twas now, for the first time, he saw\nthe opin ears of the idol that listened day an\u2019 night for the gintlist\nwhisper of troubles of man or woman, to take the same on himsilf\u2014an\u2019 thin\nKeth filt the full power of him. The curse died on his lips, all desire\nof curses wint out of his heart. Keth Mac Maragh, Strong Man to the good\nPatrick that was to become a blissed saint, leaned upon his shield an\u2019\ngazed long on the image that filled the grotto. An\u2019 while he gazed the\nsoul of him drank its fill of peace and forgetfulness of care.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFor it was true of the ancient Irish God of Peaceful Souls, named\nWurra-Wurra, that no creature of woman born could stand before him an\u2019\nknow more of trouble in this world. From ivery shoulder he took off the\ntrouble to place it upon its own, and bear it thinceforth in token of\nhis great love and compassion for all with minds distrissed. There was\nno nade for Keth to read the inscription on the stone which was the\nidol\u2019s seat\u2014which, indade, he could not, for it was in the most ancient\nIrish characters. \u2019Twas Bishop Erc, the same who was Judge in Patrick\u2019s\nhousehold and a very learned man, who afterward put it into Gaelic,\nwhich, being translated into English, is the best of all mottoes in the\ncategory, namely:\n\n                             LET WURRA WORRY\n\nThere was no nade for Keth Mac Maragh to read this inscription, for the\nface and figure of the idol, an\u2019 his wide opin ears foriver listenin\u2019,\nthimselves told the whole story\u2014not only that it was his business to bear\nall the worries and troubles of the world, but that he liked the job!\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIndade, yis. Though the weight of the world\u2019s worries through a hundred\ncinturies had glued the stomach of him to his thighs, an\u2019 his broad\nchist risted on his stomach so that the massy shoulders were prissed\nnearly down to the region of his navel, while the heft of the troubles\nshowered on his head had crunched it down into his bristbone\u2014in spite of\nall the crushing weight of worries upon him the smile he wore was like\nthe noon sun bursting through after a tin days\u2019 rain in April. \u2019Twas that\nsame smile of Wurra-Wurra that chased away all the curses out of the\nheart of Keth Mac Maragh an\u2019 brought the great peace to his soul.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAlas! as Keth looked upon the idol, Patrick an\u2019 all his glorious works\nbecame no more than a faded memory. He filt himself ready to prostrate\nhimsilf before Wurra-Wurra an\u2019 whisper into the ear of him his last\nsmall worry about Finola of the White Shoulder\u2014upon which he had risted\nhis head more ardently than was good for his ease of mind\u2014whin a\nwell-raymimbered an\u2019 hated voice brought him suddenly to himsilf.\n\n\u201cBack, thou sacriligious monster!\u201d said the voice, an\u2019 Keth knew it for\nthe voice of Lochru, the wizard.\n\nIndade, the wizard, prancin\u2019 down the hillside into the valley, frothin\u2019\nat the mouth an\u2019 all his whiskers flyin\u2019 in the mornin\u2019 breeze, was only\na lape or two from the mouth of the grotto.\n\n\u201cBack!\u201d he shrieked. \u201cBack! or I\u2019ll blast ye with the spell of Banba!\u201d\n\n\u2019Twas nothing against Keth Mac Maragh that in his surprise he should\nstand back a few paces and raise his shield, for old Lochru in a rage\nwas a sight to sind children into spasms. \u2019Twas a good thing, too, for\nthe hated sight of Lochru brought back the grateful mimory of Patrick,\nan\u2019 the strength to his arm, so that he faced the wizard boldly, saying:\n\n\u201cGet thee gone thou Geis of demon\u2019s spawn, ere I spill thy rotten brains\nto gain a new handstone wherewith to destroy thy demon masters! Irk me\nnot, as I have better work at hand than to bandy words with such as\nthou!\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _With his mighty handstone, defying Lochru, Keth shatters\nthe idol Wurra-Wurra_]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAn\u2019 raisin\u2019 his handstone while the strength was fresh again in his\narm, Keth Mac Maragh hurled it so swift and so straight that the idol\u2019s\nface\u2014barrin\u2019 only wan fine ear\u2014was shattered into a thousand pieces.\nAn\u2019 Lochru, seeing that Wurra-Wurra was no more\u2014a headless god havin\u2019\nno further virtue in the Druid philosophy\u2014Lochru ran shriekin\u2019 up the\nvalley, to remain until his death the craziest loonatic in Ireland.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis a fine job well done,\u201d raymarked Keth to himsilf as he wint and\nraycovered his handstone in the grotto from among the fragmints that were\nwance the head of Wurra-Wurra. \u201cAn\u2019 now for a bit of sup an\u2019 drink, an\u2019 a\nfine long slape.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nBut \u2019twas nayther food nor drink nor slape Keth Mac Maragh was to get\nthat day. For he had returned on his way up Glanngalt no more than the\ndistance of nine ridges whin he was stopped by a runner comin\u2019 down the\nvalley with the speed of the wind. The boy bein\u2019 breathless, Keth was the\nfirst to spake:\n\n\u201cIf \u2019tis to the King of Connaught ye bear your message,\u201d he said, \u201csure\nye\u2019re off your road.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration: _Finola runs to Keth and delivers an urgent message from\nPatrick_]\n\n\u201cKeth Mac Maragh,\u201d panted the runner\u2014who was lithe an\u2019 slender, with\nround cheeks an\u2019 a white chin\u2014\u201chas the day come so soon whin ye forgit\nthe face of your own Finola?\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d said Keth in astonishment, \u201cwill ye tell me that your haythin\nheresies have so strong a howld on ye that ye\u2019ve lift the household an\u2019\nspiritual guidance of the good Patrick of Armagh?\u201d\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d said Finola. \u201c\u2019Tis for Patrick sure I\u2019m runnin\u2019, an\u2019 the message\nis to yoursilf.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo! \u2019Twas the likes of Finola that gave me away!\u201d And Keth glowered\ndarkly at the maid.\n\n\u201cTell me, Keth,\u201d she said in anxious tones, \u201cye\u2019ve not done it? Ye\u2019ve\nnot bashed the great idol, Wurra-Wurra?\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSomethin\u2019 towld Keth that \u2019twould be as well for him to dissimble. So he\nanswered cunningly:\n\n\u201cSure the pot-bellied stone haythin sits as firm on his sate as iver he\ndid.\u201d\n\n\u201cO Wurra-Wurra!\u201d said Finola, with hands clasped in gratitude.\n\n\u201cLave off your heretical supplications,\u201d said Keth harshly, \u201can\u2019 hand\nover me missage from Patrick.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis this,\u201d said Finola, givin\u2019 him a tinder look from her eyes.\n\u201cAnother bunch of poor loonatics have started down Glanngalt to lave\ntheir troubles with Wurra-Wurra. Patrick follows with his household,\nbut too late to heal thim with the spirit of the Four Gospils before\nthey feel the spell of the sacred grotto. So ye\u2019re to let thim, for this\nwance, resayve their easemint from Wurra-Wurra, as of old\u2014for sure,\nPatrick says, the great idol is an instrumint of God, not yet to be\ndestroyed.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cSo be it,\u201d said Keth, dissimbling again. \u201cGo you back to Patrick an\u2019 I\nwill wait for ye beside the grotto.\u201d\n\nFinola flung hersilf upon his neck. \u201c\u2019Tis like the owld swate Keth,\u201d\nshe said. \u201cAh, Keth, why are ye not always true to the gintleness an\u2019\nhilpfulness that shines in your face so like Wurra-Wurra\u2019s own?\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThin she kissed him and lift him, an\u2019 Keth wint slowly back to the\ngrotto, with his chin on his brist, wonderin\u2019 how he was to restore the\nidol\u2019s broken head on his shoulders. He gathered up the pieces an\u2019 mixed\nsome clay an\u2019 tried to patch thim together, but \u2019twas no use\u2014too well had\nthe handstone done its work!\n\nAn\u2019 now Keth could hear the fresh bunch of loonatics comin\u2019 shriekin\u2019 an\u2019\nmoanin\u2019 down the valley. \u2019Twas even a worse predicamint he was in, for,\ncrowdin\u2019 the loonatics on all sides were scores an\u2019 hundreds of maids\nweepin\u2019 for their gallivantin\u2019 swatehearts, an\u2019 old dames lamintin\u2019 sheep\nwith the foot rot, cows with calves miscast an\u2019 such like troubles which\n\u2019twas in the minds of thim to shoulder off on Wurra-Wurra.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cSure, \u2019tis a tight place I\u2019m in,\u201d thought Keth Mac Maragh. \u201cThe\nloonatics, an\u2019 the maids, an\u2019 the old women will be after bashin\u2019 the\nhead of me as I bashed their haythin idol. True, I have me handstone, but\nwhat is wan handstone for all that crazy bunch?\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAn\u2019 then suddenly it flashed across his mind about what Finola had\nsaid of his face raysimblin\u2019 that of Wurra-Wurra. \u201cSure, \u2019tis only the\nfondness of her foolish little haythin heart,\u201d thought Keth. But as \u2019twas\nthe only chance, an\u2019 the first of the loonatics bein\u2019 now close to the\ngrotto, Keth Mac Maragh wint behind the headless idol an\u2019 leaned over\nwith his neck in the hollow between the shoulders which the handstone had\ncut as though through a bog-cured cheese. He brought his chin down near\nto the idol\u2019s navel, prissed the cheek of him against the opin ear that\nremained so providentially, hid his arms an\u2019 body behind the great bulk\nof the image\u2014an\u2019 thin upon the face of him he spread the gintlest and\ntinderest smile that was in him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSure it was all the same to the loonatics. Indade, it seemed an\nimprovement. For, no sooner did a daft wan catch the twinkle in Keth\u2019s\neye than the twisted brains of him were all straightened out an\u2019 he\npassed on rejoicin\u2019. As the last of the crazy wans were droppin\u2019 their\ntroubles on Wurra-Wurra, Keth saw that Patrick an\u2019 his followers had\nrached the bottom of the valley, where the blissed saint that was to be,\nsurrounded by his bishops and his priests and his psalmists, all in their\nvestmints, was prachin\u2019 the Gospil an\u2019 making converts of iverybody.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAll the while Keth grew bolder with his smile an\u2019 the twinkle in his eye.\nWhin it came to the turn of the old dames with their cow-yard troubles,\nsiveral times he forgot himsilf so far as to smile aloud. Indade, more\nthan wan full-stomached guffaw did he give in the face of thim, an\u2019 got\naway with it, so rayjoiced they were with the lightness of heart that\nWurra-Wurra gave thim.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhin it came to the sorrowin\u2019 maids with their sad tales on their\nswatehearts, beyond a wink or two at the prettiest Keth was moved to\nrestrain himsilf. For sure, many were the pitiful tales of loving maids\u2019\ntroubles they poured in his ear! Tales they were that made his heart\nsore, an\u2019 disturbed his mind with recollictions of strange words lately\ndropped by Finola of the White Shoulder. \u2019Twas this new light on those\nsame words that now caused Keth Mac Maragh to forget for a momint the\nsmile of Wurra-Wurra, an\u2019 to close his eyes with the pain of the thought\nthat came to him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration: _Keth, in the shattered idol\u2019s place, hears Finola\u2019s great\nworry_]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAn\u2019 whin Keth opened his eyes the last of the maids was prostrated before\nhim\u2014an\u2019 she was Finola! Quickly\u2014though his soul quaked\u2014he raycalled the\nsmile of Wurra-Wurra to his face. \u2019Twas none too soon, for Finola, risen\nto her feet an\u2019 leanin\u2019 over, was pourin\u2019 into the idol\u2019s ear all the\ngrafe an\u2019 dread that clutched her heart. From Finola\u2019s lips the tale was\nlike a white-hot iron in Keth\u2019s vitals. Yet it made his heart swell an\u2019\nrache out to her so that he could not restrain himsilf, but turned his\nhead an\u2019 put his lips to hers in a kiss that dropped her like wan dead at\nthe idol\u2019s feet.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNow Keth Mac Maragh knew what it was for him to do, an\u2019 he rayjoiced to\ndo it quickly. He came out from behind the shattered idol, an\u2019 lifted the\nlimp form of Finola in his arms, an\u2019 bore her swiftly through the press\nof people up to Patrick himsilf, an\u2019 said:\n\n\u201cGood Patrick of Armagh, this maid gave her swate silf to me more suns\ngone by than it pleases me to raymimber. As thy faithful follower, an\u2019\nfor the honor of thy household, I pray you now give her to me in the name\nof our Holy Church an\u2019 in the sight of all min.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Patrick marries and blesses Keth and Finola of the White\nShoulder_]\n\nAn\u2019 Patrick, seein\u2019 how the matter lay\u2014Finola bein\u2019 raycovered from her\nswoon an\u2019 clingin\u2019 tight to Keth\u2014thin an\u2019 there married an\u2019 blissed thim.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u2019Tis towld in the books how Keth became a bishop, though niver would he\naltogether lay aside the handstone which had lain low the last idol in\nIreland, an\u2019 how all the four fine sons that Finola bore him were sure\ndeath to snakes an\u2019 Druid wizards till not wan of ayther was lift in the\nland.\n\nConcernin\u2019 the grotto, an\u2019 the headless idol in it, all there prisint\nbein\u2019 now convertid Christians, by their own free will they prisintly\ndestroyed ivery vistige of both. Yet to this day there remains on the\nlips of all the Irish race in time of trouble or worry that same ancient\ninvocation: \u201cO Wurra-Wurra!\u201d\n\nAn\u2019 the ixplanation is Patrick\u2019s own desire that it should be so. For, as\nhe raymarked upon that occasion, Wurra-Wurra, as spoken in the Gaelic, is\nthe same as wan calling upon the blissid Virgin, \u201cO Mary!\u201d in that tongue.\n\n\nFINIS.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: WURRA-WURRA\n\nFrom a Photograph of the original wax model of the reconstructed Idol.\n\n\u201cYe\u2019ve only to whisper your worries into the blissed ear of Wurra-Wurra\nan\u2019 they\u2019ll all fall from ye, lavin\u2019 ye clane an\u2019 paceful an\u2019 in your\nright mind.\u201d\u2014_Legend of Wurra-Wurra._]\n\n\n\n\nHISTORICAL NOTES\n\n\n\n\nHISTORICAL NOTES ON THE LEGEND\n\n\n  BANBA (p. 39): \u201cBanba, the queen of one of the three Dedannan\n    princes, who ruled the land, sent a swarm of meisa, or phantoms,\n    which froze the blood of the invaders (the Milesians) with\n    terror.\u201d\u2014_Joyce\u2019s Social History of Ancient Ireland._\n\n  BOG-CURED CHEESE (p. 72): \u201cMasses of cheese have been found in bogs,\n    of which some specimens may be seen in the National Museum.\u201d\u2014_Joyce\u2019s\n    Social History._\n\n  BOOK OF THE DUN COW (p. 14): \u201cOne of the most ancient collections\n    of Irish historical and legendary material, curiously named for the\n    color of the cow in whose tanned skin it was bound.\u201d\u2014_Joyce._\n\n  BREHON LAW (p. 44): \u201cA judge was called a Brehon.... The Brehons had\n    absolutely in their hands the interpretation of the laws and the\n    application of them to individual cases.\u201d\u2014_Joyce._\n\n  CROMM CRUACH (p. 11): \u201cCromm Cruach, covered with gold and silver,\n    and twelve other idols covered with brass about him.\u201d\u2014_Tripartite\n    Life of St. Patrick._\n\n    \u201cAnd the earth swallowed up the twelve other images as far as their\n    heads, and they stand thus in token of the miracle.\u201d\u2014_Book of Armagh._\n\n  DEDANNAN FURIES (p. 22): \u201cA mythical race of powerful, demoniac and\n    dangerous elves.\u201d\u2014_Joyce._\n\n  DEMONS, WIZARDS, DRUIDS (p. 24): All the ancient accounts agree that\n    while the Druids were the only educators in the Ireland of their\n    time, they were also magicians and wizards, and could command the\n    services of demons and fairies, good and bad.\u2014_Tr._\n\n    \u201cThe demons used to show themselves unto their worshippers in visible\n    forms: they often attacked the people, and they were seen flying\n    in the air and walking on the earth, loathsome and horrible to\n    behold.\u201d\u2014_Joyce._\n\n    \u201cGod protect me from the spells of women (Druidesses) and Smiths, and\n    Druids.\u201d\u2014_St. Patrick\u2019s Hymn._\n\n  DUBTHACH MAC NA LUGAIR (p. 42): Here the Legend does not quite agree\n    with the authorities. Instead of being attached to the court of the\n    King of Connaught, he was royal poet and shanachy at Tara during the\n    greater part of Laeghaire\u2019s reign as Over-King of Ireland.\u2014_Tr._\n\n  ETHNE THE FAIR, AND FEDELM THE RUDDY (p. 9): In the \u201cTripartite Life\n    of St. Patrick\u201d and in the \u201cBook of Armagh,\u201d these two daughters\n    of King Laeghaire are mentioned as being under the instruction\n    of the Druid priests, Caplait and Lucat-Moel, at the time when\n    Patrick overthrew Cromm Cruach and the twelve smaller idols and made\n    Christian converts of the entire royal family.\u2014_Tr._\n\n  FINOLA OF THE WHITE SHOULDER (p. 16): A heroine of the \u201cBook of Armagh.\u201d\n    Evidently the Legend mistakes her for Cruimthiris, mentioned\n    in the \u201cTripartite Life\u201d as one of the three embroideresses in\n    Patrick\u2019s household.\n\n    (P. 79): The reference to the four sons of Finola of the White\n    Shoulder is clearly legendary.\u2014_Tr._\n\n  FASTING TO COLLECT A DEBT (p. 42): \u201cThe plaintiff, having served due\n    notice, went to the house of the defendant, and, sitting before the\n    door, remained there without food; and as long as he remained, the\n    defendant was also obliged to fast.\u201d\u2014_Joyce._\n\n  GEIS (p. 62): \u201cA geis was something forbidden. It was believed to be\n    very dangerous to disregard these prohibitions.\u201d\u2014_Joyce._\n\n  GLANNGALT (p. 48): \u201cThere is a valley in Kerry called Glanngalt, the\n    glen of the galts, or lunatics.\u201d\u2014_Joyce._\n\n    Here the Legend, by locating Glanngalt in Roscommon, is\n    palpably in error.\u2014_Tr._\n\n  HANDSTONE (p. 20): \u201cIt was the custom at that time, every champion\n    they killed in single combat, to take the brains out of their heads\n    and mix lime with them till they were formed into hard balls.\u201d\u2014_Book\n    of Leinster._\n\n  INNS (p. 26): The hospitable custom of maintaining inns for the free\n    entertainment of travellers is mentioned by nearly all authorities\n    regarding the social life of the ancient Irish. A most interesting\n    account is contained in \u201cJoyce\u2019s Social History.\u201d\u2014_Tr._\n\n  LAEGHAIRE (p. 9): Modern form, Leary; he was the Irish Over-King when\n    Patrick landed at Wicklow and began his missionary labors in Ireland,\n    A.D. 432. All the characters in the Legend are historic, and the\n    names are spelled as originally derived from the Gaelic.\u2014_Tr._\n\n  MAC MARAGH, KETH (p. 14): Evidently confused with Keth Magach, a\n    famous warrior and champion of that time, whose exploits are narrated\n    in the \u201cBook of Armagh.\u201d\u2014_Tr._\n\n  MACC CAIRTHINN (p. 20): In the \u201cTripartite Life\u201d Macc Cairthinn is\n    named as Patrick\u2019s Strong Man. Evidently the Legend confuses him with\n    Keth Magach.\n\n    (P. 21): According to the \u201cTripartite Life,\u201d it was Patrick\u2019s\n    Strong Man, Macc Cairthinn, who became a bishop, not Keth\n    Magach.\u2014_Tr._\n\n  METHEGLIN (p. 47): Also called mead, \u201cwas made chiefly from honey: it\n    was a drink in much request, and was considered a delicacy.... It was\n    slightly intoxicating.\u201d\u2014_Joyce._\n\n  POPULATION (p. 25): \u201cFor the people were very numerous in Ireland at\n    that time, and so great were their numbers that the land could afford\n    but thrice nine ridges to each man in Erin: viz., nine of bog, nine\n    of field and nine of wood.\u201d\u2014_Book of Hymns (Todd)._\n\n  PRESBITER BESCNA (p. 13): Named, with all the members of Patrick\u2019s\n    household, in the \u201cTripartite Life.\u201d\u2014_Tr._\n\n  RED BRANCH KNIGHTS (p. 20): According to Joyce and other authorities,\n    this was an order created by Concobar Mac Nessa, a very ancient king\n    of Ulster, and whose greatest commander was Cuculainn, the mightiest\n    hero of Irish romance.\u2014_Tr._\n\n  SHANACHY (p. 26): \u201cThe people ... took delight in listening to\n    poetry, history and romantic stories, recited by professional poets\n    and shanachies.\u201d\u2014_Joyce._\n\n  STANDARDS OF VALUE (p. 44): As in many other countries in ancient\n    times, a cow, or an ox, was the standard of value. It seems probable,\n    therefore, that the Legend is correct in using sheep, pigs and geese\n    for the \u201cfractional currency\u201d of the period.\u2014_Tr._\n\n  STRONG MAN (p. 14): These Strong Men, or champions, like the smiths\n    and other metal-workers, appear frequently in the old annals as\n    distinguished also for their knowledge of law and history, and for\n    their story-telling ability.\u2014_Tr._\n\n  TARA (p. 10): Seat of the Irish Over-Kings. Old Erin\u2019s centre of\n    government, of learning and of chivalry. Then, as now, the most\n    eloquent of all words descriptive of Ireland\u2019s ancient glory. In\n    poetry, imperishable in the line: \u201cThe harp that once thro\u2019 Tara\u2019s\n    halls.\u201d The scene of St. Patrick\u2019s first efforts to redeem Ireland\n    from paganism.\u2014_Tr._\n\n  TOBERNAGALT (p. 48): \u201cDrinking of the water of Tobernagalt (the\n    lunatics\u2019 well), and eating of the cresses that grew along the little\n    stream, the poor wanderers get restored to sanity.... There is a well\n    called Stroove Bran, which was thought to possess the same virtue as\n    Tobernagalt.\u201d\u2014_Joyce._\n\n  WURRA-WURRA (p. 18): The authorities do not specifically mention the\n    existence of an idol having that name; but they agree that idols were\n    worshipped in all parts of ancient Ireland.\u2014_Tr._\n\n    The Irish up to that time (St. Patrick\u2019s) \u201chad worshipped only idols\n    and abominations.\u201d\u2014_St. Patrick\u2019s Confession._\n\n    \u201cThe destruction of idols in various parts of the country was an\n    important part of St. Patrick\u2019s lifework.\u201d\u2014_Joyce._\n\n    (P. 80): Some Gaelic scholars hold that the familiar exclamation,\n    \u201cWurra-wurra!\u201d is the nearest approach in that tongue to the\n    conventional invocation of the Blessed Virgin. The Legend, however,\n    makes it, in that sense, an adaptation\u2014evidently intending a tribute\n    to St. Patrick\u2019s well-known policy of harmonizing his teachings, as\n    far as possible at the start, with ancient customs and beliefs.\u2014_Tr._","title":"Wurra-Wurra : $b A legend of Saint Patrick at Tara","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":8783}