merve/folk-mythology-tales · Datasets at Hugging Face

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you in that danger."

But Redhead whispered and nudged Tom about how shabby it would look to
reneague the adventure. So he asked which way he was to go, and Redhead
directed him.

Well, he travelled and travelled, till he came in sight of the walls of
hell; and, bedad, before he knocked at the gates, he rubbed himself
over with the greenish ointment. When he knocked, a hundred little imps
popped their heads out through the bars, and axed him what he wanted.

"I want to speak to the big divel of all," says Tom: "open the gate."

It wasn't long till the gate was thrune open, and the Ould Boy received
Tom with bows and scrapes, and axed his business.

"My business isn't much," says Tom. "I only came for the loan of that
flail that I see hanging on the collar-beam, for the king of Dublin to
give a thrashing to the Danes."

"Well," says the other, "the Danes is much better customers to me; but
since you walked so far I won't refuse. Hand that flail," says he to a
young imp; and he winked the far-off eye at the same time. So, while
some were barring the gates, the young devil climbed up, and took down
the flail that had the handstaff and booltheen both made out of red-hot
iron. The little vagabond was grinning to think how it would burn the
hands o' Tom, but the dickens a burn it made on him, no more nor if it
was a good oak sapling.

"Thankee," says Tom. "Now would you open the gate for a body, and I'll
give you no more trouble."

"Oh, tramp!" says Ould Nick; "is that the way? It is easier getting
inside them gates than getting out again. Take that tool from him, and
give him a dose of the oil of stirrup."

So one fellow put out his claws to seize on the flail, but Tom gave him
such a welt of it on the side of the head that he broke off one of his
horns, and made him roar like a devil as he was. Well, they rushed at
Tom, but he gave them, little and big, such a thrashing as they didn't
forget for a while. At last says the ould thief of all, rubbing his
elbow, "Let the fool out; and woe to whoever lets him in again, great
or small."

So out marched Tom, and away with him, without minding the shouting and
cursing they kept up at him from the tops of the walls; and when he got
home to the big bawn of the palace, there never was such running and
racing as to see himself and the flail. When he had his story told, he
laid down the flail on the stone steps, and bid no one for their lives
to touch it. If the king, and queen, and princess, made much of him
before, they made ten times more of him now; but Redhead, the mean
scruff-hound, stole over, and thought to catch hold of the flail to
make an end of him. His fingers hardly touched it, when he let a roar
out of him as if heaven and earth were coming together, and kept
flinging his arms about and dancing, that it was pitiful to look at
him. Tom run at him as soon as he could rise, caught his hands in his
own two, and rubbed them this way and that, and the burning pain left
them before you could reckon one. Well the poor fellow, between the
pain that was only just gone, and the comfort he was in, had the
comicalest face that you ever see, it was such a mixtherum-gatherum of
laughing and crying. Everybody burst out a laughing--the princess could
not stop no more than the rest; and then says Tom, "Now, ma'am, if
there were fifty halves of you, I hope you'll give me them all."

Well, the princess looked at her father, and by my word, she came over
to Tom, and put her two delicate hands into his two rough ones, and I
wish it was myself was in his shoes that day!

Tom would not bring the flail into the palace. You may be sure no other
body went near it; and when the early risers were passing next morning,
they found two long clefts in the stone, where it was after burning
itself an opening downwards, nobody could tell how far. But a messenger
came in at noon, and said that the Danes were so frightened when they
heard of the flail coming into Dublin, that they got into their ships,
and sailed away.

Well, I suppose, before they were married, Tom got some man, like Pat
Mara of Tomenine, to learn him the "principles of politeness,"
fluxions, gunnery, and fortification, decimal fractions, practice, and
the rule of three direct, the way he'd be able to keep up a
conversation with the royal family. Whether he ever lost his time
learning them sciences, I'm not sure, but it's as sure as fate that his
mother never more saw any want till the end of her days.

MAN OR WOMAN BOY OR GIRL THAT READS WHAT FOLLOWS 3 TIMES SHALL FALL
ASLEEP AN HUNDRED YEARS

JOHN D. BATTEN DREW THIS AUG. 20TH, 1801 GOOD-NIGHT

you in that danger."

But Redhead whispered and nudged Tom about how shabby it would look to

reneague the adventure. So he asked which way he was to go, and Redhead

directed him.

Well, he travelled and travelled, till he came in sight of the walls of

hell; and, bedad, before he knocked at the gates, he rubbed himself

over with the greenish ointment. When he knocked, a hundred little imps

popped their heads out through the bars, and axed him what he wanted.

"I want to speak to the big divel of all," says Tom: "open the gate."

It wasn't long till the gate was thrune open, and the Ould Boy received

Tom with bows and scrapes, and axed his business.

"My business isn't much," says Tom. "I only came for the loan of that

flail that I see hanging on the collar-beam, for the king of Dublin to

give a thrashing to the Danes."

"Well," says the other, "the Danes is much better customers to me; but

since you walked so far I won't refuse. Hand that flail," says he to a

young imp; and he winked the far-off eye at the same time. So, while

some were barring the gates, the young devil climbed up, and took down

the flail that had the handstaff and booltheen both made out of red-hot

iron. The little vagabond was grinning to think how it would burn the

hands o' Tom, but the dickens a burn it made on him, no more nor if it

was a good oak sapling.

"Thankee," says Tom. "Now would you open the gate for a body, and I'll

give you no more trouble."

"Oh, tramp!" says Ould Nick; "is that the way? It is easier getting

inside them gates than getting out again. Take that tool from him, and

give him a dose of the oil of stirrup."

So one fellow put out his claws to seize on the flail, but Tom gave him

such a welt of it on the side of the head that he broke off one of his

horns, and made him roar like a devil as he was. Well, they rushed at

Tom, but he gave them, little and big, such a thrashing as they didn't

forget for a while. At last says the ould thief of all, rubbing his

elbow, "Let the fool out; and woe to whoever lets him in again, great

or small."

So out marched Tom, and away with him, without minding the shouting and

cursing they kept up at him from the tops of the walls; and when he got

home to the big bawn of the palace, there never was such running and

racing as to see himself and the flail. When he had his story told, he

laid down the flail on the stone steps, and bid no one for their lives

to touch it. If the king, and queen, and princess, made much of him

before, they made ten times more of him now; but Redhead, the mean

scruff-hound, stole over, and thought to catch hold of the flail to

make an end of him. His fingers hardly touched it, when he let a roar

out of him as if heaven and earth were coming together, and kept

flinging his arms about and dancing, that it was pitiful to look at

him. Tom run at him as soon as he could rise, caught his hands in his

own two, and rubbed them this way and that, and the burning pain left

them before you could reckon one. Well the poor fellow, between the

pain that was only just gone, and the comfort he was in, had the

comicalest face that you ever see, it was such a mixtherum-gatherum of

laughing and crying. Everybody burst out a laughing--the princess could

not stop no more than the rest; and then says Tom, "Now, ma'am, if

there were fifty halves of you, I hope you'll give me them all."

Well, the princess looked at her father, and by my word, she came over

to Tom, and put her two delicate hands into his two rough ones, and I

wish it was myself was in his shoes that day!

Tom would not bring the flail into the palace. You may be sure no other

body went near it; and when the early risers were passing next morning,

they found two long clefts in the stone, where it was after burning

itself an opening downwards, nobody could tell how far. But a messenger

came in at noon, and said that the Danes were so frightened when they

heard of the flail coming into Dublin, that they got into their ships,

and sailed away.

Well, I suppose, before they were married, Tom got some man, like Pat

Mara of Tomenine, to learn him the "principles of politeness,"

fluxions, gunnery, and fortification, decimal fractions, practice, and

the rule of three direct, the way he'd be able to keep up a

conversation with the royal family. Whether he ever lost his time

learning them sciences, I'm not sure, but it's as sure as fate that his

mother never more saw any want till the end of her days.

MAN OR WOMAN BOY OR GIRL THAT READS WHAT FOLLOWS 3 TIMES SHALL FALL

ASLEEP AN HUNDRED YEARS

JOHN D. BATTEN DREW THIS AUG. 20TH, 1801 GOOD-NIGHT