Fun o' the Forge: Stories

STORIES
BRIAN O'HIGGINS
All Rights Reserved
DUBLIN WHELAN AND SON 17 UPPER ORMOND QUAY
Cahill & Co., Ltd., Printers, Dublin.
In addition to many other blessings, God has given to us, Gaels of the Irish land, the priceless gift of humour, the saving grace of laughter. May we never lose them! They have been good friends to us in the days of darkness; let it be one of our duties to nurture and strengthen them in the brighter day that has already dawned in Eirinn. Throughout the land, in forge and workshop, in field and by fireside, there is many a Ned McGrane—witty, wise and laughter-loving—who has the power to pull aside the gloomy curtains of melancholy and moodiness and to pour into the hearts of all who will listen to him the sunshine of merriment and mirth, while never saying a word that would offend the most sensitive ear or leave a bad impression on the most susceptible mind. In this, as in a thousand other ways, we differ from the enemy that is still within our gates. His best humour is coarse or smutty, his heartiest laughter is jarring and hurtful, his outlook on life is very different to that of the genial blacksmith of Balnagore. God speed the day when the smutty wit of the Sasanach shall be heard no longer in our land, when the laughter of the open-hearted, clean-minded Gael shall ring from end to end of Eirinn, lighting every mind, lifting up every heart, and softening for all who have suffered the memory of those sadder days that they have known.
Brian O hUiginn.
Samhain, 1917.

The smithy in which Ned M'Grane carried on his trade was close to the roadside, about a quarter of a mile from the head of the glen. There was no house very close to it on any side, though old Peggy Hogan's cottage was not so far away but that Ned could hear Peggy's shrill Chuck, chuck, chuck, every evening at sundown, as she called her hens and chickens home to roost. The smithy was sheltered by the big beeches which overhung the road from Rowan's demesne, and when the fire was in full glow it was as fine a place for a seanchus among the boys as you'd find in any corner of the broad land of Eireann; and well did the boys know that, because there was scarcely a night during the whole winter on which they didn't gather around the cheery fire in the forge, and discuss in breezy fashion and with a good deal of wit, almost every subject of interest under the sun, while they watched Ned M'Grane at his work, and openly admired the strength of his shapely arms.