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DYS MULLAGH SNIAULL ER GARRAN GREASEE.
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TO SNAEFELL’S SUMMIT ON A SHOEMAKER'S PONY.
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Myr va shin nyn soie er kione y droghad fastyr dy row y sourey shoh s’jerree, dooyrt y mwyllar rhym, “Thom, ta’n ushtey feer injil ’syn awin nish, as t’ou gra nagh vel mooarane obbyr ayd; jean mayd goaill laa harrish dys Laxa? Cha row mee ay’s shen rish bleeantyn.”
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As we were sitting on tne head of the bridge one evening this last summer, the miller said to me, “Tom, the water is low in the river now, and you say you have not much work. Will we have a day and go to Laxey? I have not been there for years.”
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“Mie dy liooar,” dooyrt mish, ga dy vel kesmadyn y gharran er n’aase veg, bee yn laa liauyr roin as ta’n raad braeu rea.”
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“Very well,” I said, “though my pony’s steps have grown short; we will have a long day before us, and the road is pretty even.”
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Tra rosh shin dy Laxa, haghyr dy row Dan ayns Doolish, ny yeih va’n ven gennal er-bastal.
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When we got to Laxey we found Dan had gone to Douglas; however, his wife was extremely pleased (to see us).
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“Cur shilley mygeayrt er y voayl, as trooid reesht son meer dy ee,” dooyrt ish tra va shin goll magh.
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“Have a look round the village, and come again to have something to eat,” she said, as we were going out.
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Ghooinney veen! Cre’n caghlaaghyn yindyssagh ta jeant ayns y Balley-beg shen. Honnick shin thie bwaagh agglagh cooadit rish freoagh, raad va’n n’aaie cliaghtey ve. C’red va ayn agh thie oast noa son nyn joareeyn. Myr va shin nyn soie ayn goaill bine beg, cheayll shin dy row nyn sidooryn goll dy chloie ad hene er lhiattaghyn Sniaull ’syn astyr.
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Man,! what wonderful changes there are in that Village. We saw a very pretty house thatched with ling standing where the lawn had been. We found it to be a new refreshment room (inn) for the visitors. As we were sitting there, having a drink, we heard that the soldiers were to have a hill practice on or near Snaefell in the afternoon.
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“Saillym goll seose dy gheddyn shilley jeu,” dooyrt my heshey. As hie shin roin lesh y shenn bayr moanagh, goaill nyn gharran marin.
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“I would like to go up and see them,” said my companion; so we went off, up by the old peat road, taking the pony with us.
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Myr rosh shin dys y Vungaloo, va shin braue skee, son v’eh cheh agglagh. Duirree shin tammylt goaill nyn aash as bine beg.
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When we left the Bungalow, we felt somewhat tired, for it was very warm. We stayed there a short time having a rest and something to drink.
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Hug dooinney raaue dooin mychione oaie y clieau wooar dy row’n ooir feer chirrym as y faiyr oilley shirgit as dy beagh obbyr creoi ain.
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We were cautioned there by a man who told us the face of the mountain was very dry and the grass scorched, so that we would have a difficult task.
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Ny-yeih hug soar millish y clieau bioys noa ayns my henn chorp.
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However, the sweet mountain air put new life in my old body.
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Huitt my vock cheayrtyn lesh e ghoilleeid ayns wheesh dy re ledh lane staayney dooar shin dys y veinn.
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My pony fell with fatigue several times, and it was after much struggling we reached the summit.
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Huitt eh sheese bun-ry-skyn fud ny chlaghyn cheayrt as heill mee son shickyr dy row ooilley ny craueyn e henn chorp brisht. V’eh dy reagh ny-yeih lheim eh reesht er chassyn, hug eh clist ny jees ass e hene, as lesh shen v’eh aarloo son y raad reesht myr fer noa.
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Once he fell headlong down among the stones, and I thought for certain he had broken all the bones in his old body. He was so lively, however, that he sprang to his feet, gave himself a few shakes, and was again ready for the hill like a new fellow.
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Va cheeadyn dy leih ny hoie, as shooyl mygeayrt er y vullagh, son v’eh cha kiune; cha naik mee e lheid as v’eh rieau roie. Cha row cooat-jiarg erbee ry-akin; as v’eh feer ouyragh magh er y cheayn. Haink dooinney seyr dooin briaght, “Cur leshtal dooys— vel shiuish Manninee?”
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There were hundreds of people sitting, and walking about on the top, it was so calm. I had never found it so pleasant before. There was not a single red coat to be seen; and it was very misty out on the sea. A gentleman came to us saying. “Excuse me—are ye Manksmen?”
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“Manninee dooie,” dooyrt my heshey, “ruggit as troggit.”
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“We are native Manksmen," said my companion, “both by birth and rearing.”
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As dênee eh cre’n raad haink shin seose. “Er garran y greasee,” dooyrt mish.
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He inquired of us how we had came up.
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“On the shoemaker’s pony.” I said.
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“C’raad t’eh nish eisht; vel eh gyndyr boayl ennagh ayns shoh?” dooyrt eh.
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“Where is it now?” he said. “Is it grazing somewhere here?”
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“Va traa ayn,” dooyrt mish, “dy row eh gee faiyr, agh nish myr te cha nel eh laccal veg agh cass vie currit da.”
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“There was a time,” I said, “when it did eat grass, now, however, it only requires a good foot given to it"
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Tra cheayll eh shen hug eh sooill vooar orrin as hie eh roish.
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On hearing this, he cast an angry look at us and went away.
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Cha nuirree shin foddey heose. fakin nagh row veg smoo mygeayrt na va roie. Haink shin sheese er y cheu har dys y bayr, as stiagh er dys Agneash.
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We remained but a short time, finding there was nothing unusual to be seen. We came down on the east side to the mountain road, and thence on to Agneash.
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Veeit shin dooinney ayns shen giarrey faiyr, as duiriee shin tammylt marish, son va cooish mooar echey dy-yannoo marin, as briaght shin jeh mychione y Schoill Gailckagh. “O! t’eh jeight son y tourey,” dooyrt eh.
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There we met a man cutting grass, and remained with him a while, as he was very talkative, and we inquired of him concerning the Manks School. “Oh! it is closed for the summer.” he said.
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“As cha nel mee clashtyn wheesh as fockle ny vud oc nish, agh c’red nee ad jannoo fegooish lioaryn. T’ad go-rish lhong er y cheayn fegooish shiauihll. Cha s’aym c’red t’an Sheshaght Yhlaare goll dy yannoo.”
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“And I don't hear even a word among them now. But what they can do without books? They are like a ship without sails. I wonder what the Language Society are going to do?”
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Woish shen hie shin siyragh heese da’n Balley-beg son va’n dorrid cheet er as va shin la-al byt dy ee as tammylt dy aash son y gharran.
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From there we hurried down to the Village, as darkness was coming on, and we wanted something to eat, and a rest for the pony.
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“Nee shoh yn traa ta shiu cheet, smooinnee mee dy row shin er n’goll thie,” dooyrt y ven.
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“Is it now you are coming back; I thought you had gone home,” said Dan’s wife.
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Va lane yindys oc tra cheayll ad yn skeeal.
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They were quite astonished when they heard our story.
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Myr va shin goaill y bayr toshiaght ny hoie, dooyrt y Mwyllar rhym. “Ta shooyl go-rish shoh foddey share da sleih ny’n stoo fir-lhee as t’eh mie son y greasee.”
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As we were going home in the twilight, the Miller said “A stroll like this is far better for people than doctor’s medicine, and good for the shoemaker.”
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THOM Y FIDDER.
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TOM THE WEAVER.
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