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IMPRECATORY PHRASES
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All three wishing evil upon an enemy.
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My lostey lhoam er eh.
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My bare burning on him.
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Giare ny heill orroo.
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A short life on them.
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Skeab orroo.
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The besom [broom] on them — May they be swept out of the way.
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ooriltagh
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[I will give you] refreshment (I will clout you).
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My hiaght mynney mollaght ort.
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My seven swearings of a curse on thee.
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Note, — The Irish and Scotch representatives of the Manx word mynnye mean swearing, cursing (mionna, mionach), and are used in the Irish and Scotch versions of the Bible. Mollaght mynney — a curse of swearing, a sworn curse. “Loo mollaght mynney ad dy stroie” (Fin as Oshin). The later form is mynney mollaght — swearing of a curse. “My hiaght mynney mollaght ort (Mylecharaine). i.e., “My seven swearings of a curse on thee.”
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RHYMES AND STORIES.
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Feeagh doo, feeagh doo, nagh vaik 00 ny bochillyn?
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Black raven, black raven, did you see the shepherds?
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T’ad ny hoie gob ry ghob cooyl-chlea yn clieau.
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They are sitting face to face by the mountain hedge.
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Ta mee gollish myr eoylley,
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I am sweating like dung [manure],
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Whaaley cooat feailley,
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Stitching the holiday coat,
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Tummey yn snaie ayns ushtey
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Dipping the needle in water
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Son nagh goghe ee aile ;
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Lest it take [catch] fire ;
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Myr ta’n snaie cheet jeh bluggan,
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As the thread comes off a ball,
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T’eh goll ayns snaid lesh whush ayn.
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It goes into the needle with a whiz in it.
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Sung by an old tailor at his work. The last two lines are not always quoted, but I myself heard them sung lately in Peel:
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Ny mraane oast ta’d stoamey,
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The landladies are smart,
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Tra ta mish shooyl my voght,
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While I am but a fool,
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As ooilley eiraght my ayraghyn
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And all my father’s heritage
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Currit ayn son jough.
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Given away for ale.
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Ny paitchyn ain ta roost as broigh,
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Our children naked and in filth
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Nyn kishtey neesht as follym,
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Our cupboards they are bare ;
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Ta mee-hene my voght lesh giu yn yough,
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Myself a fool with drinking ale,
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As clooidyn fritlagh orrym.
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And ragged clouts I wear.
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Ta’n Ollick veg fo’n vink,
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The little Christmas (O.S.) is under the bench,
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Ta’n Ollick vooar cooyl thie,
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The big Christmas is at the back of the house,
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Eisht lhig dooin goll er gys y phurt ;
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Then let us go down to the port;
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Son lane bolg dy yough vie.
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For a bellyful of good ale
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(Another version is in Note and Queries. page 17.)
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This nursery jingle, which still lingers in Peel—
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Ollick veg ec y vink,
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[Little Christmas at the bench,]
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Fill the cup and give me drink.
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Fill the cup and give me drink.
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Ollick vooar ec y thie.
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Little Christmas at the house.
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Cappan jough as peash dy pie.
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A cup of ale and a piece of pie.
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Va dooinney jeh sluight Adam cummal ayns boayl dy row
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There was a man of Adam’s race, He had a certain dwelling-place;
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Cha rieau eh er yn thalloo, niau, ny niurin ;
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’Twas not in earth, in heaven, or hell;
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Insh dou c’raad v’eh cummal?
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Now tell me where that man did dwell ?
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Fragment of a nursery rhyme:
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Sheid geay, sheid as gleashey ny strauyn,
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Blow wind, blow and stir the straws,
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Ben hie dy fuinney as losht ee e laueyn.
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A woman went to bake and she burnt her hands.
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Ta mee er chlashtyn ny shenn vraane ginsh da ny paitchyn mysh daa feeagh ren meeiteil cheayrt dy row ; as ren fer jeu briaght jeh’n fer elley “Cre’n niaght ta lhiat?”
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I have heard the old women this story to the children about two ravens that met once, and one asked the other what news he had.
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Dooyrt eh, “Ta’n bock bane marroo.”
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“The white horse is dead,” said he.
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“Vel eh roauyr, vel eh roauyr?” dooyrt eh
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“Is he fat, is he fat?” said the other.
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“Ooilley ayns oorey, ooilley ayns oorey,” eisht v’eh arryssagh dy ren eh ginsh shen da,
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“All in gravy, all in gravy,” [said he], then, repenting that he had told him,
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“Craueyn loam, craueyn loam,” dooyrt eh.
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“Bare bones, bare bones,” said he.
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Ta mish er chlashtyn mysh three deiney ghow orroo dy hoilshagh c’red va yn red stroshey ayns yn seihll.
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I have heard about three men taking on them to show what was the strongest thing in the world.
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Dooyrt yn chied fer, “Dy re feeyn, son dy yinnagh feeyn cur er dooinney yannoo nhee erbee.”
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The first man said, “It is wine, for wine would make a man do anything.”
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Dooyrt yn nah ’er “Dy re airh dy yinnagh dooinney red erbee son airh.”
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The second man said, “It is gold, for men would do anything for gold.”
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Dooyrt yn trass fer, “Dy re ben, dy yinnagh dooinney red erbee son graih mraane.”
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The third man said, “It is woman, for man would do anything for a woman’s love.”
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As va eshyn coontit dy ve kiart.
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And he was counted to be right.
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Roie, warree, roie, te yn skillin s’deyrey ren shin rieau cosney.
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Run, granny, run; it’s the dearest shilling that ever you won.
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The little boy said this when his granny went for a hare before the hounds (she being a buitch [witch]). She went as a hare and lay in a bush for the sake of the shilling. None of the hunters knew it was granny until the boy began to shout to her to run.”
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