The Poor Mouth

Flann O'Brien

The Old-Grey-Fellow cocked an eye at me and announced:
-Tis hot, son!
-There's an awful lot of heat in that fire truly, I replied, but look, sir, you called me son for the first time. It may be that you're my father and that I'm your child, God bless and save us and far from us be the evil thing!
-Tisn't true for you, Bonaparte, said he, for I'm your grandfather. Your father is far from home at the present but his name and surname in his present habitation are Michelangelo O'Coonassa.
-And where is he?
-He's in the jug! said the Old-Grey-Fellow.
At that time I was only about in the tenth month of my life but when I had the opportunity I looked into the jug. There was nothing in it but sour milk and it was a long time until I understood the Old-Grey-Fellow's remark, but that is another story I shall mention it in another place in this document.

Here then, reader, is some evidence for you of the life of the Gaelic paupers in Corkadoragha and an account of the fate which awaits them form their first day. After great merriment comes sorrow and good weather never remains for ever.

Here is a book of true Irish tradition. Enjoy it in its fullness and its lilt. Become a child in the ashes, growing up according to the old Gaelic tradition.