Listowel Thread

SandhillRoad wrote:

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AN BEAL BOCHT ,
I know, your right to freedom of speech etc ...... but this is outside the realm of the Listowel Forum.

....You may then dictate to us all what may be posted & what may not be posted on Internet UseNet Groups & Boards where the free exchange of information is paramount. Ya read on if ya don't like.

Do NOT presume to lecture anyone on their Board usage, SandHill Road.
I think Listowel & its Forum will do mightily well w/o your petty tutelage.:mad:

AnBealBocht wrote:

....You may then dictate to us all what may be posted & what may not be posted on Internet UseNet Groups & Boards where the free exchange of information is paramount. Ya read on if ya don't like.

Do NOT presume to lecture anyone on their Board usage, SandHill Road.
I think Listowel & its Forum will do mightily well w/o your petty tutelage.:mad:

Now now Béal Bocht, this childish squabbling and name calling is most unedifying for us all to witness.
Sandhiil is only trying to keep us all in order and has been the most dedicated and generous contributer to this forum. It would certainly be a poorer place without his input.

Cherry Tree wrote:

Now now Béal Bocht, this childish squabbling and name calling is most unedifying for us all to witness.
Sandhiil is only trying to keep us all in order and has been the most dedicated and generous contributer to this forum. It would certainly be a poorer place without his input.

But, poorer yet if he is allowed to dictate content. No?.

And, Cain killed Abel for less. :-)

Cain stays his hand & the Lord is mightily pleased. :rolleyes:

Here is a song that Niamh Parsons sings.

The Tinkerman's Daughter
(Michael MacConnell)

The wee birds were lining the bleak autumn branches
Waiting to fly to a far sunny shore
When the tinkers made camp at a bend on the river
Coming back from the horse-fair in Ballinasloe
The harvest being over the farmer came walking
Along the Feale River that bordered his land
'Twas there he first saw her 'twixt firelight and water
The tinkerman's daughter, the red-headed Ann

Next morning he woke from a night without resting
He went to her father, he made his claim known
In a pub in Listowel they worked out a bargain
For the tinker a pony, for the daughter a home
Where the trees shed their shadows along the Feale River
The tinker and the farmer inspected the land
And a white gelding pony was the price they agreed on
For the tinkerman's daughter, the red-headed Ann

With the wedding soon over the tinkers departed
They're eager to travel on south down the road
The crunch of their iron-shod wheels on the gravel
Was as bitter to her as the way she'd been sold
She tried hard to please him, she did all his bidding
She slept in his bed and she worked on the land
But the walls of that cabin pressed tighter and tighter
On the tinkerman's daughter, the red-headed Ann

White as the hands of the priest or the hangman
The snow spread its blanket the next Christmas round
The tinkerman's daughter slipped out of his bedside
Turned her back on the land and her face to the town
It's said someone saw her at dusk that same evening
As she made her way out o'er Likelycompane
And that was the last time the settled folk saw her
The tinkerman's daughter, the red-headed Ann

Where the North Kerry hills cup the Feale o'er Listowel
At a farm on its banks lives a bitter old man
He swears by the shotgun he keeps at his bedside
He'll kill any tinker that camps on his land
Whenever he hears iron-shod wheels on gravel
Or a horse in the shafts of a bright caravan
Then his day's work's tormented, his night sleep's demented
By the tinkerman's daughter, the red-headed Ann

"The Ballad of the Tinker's Daughter was written by Sigerson Clifford, born in Cork of Kerry parents in 1913, died in 1985. Tim Dennehy put it to music in 1986 and recorded it on his tape 'A Thimbleful of Song'. There are 11 verses to this poem and whilst it's possible to see how this inspired Mickey MacConnell to write 'The Tinkerman's Daughter', it tells a more complex story: farmer steals tinker's daughter; she returns to the gypsies where she dies during child-birth; some years later the boy returns to the farm and is shot by father (who no longer lets gypsies on his land); before he dies the boy tells farmer who he is; farmer hangs himself; villagers bury the pair of them and are joined by a red-headed gypsy girl in the funeral procession, who disappears once the 'mound was patted down'."

But the story of the song doesn't end there, as [Niamh] Parsons found out after she met MacConnell. The source material proved to be nearly as interesting as the song. "I eventually got to meet Mickey. He is a Northerner, he has great insight into Ireland and what he did was he found a man named Sigerson Clifford. Clifford is a poet who died around 10 years ago. In the middle of one of his books is a poem called 'The Red Headed Ann.' Mickey MacConnell took that poem, kept the story and wrote a song from it. He never uses even a line from the poem but he used that story to write a whole new song. But Sigerson Clifford's story continues, to say that a tinker comes on the farmer's land many years later and as he threatened, the farmer kills the tinker. When he has shot him dead he discovered that it was his son by the Red Headed Ann. He kills himself and the ghost of the tinkerman's daughter is seen walking along the road. That was so heavy it couldn't be put into the song but that's how the story really ends.

There are a number of people, including myself, who liked to keep an eye on the "Listowel Forum". I do not like the idea of there being two "competing" areas.

I think that it was Brendan Behan said that the first item on the agenda of any Irish organisation was "the split". Please show that we have grown up since 1922.




There are 10 types of people who understand Binary. Those who do and those who don't.