Dublin Folk Tales for Children Read online

  ‘Are you ill, Matthew?’ Cathleen said to him, with concern in her voice. ‘Sure you’re quite pale.’

  But instead of answering her question he simply looked at her and said, ‘You’ll meet me at the bench near the gates of the Inns tonight at nine. Don’t be late, it’s important.’

  And then he turned and left.

  Now poor Cathleen didn’t know what to make of that. She had never seen him be so cold with her. But she knew him to be a good man, so it must be something else that was on his mind.

  She let herself feel a tiny flicker of happiness in her heart. ‘Perhaps he wants to propose to me tonight? That’s it! He is so pale and acting a little odd because he is so nervous!’

  With this happy thought growing in her heart, off she went home, and about her day. When night fell she snuck out of the house (for her father wouldn’t have been too happy about her going out so late), and made her way to where Matthew had asked her to meet him.

  When she got there, sure enough, there he was sitting on the bench, waiting for her. He was looking straight ahead, not at her, but still she smiled at him. She turned her face to him and leaned in, expecting him to greet her with a kiss. But he didn’t – he just kept staring ahead!

  A cold wind whipped around the bench where they were sitting. Cathleen shivered, and drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

  ‘What did you bring me here for, Matthew?’ she asked him, growing a little worried.

  Still he didn’t answer.

  ‘Matthew, are you listening to me?’ she said, a little more insistently. Then she reached out and touched his arm.

  At this, he shot up off the bench, as if he was disturbed from a deep sleep. A second later he slumped to the ground a few feet away from Cathleen.

  ‘Matthew!’ she cried.

  Of course, her first thought was to jump up and help him, to see what was wrong, but when she tried to stand, she found that she couldn’t move her legs – it was as if she was glued to the seat! The wind got suddenly colder around her, and her skin felt like ice.

  ‘Help me!’ she cried out, but it was dark, no one else was around, apart from Matthew who was lying stiff as a board on the ground.

  A split second later she heard a horrible rumbling sound, and a huge black hole opened up in the ground behind the bench. The black hole itself rose up into the air, and Cathleen heard the growling of a huge animal.

  She turned her head to see hundreds of black teeth inside the hole. The creature was hungry and it was going to swallow her whole! This was the end of her for sure, and maybe Matthew too.

  She closed her eyes tightly – then suddenly she heard a voice in her head. It was her granddad’s voice. He was talking about the pouch he gave her. The one she always wore around her neck.

  ‘In your time of darkest trouble, it will be useful to you ...’

  Quick as a flash, she ripped the cord holding the pouch from her neck, and flung the whole thing backwards into the mouth of the dark hole. The pouch flew open and the seeds from inside were tossed high in the air. There was an almighty growl from inside, and Cathleen felt herself being pushed hard off of the bench and down on to the ground, right beside where Matthew was lying.

  She turned to see the dark hole. It was huge and fierce; a big dark mouth of a creature, with flashing green eyes, and hundreds of long black teeth. It bit down into the bench where Cathleen had been sitting just moments before. But as it did, something incredible happened!

  The colour of the dark hole began to change from black to brown; some of the long pointy teeth began to turn into what looked like branches, other teeth began grow back down into the earth, like huge roots, and the flashing green eyes began to change their shape into that of leaves.

  Only moments seem to pass, and all that was left of the dark hole was a gentle rumble, and in its place was a huge and beautiful tree, one grown by the seeds from her pouch. Her granddad’s present had protected her!

  Cathleen turned to Matthew, who was just opening his eyes. The spell was broken, but he remembered nothing of the night, of course. He was very sorry that he had put his beloved into such danger, but of course it wasn’t his fault, and she forgave him immediately.

  She told him her other little secret, that she thought he was going to propose to her, and do you know what? Two weeks later he did, in that very spot (he needed two weeks to build up the nerve, but also to recover from their dangerous adventure)!

  Now, you will remember that the dark hole creature was just about to eat Cathleen when it was turned into a tree. Well, what I didn’t tell you yet, was that it was transformed into a tree mid-bite. That bench where she sat was trapped in its mouth!

  So now to this very day, you can walk to the place where this all happened, and see where the dark hole was. You can see the beautiful tree it became. You can even see the bench that it swallowed, still trapped half in, half out of the trunk. Many call it the Hungry Tree, and say that it continues to eat the bench. We know what was there before was much more scary, though, and that changing it into a tree (with the help of some magical seeds) was a very good thing!

  And do you know what, if you go there to see the tree, you just might bump into a great-great-great-great grandchild of Matthew and Cathleen, working there in the King’s Inns as a gardener!

  6

  Mrs O’Flaherty’s Chimney

  Do you have a favourite teacher from school? Someone who you really like and enjoy learning stuff with? I have a couple I can remember even today. I think the reason they were my favourites is that they made learning stuff great fun! They were fair when talking to us kids, and they taught stuff in a way that was easy for us to understand.

  This is a story about a teacher a bit like that. Her name was Mrs O’Flaherty, and she was a favourite teacher for many people in Dublin.

  Mrs O’Flaherty always believed in finding fun ways to teach stuff. She believed in listening to what everyone had to say and always having good manners.

  She was a great teacher, so she was!

  Mrs O’Flaherty taught for many years in a school in the middle of Dublin. She’d often get thank-you cards and even presents from students she had taught years ago. Imagine that!

  She must have made a good impression to be remembered even when they’d left school!

  Mrs O’Flaherty had lived most of her life in the middle of Dublin City, because it was near to her job, but when she retired, she thought to herself, ‘I think I would like to try living in a nice little place out in the country.’

  Now Mrs O’Flaherty also lived with her black and white cat, Trouble. She loved him very much, and of course, she wanted to find somewhere that suited both herself and Trouble.

  So, off she headed, in her little red car, to drive around and look for a new house for them to live in. Somewhere outside of the city a bit, where they could enjoy the fresh air, and maybe grow some flowers and vegetables in the garden. Trouble loved sniffing around vegetables!

  Now it wasn’t as easy as it sounds to find a new place. Mrs O’ looked at some of the houses with ‘For Sale’ signs, and they were gorgeous, but many were too expensive for her to buy.

  ‘You must be very rich to live in some of these places,’ she thought.

  She also found some houses that were in a nice place, but had been empty for ages and needed loads of work.

  ‘That would be hard to do by myself,’ she said, ‘and I don’t know how good you are with a hammer and nails and a drill, Trouble.’

  Trouble gave a ‘meowwww’ (which in cat language meant ‘not very good’). He was good at chasing mice, but not so good at fixing roofs at all.

  Well, Mrs O’ kept on looking at different places, and this went on for a few weeks. One week she drove over to visit a friend who lived near a place called ‘The Strawberry Beds’.

  Isn’t ‘The Strawberry Beds’ a great name for a place? When I was small, I used to imagine that if you went there you’d find a load of little strawberries, tucked up
in their blankets, snoring their juicy little heads off!

  Now of course I realised later on that ‘The Strawberry Beds’ in fact got that name because a load of fruit was grown in the area back in ‘the old days’, and the ground where you grow strawberries is called a ‘bed’ (not the same as a bed with pillows). Still, I quite like the first idea too!

  Back in the olden days, people used to take day trips over to The Strawberry Beds. It was such a lovely place, people would go over in horse and carts, and sometimes they’d take a picnic with them. There are a lot of old cottages over in The Strawberry Beds, even today.

  Well, Mrs O’ was driving in The Strawberry Beds this particular day, and she took a shortcut down a road she’d never taken before. There, on the side of the little road, didn’t she spot a little cottage with a ‘For Sale’ sign near the gate!

  Oh, it was the most beautiful little house she’d ever seen, and she fell in love with it on the spot. It had a thatched roof, white walls and red windows. It was lovely.

  She thought for sure that she couldn’t afford it, but she decided to ring the number on the ‘For Sale’ sign anyway. She was shocked when the man on the phone told her the price. She could afford to buy it!

  The man selling the house (he was called the ‘estate agent’) told her that the old owner of the house had lived abroad for years, but had just had the house fixed up on his last visit. It needed a clean, and a lick of paint or two, but everything else was grand.

  ‘When can I see it?’ asked Mrs O’ with excitement.

  ‘Well, I just put the ‘For Sale’ sign up today,’ he said. ‘I’d say it’s going to be very popular.’

  ‘I’ll take it!’ said Mrs O’.

  ‘What?’ said the estate agent. ‘But you haven’t even seen the inside of it!’

  ‘I don’t care,’ said Mrs O’. ‘It’s too lovely to let go. I want to come in to your office today and buy it!’

  And do you know what? She did, without even seeing the inside! This was a very unusual thing to do when buying a house! She went home that night and told Trouble all about it.

  ‘We have a new house!’ she said.

  Trouble looked up from his saucer of food and gave a ‘mewww’ (which in cat language is ‘that’s nice’).

  A couple of weeks later it was time for them to move house to The Strawberry Beds. A big van would follow them later in the afternoon with some of the extra furniture, but Mrs O’ and Trouble would head over first thing that morning, with her car full of boxes, including everything needed to start cleaning and make a nice cup of tea!

  They drove over from the city centre to The Strawberry Beds, then down a little road and in the driveway and up to the cottage. They parked the car, Mrs O’ walked over to the house, and unlocked the door for the first time. The door creaked open. Creeeeeak.

  Now inside, it was a bit dusty and had cobwebs in the corners, but apart from that, it was exactly like she’d hoped it would be! There was even an old kitchen table and chairs that someone else had left behind, and an old-fashioned broom propped up against the wall.

  ‘Let’s get some of those boxes inside, Trouble, and then I can start sweeping,’ she said.

  Mrs O’ started carrying in boxes, some cleaning supplies, her kettle, and some tea and milk and sugar. Now, you need a cup of tea when you are cleaning your lovely new cottage, so you do, and maybe a chocolate biscuit or two, and luckily she had brought a packet of those with her!

  Chocolate digestives. Mmmm.

  Trouble had no real interest in cleaning, so he decided to explore every nook and cranny of the cottage. This was going to be his new home, after all!

  Off he went, sniffing out every corner, starting with under the table. Very nice. Then he headed over to investigate the fireplace.

  Mrs O’ picked up the old broom, and began to sweep the kitchen floor. Well, no sooner had she given the floor one or two licks of the broom, didn’t a noise make her jump!

  ‘MEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WWWWWWW!’

  Trouble let out the biggest meow you have ever heard! He darted away from the chimney as fast as his little legs could carry him, and hid behind one of the packing boxes.

  ‘Trouble! What are ya up ta at all?’ said Mrs O’Flaherty, and she walked over to investigate whatever it was in the chimney that had frightened him.

  But, as soon as she got there, didn’t she let out a big noise, not far from a meow herself!

  ‘OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!’ she said, and backed away from the chimney, fanning her nose with her hand.

  For down from inside that chimney came the worst smell Mrs O’Flaherty had ever smelled in her entire life! It was as if someone had made a big auld soup of mouldy cabbages, mixed with smelly socks, mixed that with bits of auld cheese and threw in a rotten egg or two to top it all off.

  ‘Ooooh Lord have mercy!’ said Mrs O’. ‘That would melt the hairs outa anyone’s nose! Trouble! Is that you? Do you need to go outside? Have you been a bould cat, have ya now?’

  She looked over behind the boxes at Trouble, who was shaking his head very quickly.

  ‘Don’t blame me, Mrs O’,’ he thought. ‘I did NOT make that smell!’

  ‘Where is it coming from?’ said Mrs O’, and she looked around the room to see if perhaps there was some old food left rotting in a box, or maybe a wild animal had come in and left a surprise – but no. She saw nothing like that, and the smell did seem to be coming down from inside that chimney!

  Well, next didn’t she do the bravest thing, didn’t she put her two fingers over her nose to stop the smell getting in, and didn’t she stick her head inside the chimney! ‘Let’s take a look,’ she said.

  ‘My Missus O’ is fierce brave,’ thought Trouble.

  No sooner had Mrs O’ Flaherty done this, than didn’t the loudest noise come down the chimney, and nearly knock Mrs O’ to the floor.

  ‘PHHHPARRRRRRRRPPPPPPT!’ went the noise.

  Now, if you press your lips against your arm and blow, you can make a noise just like the one they heard (go on, give it a try so you get the idea ... ok? Done it?).

  Well, the noise from the chimney was like that one, only MUCH, much louder! And, along with the noise came a big blast of air.

  Now I say air, but what I really mean is a wind. And I say wind but what I really mean is a naaaaasty wind that smelled like that cabbagey-smelly-socky-cheesy-eggy soup!

  Next thing isn’t Mrs O’ sitting in a heap on the hearth, with a bit of soot on her face, having been blown out of the chimney. She wasn’t very happy! Trouble crouched down behind his box even more.

  ‘Is there someone up my chimney?’ said Mrs O’ in a stern voice.

  Silence.

  ‘IS there someone up MY chimney?’ said Mrs O’ again, this time in her very stern voice! She held the old broom in her hands tightly.

  Silence.

  Then ‘Phhhrarrrrrrpppht!’ Another smaller blast of the stinky wind.

  And then came a trembling voice from high up in the chimney.

  ‘Y ... y ... yes.’

  Now Mrs O’ got a bit of a fright, as even though she was asking the question, she wasn’t reeeeallly expecting an answer. Nevertheless, she kept calm, and spoke back to the voice.

  ‘What’s your name, then?’ she said.

  Silence.

  ‘What is your NAME?’ she said, and her voice was a little bit sterner. ‘I have a broom in my hands, and I know how to use it if I have to!’

  ‘Mmmm ... Michael,’ said the voice. ‘Mmmmm ... Michael Kelly.’

  ‘Well now, “Michael Kelly”,’ said Mrs O’, ‘you’d better come down now from my chimney so you can talk to me.’

  ‘Oh no, oh no, I can’t, I can’t,’ said Michael, in a very frightened voice. ‘I can never come down again!’

  ‘Don’t be silly!’ said Mrs O’. ‘Why not?’

  Michael started to answer her. ‘Because ... because I ...’ then all of a sudden, ‘PHHHPARRRRRRRPPPPPPT!’

  It ha
ppened again, and a gust of stinky, stinky wind blew down on top of Mrs O’, causing her to cough.

  ‘See!’ said Michael, in a very sad voice. ‘That’s why I can never come down.’

  ‘Are you FARTING up my chimney?’ said Mrs O’, who was now annoyed as the stinky wind had blown more soot on her face and she had two white circles around where her glasses had kept the soot away.

  She looked a little bit like a panda.

  ‘Yes! Yes, I am farting,’ said Michael, and all of a sudden didn’t he start to cry, and his tears began to drip down the chimney too, also on top of Mrs O’s head.

  Now the more he boo-hooed the more he farted and so on and so on so it went like this: ‘Boo-hoo PHHHPARRRRRRRRPPPPPPT sniff, boo-hoo PHHHPARRRRRRRRPPPPPPT sniff, boo-hoo PHHHPARRRRRRRR-PPPPPPT sniff.’

  Now, Mrs O’, as we’ve mentioned, was a very kind lady, and even though Michael was up her chimney, stinky and drippy and had covered her in soot, she felt sorry for him because he was so upset.

  ‘Look, Michael, don’t cry now. You come down here, sit at the table, and I’m sure we can sort all this out,’ she said.

  ‘PHHHPARRRRRRRRPPPPPPT sniff.’ ‘Are you sure?’ said Michael. ‘Are you really sure you will be able for the smell? It’s even stronger when I’m not in the chimney.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure! One moment, I’ll get ready, then you can come down here, sit at the table and tell me your story,’ she said. She looked around, and plucked a clothes peg from a basket and put it on her nose. ‘All right, Michael. You can climb down now,’ she said.

  ‘Oh I don’t need to climb anywhere,’ said Michael. ‘And there’s one other thing I should probably tell you ...’

  Mrs O’ could hear Michael’s voice getting louder. He was coming down the chimney.

  ‘I’m a ghost,’ he said.

  The next thing didn’t Michael Kelly pop right out of the chimney. And he was indeed a ghost! Mrs O’ might have been a little bit frightened at seeing him, if it wasn’t for the fact that she was distracted, as the first thing he did was ‘PHHHPARRRRRRRRPPPPPPT’ and she had to cover her face as it was like a strong wind blowing her hair back.