Do you hear
me, Michael Taylor? Give word to your uncle John that, unless he
can lay his hand on her, Nancy will lose her wits.

'It's what she is wanting, is the three islands of Aran for
herself; Brisbeg, that is in Maimen, and the glens of Maam Cross;
all round about Oughterard, and the hills that are below it; John
Blake's farm where she often does be bellowing; and as far as
Ballinamuca, where the long grass is growing; and it's in the wood
of Barna she'd want to spend her life.

'And when I was sore with walking through the dark hours of the
night, it's the coastguard came crying after her, and he maybe with
a bit of her in his mouth.'

The little sarcastic hit at the coastguard, who may himself have stolen
the cow he joins in the search for, is characteristic of Aran humour.
The comic song, as we know it, is unknown on the islands; the nearest to
it I have heard there is about the awkward meeting of two suitors, a
carpenter and a country lad, at their sweetheart's house, and of the
clever management of her mother, who promised to give her to the one who
sang the best song, and how the country lad won her.

Douglas Hyde, who is almost a folk-poet, the people have taken so many
of his songs to their heart, has caught this sarcastic touch in this
'love' song:--

'O sweet queen, to whom I gave my love; O dear queen, the flower of
fine women; listen to my keening, and look on my case; as you are
the woman I desire, free me from death.

'He speaks so humbly, humble entirely. Without mercy or pity she
looks on him with contempt. She puts mispleading in her cold
answer; there is a drop of poison in every quiet word:--

'"O man, wanting sense, put from you your share of love; it is bold
you are entirely to say such a thing as that; you will not get hate
from me; you will not get love from me; you will not get anything
at all, good or bad, for ever."

'I was myself the same night at the house of drink; and I saw the
man, and he under the table. Laid down by the strength of wine, and
without a twist in him itself; it was she did that much with the
talk of her mouth.'

There is another that I thought was meant to provoke laughter, the
lament of a girl for her 'beautiful comb' that had been carried off by
her lover, whom she had refused to marry, 'until we take a little more
out of our youth,