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We received an e-mail the other day from a Pay The Reckoning visitor which reads as follows:
Dear Pay The Reckoning
Thanks for the hard work that goes into maintaining your website. I've got my hands on a number of albums following recommendations in your reviews section and I have to say that your tips have been spot-on.
However, I can't believe that your tastes are so blinkered that you only listen to trad music. Come on, give us a sense of what you listen to when you aren't spinning trad CDs!
Well! There's a challenge. It has to be said that our tastes are fairly blinkered. However here are some of our favourite albums outside of the trad field ...
Steve Earle - Train A-Comin'. After his release from prison Steve Earle brought out this astoundingly good acoustic album. A superb cast of accomplices and some of his most compelling songs, along with a few well-chosen and tasteful cover versions.
Bob Dylan - Good As I Been To You. Dylan covers a range of classic folk tracks in a very pared-down album. His versions of Arthur McBride, Canadee-i-o and Jim Jones are hair-raising.
Bruce Springsteen - Nebraska. Every time we listen to this album (and we listen to it a lot!) we are moved almost to the point of delirium by the quality of Springsteen's songwriting and the sheer honesty and guts of the bare-naked production. Songs such as Highway Patrolman, Johnny 99 and Atlantic City are unflinching, yet utterly compassionate, explorations of the human condition. Everybody who ever has to make a decision which affects the lives of any other human being ought to be compelled to listen to this album!
John Prine - Anthology. It's a bit of a cheat to nominate a "Best Of" in a list such as this. However, Prine's Anthology is exceptionally well-chosen, contains sleeve-notes by the man himself and is one of those albums which has commandeered our attention on many occasions. A singer-songwriter of exceptional talent, Prine has crafted songs such as "The Late John Garfield Blues", "Storm Windows", "Down By The Side Of The Road", "Paradise", "Christmas In Prison" and others too numerous to list which, in our view, rank among the pinnacles of human endeavour. You can keep your Empire State Building, your Great Wall Of China, your manned space missions. As far as we're concerned, Prine's "Speed Of The Sound Of Loneliness" beats all these into a cocked hat!
Thin Lizzy - Dedication. When we were growing up, we hadn't much time for heavy rock such as Phil and the lads were making. Time, however, has woven its spell and this (another greatest hits album) is a frequent visitor to PtR's CD carousel. Heads to the left, dicks to the right and let's ROCK!
PJ Harvey - Dry. We saw PJ Harvey at her first ever London gig and were blown away by the power and intensity of her peformance. We still rate her debut album above all her subsequent work.
Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds - Murder Ballads. Ever since his days with the Birthday Party, we've always had a soft spot for Nick Cave. Granted he's a bit over-fond of melodrama and not to everyone's taste. Murder Ballads is grim and gruesome, but great crack if not taken too literally. The final chapter - a cover of Dylan's "Death Is Not The End", featuring Kylie Minogue, PJ Harvey and Shane MacGowan among others is more affecting than it ought to be. This might well be the song we would like to have played at our funeral!
Leonard Cohen - Songs Of Love And Hate. Difficult to settle on just one Cohen album. However, given that Love And Hate contains "Joan of Arc" and "Diamonds In The Mine", then we'll opt to give this one special mention!
Johnny Cash - Live At San Quentin. The moment when the assembled prisoners cheer and yell as the gravel-voiced troubadour sings "San Quentin I hate every inch of you" never ceases to send chills up and down the spine.
Johnny Cash - American Recordings. Two nominations for the man in black. This is a sterling album and we can still remember the electricity generated by its release. For "Delia" and "Let The Train Blow The Whistle" alone, this album is absolutely essential!
The Undertones - Hypnotised. Their first album may have had a certain naïve charm. However the follow-up is surely power-pop's all-time out and out classic. "Girls That Don't Talk", "Wednesday Week", "There Goes Norman" ... brilliant slices of post-adolescent zit-fuelled angst.
The Pixies - Trompe Le Monde. Those familiar with The Pixies' output might raise an eyebrow at our ranking Trompe Le Monde above some of their earlier albums. However for "U-Mass", "Palace Of The Brine", "Bird Dream Of The Olympic Mons", "Subbaculcha" and their sublime rendition of The Jesus And Mary Chain's "Head On" it gets our vote.
The Clash - London Calling. This album sums up the 1980s for us. A great album which draws on a wide range of influences and established The Clash as one of the most intelligent forces in the music scene of the time.
The Velvet Underground - Loaded. Critics may dismiss Loaded as being pretty lightweight when compared with some of the Velvets' earlier output. We don't agree! "Sweet Jane" for God sake!!
Lou Reed - New York. He lost it a bit. And then - wallop! We'll be listening to this album until we drop. "Romeo And Juliet" and "Dirty Boulevard" are among his best creations.
So, there you go! The blinkers come off occasionally.
Many thanks to Barry Coleman for the following song and accompanying notes. It was penned by Dan Hendron, Barry's maternal grandmother's brother. Dan was born in Derrytagh South (the "Recky"). He was on a prison boat with an old-time Irish republican from the Montiaghs area, JP Kearns, and when freed, married JP's sister, Lizzy and emigrated to the USA where he made his fortune. He was a joiner by trade but was mainly involved in boat/ship building especially in WW2. He died in the early 80's, an octogenarian.
T'WAS ONLY A DREAM I went to sleep when the moon arose And poured its light from heaven, And I dream’t a dream, that so t’would seem, Inspiration that God had given. And I trod again old Armagh’s hill’s, Where the daisies and buttercups glisten And the lark singing there in the clear spring air, And I stop – and I look – and I listen. Och, shure and the Railer looks just the same Where the trees in the breeze keep swayin’ While many old faces have gone their way No sign have they of decayin’ And the mossy bank where Jem and Frank Are cuttin’ while Dan is forkin’ And the old gnarling trees at the front of the hill Where they say there’s a fairy lurkin’ But first a race to Mother’s place To Mother’s, but Mother is missin’ I’m not down there on my knees for prayer, It’s the hearth that she trod I’m kissin’ And the old crab tree at the back of the house Where the blackbird would loudly whistle There as children we played and drew sand in a tin While the old goat chewed on a thistle. The whins by Lough Gullion are out in bloom They’re turning from green to yellow There we used to hunt for the whingray’s nest When I was a little fellow. Then over to Jenny’s where Ned and Jack Spun them fine as a twenty hundred Where they talked and argued and pointed out How the leaders of armies blundered. Then down to the Bann with dog and gun For a crack at the wild fowl passin’ And my heart at ease in the Ulster breeze Though the armies of hate are massin’ Down from the town the steamer comes With propellers loudly churnin’ While over the tips of the Belfast hills The sun spreads his rays to the mornin’ I’m off to town, sweet Portadown With the girl of my youth beside me As we pushed our bikes up Seagoe Hill Sure of other girls she’d chide me. The nursery is there like the day I left With it’s gifts from heaven growin’ The roses there, so rich and so fair Start the heart of a princess glowin’ I stroll again in the market place Where dealers of old have bartered Were I to miss this other bliss I’d think that my soul was martyred. But oh! What’s that, and the train flew past All sentimentality scornin’ And wiped out the trees and the lough and the breeze And the fields, and the cot I was born in.
A bus stop. A stranger sits, chewing a match. Hugh Pat saunters along and joins him.
STRANGER : D'you know what time the next bus is?
HUGH PAT : (eyes the stranger suspiciously) Not from roun' about here, then, are you?
STRANGER : I was once! But I've been glipin' about this many's the year.
HUGH PAT : Oh, aye! Aff makin' your fortune, were you?
STRANGER : A lock o' times over. But I spent the whole damn lot on the booze. Still ... now I'm back, with more money than you could count. That's the ramblin' over, boy!
HUGH PAT : I'm sure!
STRANGER : No. Never again! That's me finished wi' the hoofin'.
HUGH PAT : Good man!
STRANGER : Mind you. See when I got back! I went to this wee pub I used to knock about in.
HUGH PAT : The Corner House?
STRANGER : No. Never mind where.
HUGH PAT : Was it Hugh News's?
STRANGER : Listen, for god's sake. It doesn't matter where exactly. It's jist ... in I walks and says to the woman of the place. "Are you good for the loan iv a few quid for a couple o' drinks. I haven't a roosic on me and me tongue's hangin' outa me with the drooth." Says she "Away to blazes! Sure I could get thon type of custom any damn day."
HUGH PAT : It must have been Kanes, was it?
STRANGER : Shut up now with the where was it business! Anyways. Hand in the oul' pocket and up comes the readies. One, two, three, four ... and so on. Ten sovereigns!
HUGH PAT : Jaysus! She wouldn't have seen the like of thon in a quare day. I'll bet her oul' eyes was near poppin' outa her head.
STRANGER : Like saucers! Anyways. Next thing you know she's going "Oh, we've got great wines and whiskeys here. Don't you be paying any heed to my crabbitness there a wee while back. I was only havin' you on, so I was!"
HUGH PAT : The oul' hypocrite!
STRANGER : There you go!
HUGH PAT : Where're you for now?
STRANGER : Home to see my oul' ma and da. I'm going to tell them that I've been a rip and a hallion. But I'm back now for good or ill. So if they let bygones be bygones, then thon's me! Home! For good!
HUGH PAT : Well good luck, anyhow! And you'll be doin' no more glipin'.
STRANGER : Divil a bit!
There's something about those "stranger" songs and poems ... in a small community, the stranger is very visible. The aura of mystery is almost tangible - sometimes the aura is tinged with threatt, at other times with novelty, possibility, "magic" ... In this new song by Aidan Crossey - yet another which he hopes to record for Humours of Lewisham Volume 3 - the latter angle is explored.
He stood at the bar, like some vision or ghost And drained the remains of his beer He ordered another, and mumbled some toast That no-one was destined to hear And some private memory raised a half-smile As he ordered a whiskey and glanced at the time But there's nowhere to go at a quarter past nine Alone on the edge of the world The footsore and miles-weary traveller won't cease As long as there's road to carry his feet But the road has run out and he faces defeat Alone on the edge of the world He shouldered his fiddle and drew back the bow And the tune spun the thread of his life His glories, his trials, his highs and his lows His triumphs, his trouble and strife The warmth of the whiskey, the smoke in the air His back to the fire, he laid himself bare Not one word was spoke, but a lifetime was shared Alone on the edge of the world The footsore and miles-weary traveller won't cease As long as there's road to carry his feet But the road has run out and he faces defeat Alone on the edge of the world He laid down the fiddle, turned back to his beer This road-weary man from God Knows In the silence that welled like a funeral tear He struggled back into his coat With no road before him and no going back We knew that he'd come to the end of the track He was rolling the credits and fading to black Alone on the edge of the world The footsore and miles-weary traveller won't cease As long as there's road to carry his feet But the road has run out and he faces defeat Alone on the edge of the world With no road before him and no going back We knew that he'd come to the end of the track He was rolling the credits and fading to black Alone on the edge of the world
The irony of exile. The exile thinks he/she can return home some day. But for many, there's no going back. Each day spent away decreases the likelihood of a homecoming still further. Homecoming? Where's home? The place you left, where life has moved on. Home exists only in your memory. Where you visit and realise with a shock that you don't know anyone. And few know you. You stand at the bar like a ghost ...
A new song by Aidan Crossey, which he hopes to record at some point in the next few months. Possibly for The Humours of Lewisham Volume 3, which looks as if it may have more folk and less traditional influences than previous outings. Anyway ... for the meantime you'll have to make do with the words.
red-eyed and bleary, battle-stained and weary i called my first one of the day strung-out and shaking, my poor head aching try to keep the world at bay every twist and turn, hard lessons i have learned weigh heavy on my mind today if i had known before, the stuff that lay in store then i never would have strayed take me home again, kathleen where my heart will feel no pain when the trees are fresh and green take me home again, kathleen an autumn evening, a wake for leaving the whiskey led me to your arms so shy and tender, long-gone september your lips so soft and warm we tripped and stumbled home, along the starlit road i swore i'd write at journey's end but not a word i wrote, no letter, card or note i've not stopped travelling since then take me home again, kathleen where my heart will feel no pain when the trees are fresh and green take me home again, kathleen i never pined for home, since that first day i roamed i'd need a map to find the way but time has beaten me, i once felt fancy free i just feel cast adrift today i wish that evening, when i was leaving you had trapped me in a snare too late i've realised, the gap has grown too wide and i've got no home anywhere take me home again, kathleen where my heart will feel no pain when the trees are fresh and green take me home again, kathleen when the trees are fresh and green kathleen, take me home
I'm a have-a-go hero, but she's out of bounds I just can't defuse the minefield that surrounds I'm head in the clouds, she's feet on the ground I'm not the full shilling, she's sound as a pound Still waters run deep and they don't make a sound Won't you throw me a rope, cos I think I might drown I'm high and I'm lonesome, she's in with the crowd I'd crawl over glass, but she's lofty and proud I'd whisper her name, but she'd scream out loud And I'd walk away, bloodied and bowed But just like the sun, when it's hid in the clouds I'd creep back again and I'd throw off the shroud She's all or nothing, I'm more or less She's always a vision, I'm often a mess She knows the answer, but I always guess She sometimes reveals, I always confess I barely get by, she's a raging success But till I have gained her I never will rest
| Let Me At Him! | Wreck The House | Red Biddy | The Manouevre |
| The Easy-Roused | One-Errand To Town | Shoot The Messenger | The Singing Kettle |
| The Dentist's Chair | The Hindmost | Hippling Home | The Nicotine |
| Shed The Vestments | The Gravedigger's | Chewing-Gum Charlie | The Kneeler |
| The White Wren | The Rendezvous | The Six-Pack | The Gravy Chip |
| The Wasps' Nest | The Skelp | The Right Dunder | The Full Of The Boat |
| The Checkpoint | The Squealer | Say No More! | The Pintail |
| The Ham-Strung | The Dawn Raid | The Spittin' Image | Kitchen Hill |
| The Witch's Handbag | The Knocker | Shillington's Bridge | The Strawberry Nose |
| The Drifting | The Buck-Wire Fence | Is It Yourself? | The Blower |
| The Bitter Pill | The Gully | The Leather Satchel | The Penitential |
| The Inescapable | The Wobbly Bridge | The Chestnut | Nipping At The Trough |
| The Sneakers | The Spartan | The Yankee Doctor | No Word Of A Lie |
| The Impenetrable | Muddy The Water | The Boy Racer | The Hand's Turn |
| The Skite | The Coffin-Nail | The Whole Squad | The Cheeky Imp |
| The Spot Of Bother | Good Man, Your Da! | Over The Bann | The Lump-Hammer |
| The Mischief | The Snifter | Rakin' The Fire | The Floozy |
| The Smattering | The Perspiration | The Honest Endeavour | The Scawp |
| Suckle The Runt | The Hand-Cart | The Sea-Horse | The Long Finger |
| The Sizeable | The Mattress | Full As A Tick | The Footerer |
| The Quare Gunk | The Wise Fool | The Tidy Yoke | The Hourglass |
| The Cudgeller | The Culvert | One Of Us | The Leisurely |
| Joined At The Hip | The Right Comedian | The Pedestal | The Pay-Day |
| The Soap-Dodger | The Hobbit-Botherer | Hell's Teeth | The Thorny Gap |
| The Fly-By-Night | The Sacristan | The Come-To | The Ten-To-Ten |
"There's light left in the day, but damn all in the way o' heat." He pulled the well-worn coat tighter about his time-afflicted frame And sucked mercilessly on the wet end of a ready-made, His fingers stained mahogany, His voice a rasp. "A fine day tomorrow. And thank God for it!" His eyes were drawn to the Lough and beyond, To the waters and the far horizon, Surviving intact while his world was in flitters. "There's not many of the oul' stock left. Jem The Hudder, Brick McGinn Dan the Draper, all took this past year... Jaysus, I can see Brick yet, pushing thon oul' Daisybell up the hill Straight as a rod, he was! Fit as a flay..." And I pictured him, too; The raised finger by way of hello, The wee nod of the head. A civil man, quare an' good-natured. "I've my plot got. Ready for the road, now, son! All it'll take now's the call from above. Yer man has it all writ out for me An' I must be near the end of the last chapter, now. There's not too many in the way of adventures before me!" He footered clumsily for another fag And dragged a match across the heel of the box. It flared and danced a jig in his trembling fingers. "Too many miles on th'oul' clock!" The Park Drive smouldered in his cupped hand. "These damn things ha' me bate! It was the drink, once... I was the divil for the oul' drink. I mind the time I could drain a churn. Now it's all I can do to get a bottle down me, An' maybe a half-un on a good night." He shook his head. "The drinkin'... Aye an' the dancin' forbye! God sakes, boy. I could've danced the legs off myself. Alo McAlinden was the boy for the fiddlin' An' Clem Fagan on the mouth organ. What was it they used to play? The Girls Of Banbridge ... That was a good oul' one. An' The Boys Of Tandragee ... I coorted a Banbridge girl wanst. She was some han'lin, the same blade. A tidy article. But her oul' da was a fierce man an' he chased me the whole cut till Lurgan. True as God! I never seen her again after thon! A tidy article. An' some han'lin!" He smiled a rubbery, toothless grin. "So! Are you for town? Many's the night I dandered up thon road myself. There was some sieges in town, I can tell you! Some drinkin' an' coortin' an' carryin' on. Many's the dig I got at the oul' dances. See thon?" A scar above his right eye. "I got thon one night off a big policeman fornent all hands. He says something or other till me. An' I couldn't bite my tongue. Sure, he was talkin' till a Montiagh man. I wasn't for takin' any oul' back-cheek off any man, police or no. So I answers him back an' gets a slinge off his oul' baton for my bother. Says I - If you were a man at all - aye, or half a man even - You'd put thon oul' stick down and come at me fair and square. An' by God if he didn't think he was man enough for it! An' down went the baton. An' off wi' the oul' policeman's jacket. An' up wi' the sleeves. An' then - Come ahead, country man - says he. Well ... with that I plastered him. One dig - slap! in the cooter. An' he dropped like a stone. The crowd that was with me let a quare cheer out o' them. But when he never got up... Away on their heels! An' who'd blame them... But I sat with him till he came roun' and I helped him up till his feet. Says I - You picked on the wrong fella, there, big man! - An' half-expectin' him till try and ha' me arrested there an' then. But fair play till him, he shook hands wi' me an' said I was the tight man. Sure - I could ha' had him kilt when he was on his oul' back! I never heard another word about it! Not a dicky-bord..." He winced at the memory. "Good times, back then. Hard times, but good. I had the life in me, then, boy! But nowadays I can har'ly get a breath. Not a cutty ... It's a hard oul' station, right enough To get this far and not have the strength t'enjoy your last few days. Gi' us a hand up, there!" My hand in his bony hand; Trembling like a scared pup. "That's the job, boy! You hare away off now to town and have a night to yourself. If I was the age o' you I'd be right behind you. We'd give thon pubs a quare hoakin', all the same. Here ...!" He fumbled in his trouser pocket. "Here! Have a wee drink on me." He pressed a crumpled tenner into my hand. "Go on, now! Damn the drink I can lip these days. Better for the likes o' yourself - A big, roarin' buck that y'are - To get the good of a coul' pint o' porter An' the kick of a half-un o' good whiskey. I'll not hear no off you either!" He shuffled off, Round the bend to home, To sit by the tame hearth And think long thoughts. As day stood down And night-time stood its watch Over the Lough and beyond, The waters and the far horizon, Whose contours never change.
Pay The Reckoning has included this poem because it's the only one of which we are aware, penned by a recognised major poetic talent, which features the Montiaghs ... Besides which, its air of affectionate and wistful melancholy is much to our taste!
The lion stretched like a sandstone lion on the sandstone slab of a bridge with one fixture, a gaslight, looks up from his nicotine-worried forepaw with the very same air my father, Patrick, had when the results came back from the lab, the air of anguish-awe that comes with the realisation of just how slight the chances are of anything doing the trick as the sun goes down over Ballymacnab and a black-winged angel takes flight. The black-winged angel leaning over the sandstone parapet of the bridge wears a business suit, dark gray. His hair is slick with pomade. He turns away as my mother, Brigid, turned away not only from her sandstone pet but any concession being made. The black-winged angel sets her face to the unbending last ray of evening and meets rigid with rigid as the sun goes down over Lisnagat and Listamlet and Clonmore and Clontyclay. Feckless as he was feckless, as likely as her to be in a foofaraw, I have it in me to absolutely rant and rail while, for fear the backlash, absolutely renounce the idea of holding anything that might be construed as an opinion. The lion still looks back to his raw knuckle and sighs for the possibility that an ounce of Walnut Plug might shape up from the ash. The angel still threatens to abandon us with a single flick of her pinion as the sun goes down over Lislasly and Lissaraw and Derrytrasna and Derrymacash.
Paul Muldoon 2001
Pay The Reckoning greatly enjoyed Dermot Bolger's 1990 novel. At first we thought it was the film-noir quality, the urgency and drive, that ensnared our imagination. A closer reading told a different tale. It's because the book is sprinkled with titles of imaginary tunes. The following turn up in the first few pages!
| The Distorted Mosaics | The Hawthorn Bushes | The Isolated Stars | The Crooked Universe |
| The Startled Dogs | The Soothing Grass | The Overgrown Ditch | The Heavy Boot-Steps |
| The Polished Leather | The Skyward | The Thick Moustache | The Arc Of Light |
| The Powerful Drug | The Natural Habitat | The Numb Fury | The Recurring Images |
| The Closed Eyelids | Spraying Gravel | The Unknown Journey | The Fallen Gravel |
| The Parent On The Stairs | The Squad Car | The First Blows | The Beat Of Wings |
| The Tiny Paws | The Coarse Grass | The Dreaming Beast | The High Branches |
| The Dried Bones | The Spell Of The Ditch | The Tang Of Smoke | Leave Me Alone |
| What More Do You Want? | Nowhere To Take You | The Whorl Of Cloud | The Blue Pullover |
| The Numb Fingers | The Black Roads | The Hole In The Corner | The Giant Spider |
| The Wooden Rafters | The Nest Of Ash | The Downy Weeds | The Stone Floor |
| The Broken Gutter | The Sighing Of Branches | The Doorway | Cross The Park |
| The Green Post Office | The Shambling Vaults | The Single-Decker | Beyond The Cemetery |
| The Sanctuary | The Brewery | The Dark Lanes | The Colony |
| The Place Of Streams | The Lost Homeland | The Potato Beds | The Timber Hen-Houses |
| The Sound Of Chicks | The Wire Mesh | The Pigeon Lofts | The Array Of Canes |
| The Concrete Steps | The Littered Bread | The Swarm Of Lads | The Plastic Ball |
| The Stink Of Fish | The Plastic Sandals | The Roll-Call | The Sleepwalker |
| The Motions Of Life | The Ruck Of Hedgerows | The Alder Bushes | The Green Expanse |
| The Children Of Limbo | The Stooping Figures | Among The Hens | The Barking Dogs |
| The Family Rosary | The Copy Book | The Act Of Betrayal | The Milking Shed |
| The Bare Bulb | The Lurching Cow | Perpetual Exile | The Ramshackled Streets |
| The Poisoned Fish | The Square Of Lino | The Crazy Paving | The Grecian Fonts |
| The Frozen River | Eggs In Straw | The Fine Crust | Pascal Plunkett's |
| The Idle Son | The Rubber Boots | The Blue Nights | The Letter Rack |
| The Lilac Bushes | The Ancient Braces | The Blue Moonlight | The Forecourt |
| The Bamboo Stalks | The Silent House | The Stained Oilcloth | The Flaking Paint |
| The Faded Wallpaper | The Bailing Hook | The Lit Windows | The Country Midwife |
| The Carnage | The Swirling Pall | The Final Links | The First Pay Packet |
| The Fading Light | The Night Sailor | The Long Windows | The Smudged Paper |
| The Dead Hand | The Waxed Corridor | The Plaster Statue | The Single Tree |
| The Twilit Laneway | The Donkey Coat | The Blue Overalls | The Wage Packet |
| The Tray Of Pints | The White Dot | The Watered Vinegar | The Unfamiliar Hour |
| The Top Storey | The Abandoned Jail | The Barracks | The Litany Of Names |
| Within One Hour Of Dawn | The Election Leaflets | The Barren Hallway | The Bare Flagstones |
| The Long Benches | The Three Keys | The Old Bicycle | The Inner Office |
| The Morning's Work | The Bowed Heads | The Odd Murmur | The Transfer List |
| The Black Bulb | The Attendance Book | The Pioneer Pin | The Burst Of Light |
| The Dying Rustle | The Read Line | The Leather Jacket | The Nervous Foal |
| The Vacant Seat | Francis Hanrahan's | The Silent Clerks | Dangerous To Know |
| The Radar Dish | The Perimeter Fence | The Landing Lights | The City's Dreams |
| The Check-Point | The Scratched Record | The Burning House | The Belfast Road |
| The Side Road | The Edge Of The Light | The Gas Lamp | The Shed Roof |
| The Leather Belt | The Midnight Escapade | The Petrol Station | The Blue Files |
| The Narrow Canteen | The Garda Sergeant | The Hard Chaws | The Dusty Shelves |
| The Increment Form | The Neat Reports | The Monaghan Accent | The Voter's Form |
| The Surgeon's Knife | The Grand Master | The Inner Circle | The Rathgar Bedsit |
| The Daily Struggle | The Hazy Blur | The Eager Questions | The Job For Life |
| The Baby Power | The Air Vent | The Incinerator | The Rules Of Work |
| The Cramped Office | The Metal Shade | The Golden Rules | The Fatal Mistake |
Poe's gothic, florid tales are a great source of tune titles. For example, the following tunes are harvested from his "The Masque Of The Red Death" which appears in his classic collection, "Tales Of Mystery And Imagination". Needless to say, most of the imaginary tunes enumerated below are in a minor key!
| The Horror of Blood | The Sharp Pains | The Sudden Dizziness | The Profuse Bleeding |
| The Scarlet Stains | The Pest Ban | The Whole Seizure | The Deep Seclusion |
| The Castellated Abbeys | The Lofty Wall | The Gates Of Iron | The Massy Hammers |
| Weld The Bolts | The Impulses Of Despair | The Amply Provisioned | The External World |
| Folly To Grieve | The Appliances Of Pleasure | The Buffoons | The Voluptuous Scene |
| The Imperial Suite | The Straight Vista | The Folding Doors | The Whole Extent |
| The Sharp Turn | The Novel Effect | The Gothic Window | The Closed Corridor |
| The Eastern Extremity | The Velvet Tapestries | The Heavy Folds | The Scarlet Panes |
| The Golden Ornaments | The Heavy Tripod | The Brazier Of Fire | The Tinted Glass |
| The Fantastic Appearances | The Black Chamber | The Dark Hangings | The Clock Of Ebony |
| The Brazen Lungs | The Light Laughter | The Whispering Vows | The Chiming Of The Clock |
| The Magnificent Revel | The Barbaric Lustre | The Movable Embellishments | Glare And Glitter |
| The Arabesque Figures | The Unsuited Limbs | The Delirious Fancies | The Madman Fashions |
| Much Of The Wanton | The Multitude Of Dreams | The Hall Of The Velvet | The Voice Of The Clock |
| The Echoes Of The Chime | The Sable Drapery | The Muffled Peal | The Remote Gaieties |
| The Heart Of Life | The Sounding Of Midnight | The Uneasy Cessation | The Twelve Strokes |
| The Masked Figure | The Buzz | The Assembly Of Phantasms | The Masquerade License |
| The Utterly Lost | Neither Wit Nor Propriety | The Stiffened Corpse | The Closest Scrutiny |
| Detecting The Cheat | The Mad Revellers | The Broad Brow | The Scarlet Horror |
| The Spectral Image | The Solemn Movement | The Strong Shudder | The Blasphemous Mockery |
| The Battlements | The Blue Chamber | The Seven Rooms | The Robust Man |
| The Pale Courtiers | The Rushing Movement | The Intruder | The Stately Step |
| The Closer Approach | The Nameless Awe | The Mad Assumptions | The Prince's Person |
| The Vast Assembly | The Measured Step | The Momentary Cowardice | The Six Chambers |
| The Deadly Terror | The Drawn Dagger | The Retreating Figure | The Velvet Apartment |
| The Sharp Cry | The Sable Carpet | The Wild Courage Of Despair | Seize The Mummer |
| Within The Shadow | The Grave Cerements | The Thief In The Night | The Despairing Posture |
There are any God's amount of songs in the Irish (and English and Scottish ...) traditions about people being whisked off to serve at sea; sometimes, against their will and at other times, though not totally involuntarily, the impression is that circumstances have led them to their choice.
Aidan Crossey has come up with a latter-day reworking of the theme in the piece that follows. Is it a song, or a poem? Aidan tells us that he has a vague tune in mind, but for the moment it'll have to stand on its own as a poem.
The soft summer breeze of evening Is bitter with the tang of the sea And I fear that come the morning The night will make a sailor of me And soon I'll be wearing the sailor's cap And a jacket of navy blue And I'll sail on the Bay of Biscay With the rest of the captain's crew My father's at rest in the haggard He's tired after saving the hay And he's putting a match to his oul' briar pipe His smoke at the end of the day And the news I am grieving to tell him My father already knows "The grim grey sea is calling And wherever it calls, you must go" And he's tuning up his fiddle And he plays a tune, so sad and slow That I hear a tempest gathering In the space between each note And with every rasp of his bowing I hear a drowning man cry Till the breeze from the sea comes between him and me And carries his music away Then he put away his fiddle And sparked up his pipe once again And said "I will give you two bits of advice And I trust that their meaning is plain. Let every sordid betrayal prove There are those that you mustn't heed And welcome each twist of the knife as proof That when opened, your wounds still may bleed" And he picked up again his oul' fiddle And he played me a reel, fast and wild And in it the crash of the surf on the beach And the ebbing and flow of the tide And then, with a full moon above us I started to make my way To the salt, salty sea, a sailor I'd be Afloat on the Bay of Biscay.
The fishermen of Lough Neagh and 'The Wee Lough' (Lough Gullion) talk in nervous whispers about 'the hairy eel'. Albert Parkes, of The Bay, is reputed to have once caught an orange eel. He talks with Jem McAlinden about the orange eel (that 'could've cursed the Pope!') on a recording of a radio programme, originally broadcast many years ago and which was loaned to us by our friend and 'stringer', Oliver Burns of Freecrow.
Aidan Crossey - resident tunesmith of the parish of Pay The Reckoning - has composed tunes which refer to both of these strange beasts (see his slip jig 'The Hairy Eel' and his reel 'Albert's Orange Eel' in Original Tunes.)
However, the fishermen of North Armagh have cause to thank their maker that they haven't encountered the following perverse and portentous fishes:
The Antlered Eel The Narky Eel
The Bloody Eel The Orange Eel (see above)
The Caustic Eel The Poison Eel
The Dry Eel The Quisling Eel
The Elephant Eel The Rancid Eel
The Flying Eel The Stinking Eel
The Ghost Eel The Twisted Eel
The Hairy Eel (see above) The Ugly Eel
The Idle Eel The Venomous Eel
The Jumping Eel The Whistling Eel
The Killer Eel The eXhumed Eel
The Limping Eel The Yapping Eel
The Mangy Eel The Zealot Eel
A fierce day! The road a hob, And Slievemore, beyond, shimmering. "You're fond of the walking!" A corrugated elder smiled ruefully From behind a gimcrack gate. A power of heat in the day, Cathedral-still. The gun-metal sea sparkles to a dusty horizon. Here, a long-abandoned village Slumps at the hill's feet. Stones lie where they fall, Perches for languid sheep. Last night's moonlit stray Would coax smoke from these ancient chimneys. She journeyed unhurried at midnight. Her footprints, dark against the silvered sand, Led to a place without a name. And she without a name also Whose soft words of greeting kindled a spark. Its small warmth smoulders within me yet.
Sean O'Casey is undoubtedly best-known for his outstanding plays (especially Juno and the Paycock, The Plough and the Stars and The Shadow Of A Gunman) which have aged remarkably well.
However Pay The Reckoning has always had something of a gra for his prose works. There are lengthy passages of his Autobiographies where the author who is so direct in his use of language in his stage work, begins to experiment with the effect that his style begins to approximate Joyce or Beckett.
The following titles for non-existent tunes are culled from the first chapter (A Coffin Comes To Ireland) of the second volume of his autobiographies (Pictures In The Hallway). The chapter deals with the death of Parnell and the return from exile of his corpose to his native land.
| The October Sky | The Whole Of Dublin | The Single Star | Into The Darkness |
| The Bitter Rain | The Silent Streets | The Unresisting City | The Oil-Caped Police |
| The Deepest Doorways | The Night Hours | The Slashing Rain | The Pelting Murmur |
| The Glorious Company | The Goodly Fellowship | The Noble Army Of Martyrs | The Guardian Angel |
| The Well-Cocked Eye | The Savage Dance | The Patient Pavements | The SIlken Curtains |
| The Happy-Looking Bed | The Tumbled Curtains | The Muddled Mattresses | The Paltry Calico |
| The Faded Flannelette | The Arms Of Jesus | The Rock Of Ages | The Narrow Sheets |
| The Eyes Of God | The Valley Of Sleep | Johnny In His Skin | The Buff Felt |
| The Inky Imprint | The Stereotypers' Room | The Fire Of The Day | The Little Room Opposite |
| The Fast Sleep | The One Glamour | Mrs Casside | Without Fail |
| The Light Of God | The Fireless Room | The Fine Fire | The Bright Fire |
| The Poor Home | The Shadow Of God's Smile | The Sleepy Eyes | The Dull Glow |
| The Fading Embers | The Dusty Grate | The Naked Shoulders | Nice And Tight |
| The Heavy Eyes | The Dancing Flame | The Troublesome | Dust And Ashes |
| The Sunday School | The Steady Sleep | The Shivery Streets | The Heavy-Hanging |
| The Shadowy Glimpse | The Dark Form | The Sly Dream | The Sleepy Mind |
| The Far-Away Murmurs | The Tiny Glow | The Shovel Of Coal | The Drowsy Stillness |
| The Bright Flames | The Rising Flames | Fix The Kettle Firmly | The Flaming Coal |
| Tug On The Trousers | The Horsehair Sofa | The Stately Seat | The Nettlesome Bed |
| The Patter Of Feet | The Sound Of Voices | Stop Press! | The Hasty Archie |
| Soon Enough | The Noise Of Windows | You Lie Down | Poor Parnell's Dead |
| The Mention Of His Name | A Boo Or A Cheer | Grace And Dignity | Breathe In Peace |
| The First Chance | Whip Up The Cap | The Golden Bowl | The Silver Cord |
| The Wheel Broken | The Mighty Cistern | Fiddling With A Woman | The Anger Of The Righteous |
| The Bad Bugger | The Right-Minded | The Mighty Man Of Valour | The Sour Apple Tree |
| The Bared Teeth | The Clenched Fists | The Safe Distance | The Great Battle |
| The Horney's Hand | The One Man They Had | The Shadow Of Life | The Pillar Of Fire |
| The Protestant Bishops | Wet The Tea | Well Awake | The Electric Car |
| The Unknown Jungles | The Solemn Face | The Breast Of His Coat | The Weekly Cartoons |
| The Generous Denial | MacMurrough Of The Curses | The New Civilisation | The Holy Heathen Irish |
| The Last Words | The Man That Made Them | The Spidery-Minded | The Bible-Basted |
| The Pack Gathered | First Thing | Warm For The Work | The State Of Grace |
| The Righteous Men | Deliver The Nation | Forfeit The Right | Scuts And Schemers |
| The Untidy Look | The Last Link | Salvoes Of Artillery | A Welcome That They Didn't Want |
| The Mudmen | The Madmen | The Badmen | The Bedmen |
| The Deadmen | The Spedmen | The Spudmen | The Dudmen |
| The Tight Hold | The Real Seeds | The Eternal Seeds | The Plan Of Campaign |
| The Big Ear | The Moral Bum | The Impregnable | The Rock Of Holy Scripture |
| The Swine-Hearts | The Nonconformist Conscience | The Impudence | The Slender Finger |
| The Glittering Eye | The Biblical Piety | The New Annunciation | The Westminster Confession |
| The Scandal | The Multitude Of Saints | The Top Storey Of Heaven | Stir Yourslves |
| Drain Out The Bad Drop | The Pool Of Perfect Virtue | The Labour Of Hunting | The Canonised Bowseys |
| Outright And Inright | The Pains And Penances | The Bounding Wave | The Wasteful Knowledge |
| The Mighty Oath | The Arch-Druids | The Law Of None To Be Lit | The Fit Of Fury |
| The Chariot Of Gold | The Chariots Of Silver | The Chariots Of Bronze | The Sudden Jolt |
| The Look Of Dignity | The Herd Of Deer | The Treacherous Varmint | The Philibusterin' Arm |
| Let The Daylight Through | The Holy Saint | The Great Doing | The Decent People |
| Pluck The Shamrock | The Ignorant Noses | The Short Discourse | The Many Trials |
| The Various Vexations | The Joys Of Heaven | The Order Of Merit | The Skin Of Their Teeth |
| Bees Into Butter | Hooking A Cloud | The Wolsey Blankets | The Deserving Poor |
| The Corn-Cub | The Curate | The Bell-Wether | The Bee-Sheep |
| The Chosen Chance | The Chesty Church | The Porbeagle | The Prayer |
| The Penance | The Pokerface | The Pagan | The Pursebearer |
| The Benefit Of Clergy | The Act Of Attrition | The Auto-Da-Fe | Hell-Incised Poverty |
| The Destitution | The Lure Of Life | The Set Of Rosemary Beads | The Joy Of The World |
| The Timely End | The Creeping Host | Easy To Bear | Security Of Tenure |
| Rushing With Money | Collect The Dues | The Coat Of Whitewash | The Decent Clothes |
| The Plushy Broadcloth | The Traces Of Control | Under One Covering | The Quarter Acre |
| The Little Homes | The Crowbar Brigade | The Frosty Road | The Red-Berried Rowan |
| The Scruff Of The Neck | The Seat Of The Trousers | The High-Grade Quarters | St Patrick's Children |
| The Eternal Bliss | Digging A Grave | The Landlord's Door | The Rent-Agent |
| The Weight Of Buckshot | The Hapless Men | Bent On Business | The Mean Musket |
| The Dark Corner | The Windy Nook | The Lowest Channels | The Sea Of Fire |
| The Waves Of Fire | The Loony Surgeon | The Jewel Of The Gaels | The Counsel Of Your Pastors |
| The Withering Advice | The Icy Way | The Awkward Squad | The Grand Name |
| The Past Spare Life | The Lovely Ruins | The Worldly Vantage | The Love Of Cherubim |
| The Service Of Archangels | The Good Greeting | The Prayers of Patriarchs | The Predictions Of Prophets |
| The Preachings Of Apostles | The Faiths Of Confessors | The Holy Virgins | The Place Of Honour |
| The Cold Bannisters | The Imminent Danger | The Gauzy Clothes | The Commissariat |
| The Ceremonial Occasion | The Cosy Corners | The Heavenly Clock | The First Hour Of Eternity |
| The Crayon Drawing | The Menacing Face | The Tumultuous Love | Close To The Fire |
| Hem The Edges | The Sombre Scarves | The Piece Of Cardboard | The Little Table |
| The Several Volumes | The Defiant Sorrow | The Brown Muffler | The Ulster-Coat |
| The Peaked Hat | The Grey Dawn | The Brown Coffin | The Drab Boat |
| The Sea Of Heads | The Rolling Drumbeat | The Voice In The Crowd | The Face Of The Morning |
| The Veil Of Gladness | The Silent Throng | The Rich Banners | The Jewelled Order |
| The Green Banners | The Stricken Host | The Jet-Black Sky | The Broad Border |
| The Silent Stars | The Dead Chief | The Wailing Valour | The Moving Mass |
| The Dimming Pearl | The Dozing Stars | The Wan Hope | The Black Tights |
| The Satin Slippers | The Gilt Buckles | The Velvet Cap | The Velvet Cloak |
| The Silk Shoes | The Blue Silk | The Prison Scene | The Minstrel Show |
| Rattle The Bones | The Coffee Palace | Townshend Street | Tuppence A Week |
| The Boys Of London And New York | The Electric Airship | Archie's Boots | Cooney's Paste Blacking |
| The Green Paper | The Sudden End | The Handcuffs | The House Of Bondage |
| Behind Time | The Hard Words | The Right Sound | The Stately Books |
| The Lone Word | The Frightened Man | The Naked Sword | The Roaring Lion |
| The City Street | The Bare Heath | The Noble Lightning | The Deadly Dawn |
| The Day Of Wrath | Archie Talton | His Sister's Wedding | The Acting Folk |
| The Bailiffs | The Down-At-Heels | The Frayed Shillings | The Mechanics |
| The Well-Soiled | The Tumble-Me-Down | The Perky Face | The Golden Moustache |
| Gone In The Knees | The Jerry Hat | The Golden Curl | The Saucy Away |
| The Roll Of The Ship | The Bender Kite | The Scarlet Fever | The Damask Costumes |
| The Holy Show | Colour And Stir | The Strange Pity | The Coming Event |
| The Crimson Cloth | The Last Look-Over | The Pompous Garments | The Gathering Dusk |
| The Gentle Dusk | The Dismal Darkness | The Sad Light | The Spill |
| The Tantrum | The Sorrowing Mother | The Prime Favourite | The Yellow Shoes |
| The White Collar | Gob-Oil | The Sabre-Cut | Cork Hill |
| The Thoughtful Silence | The Tram Window | The Comical Clothes | The Sound Sleep |
| Swift's Hospital | The City Of Cells | The Urgent Order | The Wildest Wind |
| The Withered Leaf | The Hand-Clasp | Low Treason | The Vanished Frown |
JP Donleavy's cult classic set in Dublin in the 1950's is a well-spring of names for non-existent tunes ...
| The Rare Sun | Clang To The Quays | Tara Street | The Shoeless Kids |
| Wag The Knapsack | The Huge Tubs | The First Bath | Through The Turnstile |
| The Third Class | The Rooms In Trinity | The Laundry | The Tiled Shower |
| Who's Paying? | Visit The Broker | The Electric Fire | Hock The Fire |
| Visit The Parents | On The Moors | The Balscaddoon | Scrabble On The Ceiling |
| Under The Floor | Whatever I've Got | Loaded With Dough | Getting It Steady |
| The Loose Women | Keep A Watch | No More Drink | Over The Weekend |
| Your First Woman | The Steep Hill | Close To The Houses | The Neighbour's Eyes |
| The Flat Water | The Concrete Wall | Within The Doorway | The White Shoes |
| The Tan Trousers | The Bits Of Wire | By All Means | Flush The Toilet |
| Lift The Lid | The Full Stomach | Up To My Eyes | The Conservatory Door |
| Pinch The Leaves | The Dying Plant | Out In The Garden | The Shaggy Grass |
| The Shrill Whistle | The Swells Of Sea | The Narrow Back | Look In The Windows |
| The Blue Blanket | The Patience | The Ragged Edges | The Rowing Blue |
| The Flippant Subtlety | Class Power | The Little Credit | The Shrewd Bastard |
| The Fire In The Stove | We'll See | The Deserted Road | The Counter |
| The Sides Of Bacon | The Basket Of Eggs | The Bright Eggs | The White Apron |
| The Long Counter | The Pursed Lips | Open The Account | The Large Ledger |
| The Monthly Bill | The Cork Gin | The End Of The Shop | Behind The Scenes |
| Take It All | All Smiles And Remarks | The Shocking Fog | The Others Either |
| Carry The Parcels | Up The Hill | Sweep The Packages | The Blue Blood |
| The Cold Front | Not A Word | The English Wives | The Proper Place |
| Snowed Under | The Noble Calling | Flip The Pots | The Maladjusted |
| The Fine Land | The Unnatural Connection | The Little Rest | The Rosy Ideas |
| The Night Before The Wedding | Refuse The Drink | Pleading Poverty | Hold The Chicken |
| On Your Toes | Up The Pole | The Nest Egg | The Law Exams |
| Fill The Bowl | The Night Outside | The Boom Of The Sea | The Angelus Bells |
| Play It Cosy | Marry For Cash | Come In Drunk | The Quick One |
| Another Mouth To Feed | Back To America | The Smack Of The Lips | The Spooky House |
| Constance Kelly | In My Power | Beacon Hill | The Social Ladder |
| The Black Briar | Full Blast | The Kid's Toys | The Impatient Rap |
| The Smudge Of Flour | My Best Accent | Spin On My Heel | The Green Rocking Chair |
| The Wiggle Of Joy | The Hundred Yesses | The Red Tiles | The Kitchen Floor |
| Wave The Fork | The Live Eye | Mad Mick | The Old Slut |
| The Cow's Arse | The End Of The Field | Nudge Her Into The Ditch | Get Her Breathless |
| Three Nights Running | Up To Our Ankles | Knock Her Down | The Tub Of Lard |
| Get The Visa | Touch The Arm | The Beast Of Burden | The Rest Of Me Days |
| Chain Her To The Stove | Marry The Irish | Look For Poverty | Marry Out Of Spite |
| The Matrmonial Column | The Encumbrance | The Man Of Means | The Extensive |
| The Stout Build | The Toasted Bird | The Green Table | The Dripping Breast |
| Rip Off The Legs | The Tremble On The Shelf | The Little Curtains | The Red Spots |
| The Gale Outside | When You Think Of It | My First Chicken | The Night I Left New York |
| Keep The Menu | Around The Corner | The Brown Suit | Away From The Crowd |
| The Print Dress | The Ripe Pears | The Pot Of Gin | Inches Away |
| The Long Cigarette | The White Fingers | The Naval Uniform | White As A Sheet |
| Search The Premises | Room To Room | The Trap Door | Carry The Ladder |
| The Beam Of Light | The Descending | The Footfalls | The Cat With One Eye |
| The Gaping Hole | Mr Gilhooley's | The History Of Death | The Tripod |
| The Brass Telescope | The Lumps Of Stuffing | The Sad Room | The Dark Gloom |
| The Rotten Sills | The Twisted Notes | The Green Pajamas | Old Man Wilton |
| The Free Taxi | Walk The Dales | The Mad Maid | Flowers In The Bed |
| The Blue Night Gown | Cigarettes and Gin | The False Front Teeth | Behind The Dresser |
| Bacon And Butter | The Woolly Rug | The Boston Voice | The Yellow Light |
| Out The Window | The Windy Grass | The Black Rocks | The Wet Steps |
| The Gorse Stumps | The Rusty Heather | The High Water | The Diving Pool |
| The Sleepless Sea | The Jug Of Coffee | Along The Harbour Pier | Kilrock |
| The Granite Coast | The Salty Wind | The Greasy Dishes | The Train Wreck |
| Foot The Bill | The Price Of Death | The Quiet Hotel | The Cool Water |
| The Winter Body | Tight With Money | The Chugging Boats | The Thick Ankles |
| The Wretched Man | The Gray Trap | The Red Candles | Waiting In The Rain |
| The Consulate | The Jewel Among Men | Don't Bother Me | Ass And Money |
| The Top Deck | The Green Sign | The Old Names | The Dreams Of Arrest |
| The Public Nuisance | The Impertinence | Gaskin's Leap | The Fox Hole |
| The Piper's Gut | The Casana Rock | Warmth In The Air | The Biscuit Factory |
| The Quarry | A Nice Hand In Spite Of The Work | The Fast Worker | Kissing A Stranger |
| The Lonely Gent | The Innocent Embrace | The Nice Bosom | Don't Be Rude |
| The New-Warmed Heart | The Torturing Chances | The Smasher | The Haunted Door |
| The House Of Sounds | Bury The Axe | Crowd The Demons | The Little Nightcap |
| The Bible Of Happines | Passion Of The Moment | The Circle Of Hair | The Sea Air |
| The Wet Ghost | The Open Window | The Floating Feathers | The Wild Head |
| Drag The Mattress | The First Impostor | The Good Swig | The Irate Face |
| The Morn Of Chaos | The Fifteen Shillings | Aloft The Gin | The Goat Dance |
| The Brazen Lies | The Sack Of Excrement | The Tattered Underwear | The Nursery Door |
| The Child's Pillow | The Screaming Mouth | The Blackguard | The Wailing Voice |
| The Guilty Heart | The Morning Bus | Clicking The Teeth | The Mud Flats |
| North Bull Island | The Vulgar Blood | Explain The Account | Peaches And Cream |
| Air The House | Out With A Bang | Fairview Park | The Mouldy Blanket |
| The Medicine Chest | The National Library | Amiens Street | The Ostrich Step |
| Talbot Street | The Squinting Eyes | The Toothless Mouths | The Trip Up An Alley |
| The Evil Mind | The American Sailors | The Provocation | The Hundred Churches |
| The Gold Label | Settle The Nerves | Youth On My Side | The Late Twenties |
| The Trying Times | The Stuffed Foxes | The Potted Plants | The Snug Stained Brown |
| Press The Buzzer | The Raw Face | Always Business | The Good Platitude |
| The Accusation | The Milk Money | The Discreet Door | The Decent Weather |
| The Cocktail Cabinet | The Rose Wood Chairs | The Knowledgeable Man | The Botcher |
| Pave The Streets | Me Choosey Soul | The Butt Bridge | The Last Years |
| Merrion Square | Wriggle The Fingers | The American Flag | Cars and Cigars |
| The Receptionist's Desk | The First Taste | The Guillotine | Mr Morgue |
| The Bang On The Desk | The Touch Of Obedience | Charged With Theft | No More Nonsense |
| The Trickle Of Spittle | The Nervous Hand | The White Envelope | The Red Eyes |
| The Folded Hands | The Final Announcement | Twiddle Twat | The Georgian Door |
| Down The Steps | The Rich Green | The Slabs Of Granite | The Celtic Lout |
| The French Horn | The Feeling Of Scholarship | The Back Gate | Close To Learning |
| The Odd Malt | The Bright World | The Lately Dead | Nassau Street |
| The Tweedy Bodies | Kildare Street | The Morning Whiskey | The Badge Of Prosperity |
| The Iron Fence | The Good Purpose | The Yellow Banners | Shoulder To The Wheel |
| Push Like The Rest | Stephen's Green | The Three Penny Chairs | The Rings Of Flowers |
| The Late Trams | The June Morning | The Dusty Stairs | The Rust-Stained Sink |
| The Padding Feet | The Dreary Face | The Empty Eye | The Rancid Butter |
| The Marks Of Teeth | The Spittle Stains | The Self Pollution | Fill The Sack |
Our thanks to Conor Lennon, who's been scanning the oul' internet newsgroups on our behalf to come up with the following nuggets.
The Lurgan Spade 1. In Ireland in the early part of the last century, every district seemed to have a spade of different shape. The town next to my home Portadown, Lurgan, Co. Armagh had a distinctive spade with a very long thinnish face which narrowed to about half its width at the base - known, naturally, as a Lurgan Spade. A common expression in Ireland for someone looking glum and despondent - "he has a face on him like a Lurgan Spade". Maybe some of you snow shovellers should send for one!
from rec.gardens.roses
The Lurgan Spade 2. There is an expression current in Ulster (Geographic term - no political significance) English -- He/She had a face as long as Lurgan Spade. Now people assume that this is a reference to the town of Lurgan in (the wrong end of) County Armagh.
Actually it is a direct translation of the Irish: Bhi aghaidh chomh fada air/uirthi le lorgan spaid! where lorgan is the Irish for handle, and spad (genitive spaid) means spade. So it actually means a face as long as a spade handle/shaft.
Actually Lurgan (Irish An Lorgan) comes from the same word but in this case it has the similar meaning of a long thin ridge.
from soc.culture.irish
And finally ... a piece about that oul' "left-footer/right-footer" conundrum ...
On a visit to the Ulster Folk Museum in Cul Tra, County Down a few years ago I finally learned the origin of the phrase "to dig/kick with the other/left foot".
One of the reconstructed buildings in a spade mill and inside it is an exhibition of spades and sleans (for cutting turf) from all around the country showing common designs and influences of new design. In common with many items of folk craft most areas had traditional spades.
Now the traditional Irish 'slean' only had one 'shoulder' to press your foot on, and so the native Irish dug with the left foot but towards the right and doing most of the work with the right shoulder.
However when the work-ethic-motivated planters arrived they brought their own spades which had two shoulders and were usually used with the right foot. Therefore you could tell someone's background by watching them work.
Of course nowadays most commercially produced spades have two shoulders, but you will still see one shouldered sleans all over Ireland.
It all just proves that the Fenians are left-footers after all!
Now if any of yez have any comments don't get narky with Pay The Reckoning, or with Conor ... the lad's just gathering stuff that's out there and passing it on!
However ... if you want to take issue ... visit PAY THE RECKONING INTERACTIVE and make your comments there!
Our inclusion of a piece by Rabelais a few days ago led to a request from one hapless soul for more of the same. Well! Never let it be said that Pay The Reckoning never gives you what you want!!
This is an excerpt from Chapter 22 of the first book in Rebaleais' series, "The Inestimable Life Of The Great Gargantua, Father Of Pantagruel". The Chapter is entitled "The Games Of Gargantua". Enjoy!
Then blockishly mumbling with a set on countenance a piece of scurvy grace, he washed his hands in fresh wine, picked his teeth with the foot of a hog, and talked jovially with his attendants. Then the carpet being spread, they brought plenty of cards, many dice, with great store and abundance of checkers and chessboards.
There he played
| At flusse | At primero | At the beast | At the rifle |
| At trump | At the prick and spare not | At the hundred | At the peeny |
| At the unfortunate woman | At the fib | At the pass ten | At one and thirty |
| At post and pair, or even and sequence | At three hundred | At the unlucky man | At the last couple in hell |
| At the hock | At the surly | At the lanskenet | At the cuckoo |
| At puff, or let him speak that hath it | At take nothing and throw out | At the marriage | At the frolic or jackdaw |
| At the opinion | At who doth the one, and doth the other | At the sequences | At the ivory bundles |
| At the tarots | At losing load him | At he's gulled and esto | At the torture |
| At the handruff | At the click | At honours | At love |
| At the chess | At Reynard the fox | At the squares | At the cowes |
| At the lottery | At the chance or mumchance | At three dice or manifest bleaks | At the tables |
| At nivinivinack | At the lurch | At doublets or queen's game | At the failie |
| At the French trictrac | At the long tables or ferkeering | At feldown | At tods body |
| At needs must | At the dames or draughts | At bob and mow | At primus secundus |
| At mark-knife | At the keys | At span-counter | At even or odd |
| At cross or pile | At ball and huckle-bones | At ivory balls | At the billiards |
| At bob and hit | At the owl | At the charming of the hare | At pull yet a little |
| At trudgepig | At the magatipes | At the horn | At the flowered or shrovetide ox |
| At the madge-owlet | At pinch without laughing | At prickle me tickle me | At the unshoing of an ass |
| At the cocksess | At hari hohi | At I set me down | At earlie beardie |
| At the old mode | At draw the spit | At put out | At gossip lend me your sack |
| At the ramcod ball | At thrust out your harolt | At Marseil figs | At nicknamrie |
| At stick and hole | At boke or him, or flaying the fox | At the branching it | At the cat selling |
| At trill madam, or grapple my lady | At blow the coal | At the re-wedding | At the quick and dead judge |
| At unoven the iron | At the false clown | At the flints, or at the nine stones | At to the crutch hulch back |
| At the sanct is found | At hinch, pinch and laugh not | At the leek | At bumdockdousse |
| At the loose gig | At the hoop | At the sow | At belly to belly |
| At the dales or straths | At the twigs | At the quoits | At I'm for that |
| At tilt at weekie | At nine pins | At the cock quintin | At tip and hurle |
| At the flat bowles | At the veere and tourn | At rogue and ruffian | At bumbatch touch |
| At the mysterious trough | At the short bowls | At the dapple-grey | At cock and crank it |
| At break pot | At my desire | At twirly whirlytril | At the rush bundles |
| At the short staff | At the whirling gigge | At hide and seek, or are you all hid | At the picket |
| At the blank | At the pilferers | At the caveson | At prison bars |
| At have at the nuts | At cherry-pit | At rub and rice | At whip-top |
| At the casting top | At the hobgoblins | At the O wonderful | At the soilie smutchy |
| At fast and loose | At scutchbreech | At the broom-besom | At St. Cosme I come to adore thee |
| At the lusty brown boy | At I take you napping | At fair and softly passeth Lent | At the forked oak |
| At truss | At the wolf's tail | At bum to buss or nose in breech | At Geordie give me my lance |
| At swaggy, waggy, or shoggy-shou | At stook and rook, shear and threave | At the birch | At the musse |
| At the dilly dally darling | At ox mouldy | At purpose in purpose | At nine less |
| At blind-man buff | At the fallen bridges | At bridled nick | At the white at buts |
| At thwack singe him | At apple, pear and plum | At mumgi | At the toad |
| At cricket | At the pounding stick | At jack and the box | At the queens |
| At the trades | At heads and points | At the vine-tree hug | At black be thy fall |
| At ho the distaffe | At Joanne Thomson | At the boulting cloth | At the oat's seed |
| At greedy glutton | At the Moorish dance | At feebie | At the whole frisk and gambole |
| At battabum, or riding the wild mare | At Hinde the Plowman | At the good mawkin | At the dead beast |
| At climb the ladder Billy | At the dying hog | At the salt doup | At the pretty pigeon |
| At barley break | At the bavine | At the bush leap | At crossing |
| At bo-peep | At the hardit arsepursey | At the harrower's rest | At forward hey |
| At the fig | At gunshot crack | At mustard peel | At the gome |
| At the relapse | At jog breech, or prick him forward | At knockplate | At the Cornish chough |
| At the crane dance | At slash and cut | At bobbing, or flirt on the nose | At the larks |
| At filipping |
After he had thus well played, revelled, past and spent his time, it was thought fit to drink a little, and that was eleven glassfuls the man, and, immediately after making good cheer again, he would stretch himself upon a fair bench, or a good large bed, and there sleep two or three hours together, without thinking or speaking any hurt.
A further tale from the prolific pen of the man known to the wide world simply as Matthew Edwards, but known to Pay The Reckoning as "a chara chairde".
One night during the Emergency years there was, as usual, a lively argument going on in the special writer's and artist's carriage of the Dublin Underground Railway. The writers were complaining about the activities of the Censorship Board, and how it was becoming impossible to earn a living from literature.
James Joyce, who had popped over by submarine from Trieste to check the house numbers on the Vico Road for his new novel, was bemoaning the fact that the only thing the warring nations agreed on was the banning of Ulysses. The now statelier and plumper figure of Gogarty pointed out that the only way he could escape being placed on the Index was to write all the dirty bits in Attic Greek.
At the bar, Flann O'Brien was getting extremely drunk, again, thanks to the barman allowing him three drinks for the price of one in consideration of his Triune identity. He was trying to jot down a note on the back of his ticket for a pun on Greeks in the attic to use in his novel.
Sean O'Faolain complained about the stagnant state of Irish culture, and illustrated his remarks by pointing to the pools of Guinness spreading across the floor: "That's Irish writing today for you; a stain on the floor of a railway carriage." Young Brendan Behan cheered and shouted, "Up the IRA!" All the others glared at him, and wondered who had let him in as he hadn't written anything yet. However a minor Joyce brother murmured that he was so-and-so's nephew, and anyway he could sing a bit.
After a while a general agreement began to emerge that being banned by the Board conferred an élite status on those writers. Consequently Gogarty was elected spokesman to approach the Managing Director of the Railway, Mr L.H.Corner, with a view to securing a private compartment, with a bar, restricted for the use of banned writers.
At this, Brendan Behan, who didn't want to be left out of anything, leaped out of the carriage at Emmet Station and scribbled a rude song on the walls (in both Gaelic and English as prescribed by Regulation 42 Ch.11 sect.xlvii of the Railway), and signed his name below. He was duly banned by the Censorship Board the following day, and thus he became the first author to be prohibited without having anything of his published.
Of course musicians were also allowed on the Dublin Underground, or the Four-Cornered Railway as it was popularly known afer the four brothers Corner who constituted the Board of Directors. Indeed there was one memorable night involving Margaret Barry and a bicycle...but thats a story for another day. (However if you can't wait, then click here!)
Matthew Edwards is a great advocate of a wee book called "The Tailor And Ansty". Here, in his own words, is his explanation of the book's merit:
The Tailor was Tim Buckley, who lived with his wife, Ansty, in Gougane Barra. He was a great storyteller, Irish speaker, and a singer as well. A number of people used to visit him to hear his stories, and to learn Irish from him, and some of these became great friends with him, including Frank O'Connor the short story writer and translator. Eric Cross wrote down some of the Tailor's stories, and this was published in 1942 as The Tailor and Ansty. The book was banned by the Irish Government of that time as being "in its general tendency indecent". The records of the Irish Senate debates over the banning of this book have themselves been struck from the record lest pornographers would buy the proceedings and peddle them to deprave and corrupt the youth of the nation.
It has been said that the list of books banned by the Irish Censorship Board constitutes an excellent guide to the world's greatest literature, but while most authors could treat such ridiculous attitudes with the contempt they deserved, the effect on the Tailor and Ansty in Gougane Barra at that time was devastating. For telling old stories with a Rabelaisian relish, he and his wife were shunned by their neighbours, condemned by the church and isolated from their friends.
Times have changed since then and the book has been openly sold in Ireland for many years. Read it for a wonderful account of a great couple who brought light and laughter into the lives of many.
"Take the world fine and aisy and the world will take you fine and aisy" The Tailor
And here, to prove Matthew's point, are two tales from the book.
The Catspaw Candelabrum
Did you know that it was because of the instinct of an animal that the indigo dye first came to Ireland?
I'll tell you the history of it, and divil a lie is there in it, though most people won't give in to it.
Years ago there was a boat came into Bantry harbour, and the captain of it came into the town. He was on his way from India. He had a few drinks and fell into conversation with some of the people in the town, and got intimate with them.
He was a decent, conversible type of man, and, as the evening was coming, they asked him to play a game of cards, and he said that he would as he was staying the night anyway. They were playing for some time and the light was failing as the night came. One of them lit a piece of a candle and put it on the table. But with the banging and the thumping of the cards in the excitement of the play the candle kept falling down.
Then one of them said that he would go and look for a sconce, but the captain of the boat said 'No', for he had a better sconce than any one they could find in Bantry town.
He had a bag with him, and he pulled the bag from under the table and took out a cat. He put the cat sitting at one end of the table and put the candle between his paws. It was one of the neatest bits of business you ever set eyes on. All the town came in to look at it, for they had never seen the likes before.
The captain explained to them that he had trained the cat in this business, for when they were playing cards in the Indian Ocean there were terrible rough seas, and no candle would stand up for them.
All the town marvelled except one man, who said that it was well enough, and he had admiration enough for the captain and for his cat, but that nature was a greater thing than training. The two started an argument, and they almost came to blows. Then they decided to bet a wager on who was right. The captain bet a cargo of indigo blue that learning was greater than nature, and the man from Bantry bet a farm of land that nature was stronger than learning.
They carried on with the game, and when it was over, the captain put his cat into the bag and went away with himself to bed. He stayed the following day, and that night they all played cards again, and the cat was at the end of the table with the candle between his paws.
The man who had the wager bet with the captain was playing too, and half-ways through the game he took a mouse out of his pocket and put it on the table. As soon as the cat saw it he dropped the candle and chased the mouse, and the man from Bantry won his wager and proved that nature is stronger than learning. The captain paid him the cargo of indigo dye, and that was how the indigo first came to this country.
And secondly
Johnny Jerry's Sow And The Eel
There are people who walk through the world who see nothing and hear nothing and learn nothing and know nothing. I don't know why they are alive at all. There are animals learn quicker and have more sense than a deal of human beings.
I saw a curious thing in this line myself a few years ago. Did you ever know that a sow is a very intelligent animal?
I was on the road to this side of Turendubh. There is a pool there at the side of the road, and a 'johnny the bog' had caught an eel in the pool and was swallowing him. The 'johnny the bog' is a strange kind of bird. He has only a straight gut.
Well, he was swallowing the eel and he wasn't making much of a hand at the business, for the eel ran straight through him, and the 'johnny the bog' kept swallowing him and losing him again.
Johnny Jerry had a sow at that time and she was always on the side of the road. She came along and she stood for a while and watched the 'johnny the bog' go through the performance several times. Then she made a grab for the eel herself and swallowed him and clapped her backside up against the wall!
Now wasn't she a cute and a quick scholar? Yerra, don't be talking. A man can see a new wonder every minute of the day, if only he has the intelligence to know a wonder whe he sees one.
We drew our readers' attention earlier to Matthew Edwards' fictional Dublin Underground Railway (see here).
Well here we let the man himslef give us a bit more of an insight into this fabulous (in both senses of the word!) piece of engineering prowess.
I should like to acknowledge my debt to Miles Kington, who previously chronicled some accounts from the history of the Dublin Underground Railway. These can be found in the 1978 issues of Richard Boston's sadly defunct ecological magazine Vole. However Kington's reseaches were incomplete, and it has recently become possible to unearth more about the origins of the Railway.
The initial diggings for the Railway were made in the 1870's, as part of a grandiose plan to raise Dublin's status as a city of the British Empire. Works were abandoned however, in the 1880's, during one of the Stock Exchange's periodic Panics - and, it is said, in reaction to the Phoenix Park atrocity. The project was raised and dropped several times during the Home Rule debates, but was finally abandoned altogether on the fall of Parnell. It was only in 1911, under Asquith's Liberal Government, and with the support of Redmond's Irish Party, that serious working was resumed. The Railway was almost complete in August 1914 when the outbreak of war forced the postponement of the opening ceremonies.
However the existence of an unused railway line running below the streets of Dublin was well known to some of the leaders of the Easter Rising. In particular, some of the volunteers in Connolly's Irish Citizens Army had been recruited to work on the Railway, and knew its layout well. It is certain that some plans did exist to make use of the Railway during the Rising, and Roger Casement appears to have been involved in a plan to smuggle a train on to the line.
There is an obscure reference in the Black Diaries of Roger Casement to a dream of "a train penetrating a dark tunnel in Dublin", which scholars have generally dismissed as a standard homoerotic image, and probably a forgery at that. However there is a fragment of a ballad, to the tune of "Spanish Lady", which suggests that there may be some basis to the story:-
"As I rode to Dublin City, At twelve o'clock on Easter night, Who should I meet but Roger Casement, Driving a train to join the fight."
What is definite is that the British Government did not stand by its promise to open the Railway after the War. Instead, during the War of Independence from 1919-1921, the Railway was extensively used by Michael Collins and his Squad. In the meantime Ned Broy in Dublin Castle was somehow able to conceal from his nominal employers all the records relating to the Railway, and substituted some inaccurate plans in their place.
The confusion of the times is captured in a story told by one of Collins' Volunteers many years later. Frank O'Connor came across the tale while writing his biography of Collins "The Big Fellow". As he was unable to corroborate the story he decided not to use it in his book, but he used to recount it in private with great flair.
One night a team of detectives from Dublin Castle believed that they had found a secret entrance to the Railway, and they descended through a manhole in Sackville Street. Unfortunately for them this actually led to the main Dublin sewer, which Collins, who was aware of their activities, was able to control. At a given signal he ensured a mass release of the chamber pots and lavatories of Dublin, so that the detectives were swept away in a flood of the most noxious effluvia. They emerged in the Liffey, amid a stinking tidal wave. As they climbed up a ladder to the quayside, a passer-by, who could smell them long before they were visible, called out: "Youse boys must surely love your food to swim in it after you've eaten it and shat it out!"
The detective team crept back to the Castle to be hosed down. They were forever after known, behind their backs, as "The Brown and Tans."
Pay The Reckoning owe a big debt of thanks to Matthew Edwards for supporting us by allowing us to reprint some of his huge store of stories, all of which are pretty much right up Pay The Reckoning's street. (Anybody else detect a touch of a latter-day "Cruiskeen Lawn" about Matthew's output?)
Anyway ... here's another yarn for you courtesy of the boul' Matthew.
The Dancing Cat
A long time ago in West Kerry, there was a wonderful house-party going on one night.The fiddler's elbows were racing up and down as he played The Gander in the Pratie Hole,The Pratie in the Gander's Hole, and the whole of Bridie's Granda's set.
The drink was flowing freely; the half-door was off its hinges, and one old fellow was stepping away neatly on it. Couples were reeling across the floor, while some others were actually dancing.
Up in the loft two cats were looking down on the scene; the first one became so carried away by the music that he started to dance. He leaped into the air, and performed the neatest little entrechat you ever saw. Says the second cat, "I didn't know you were into all this trad stuff."
"Oh yes," replies the first one "You see it runs in the family. My old man gave his guts for the fiddle."
After the session was finished, and the sun was coming up over the hills, at last the fiddler gets home, and says; "You'll never believe what happened tonight. I saw two cats, and they were talking to each other."
"Nonsense," says his dog, "Everyone knows cats can't talk."
Pay The Reckoning have a great deal of time for the works of Rabelais, that mischievous monk who wrote his fine works concerning the deeds and sayings of the imaginary giants Gargantua and Pantagruel in the middle of the sixteenth century. The following list, extracted from the second of Rabelais' works "Pantagruel, King of the Dipsodes, with his heroic acts and prowesses" is a catalogue of the books in the imaginary library of Saint Victor in Paris ... (Now doesn't this whole premise remind anyone of Pay The Reckoning's obsessive interest in listing titles for imaginary tunes?)
The translation is by Sir Thomas Urquhart and Peter Motteux.
Much of the Latin is codology. Where Urquhart and Motteux have provided translations for titles of the library's books which are expressed in proper Latin, Pay The Reckoning have included these.
| The Two-Horse Tumbrel of Salvation |
| The Codpiece of the Law |
| The Slippers or Pantofles of the Decretals |
| The Pomegranate of Vice |
| The Clew-Bottom of Theology |
| The Duster or Foxtail-flap of Preachers, composed by Turlupin |
| The Churning Ballock of the Valiant |
| The Henbane of the Bishops |
| Marmotretus De baboonis et apis, cum Commento Dorbellis |
| Decretum Universitatis Parisiensis super Gorgiasitate Muliercularum ad Placitum (Decree of the University of Paris which permits young ladies to bare their throats at will) |
| The Apparition of Sanct Geltrude to a Nun of Poissy, being in travail at the bringing forth of a child |
| Ars Honeste Fartandi in Societate per Marcum Ortuinum (On the Worthy Art of Genteel Farting by Marcus Orthuinus) |
| The Mustard-pot of Penance |
| The Gamashes alias the Boots of Patience |
| Formicarium Artium (The Ant-Heap of the Arts) |
| De brodiorum Usu, et Honestate Chopinandi, per Sylvestrem Prioratem Jacobinum (On the Use of Soups and on the Worthiness of Tippling, by Sylvester de Priero, Jacobin) |
| The Cuckold in Court |
| The Frail of the Scriveners |
| The Marriage-packet |
| The Crucible of Contemplation |
| The Flimflams of the Law |
| The Goad of Wine |
| The Spur of Cheese |
| Decrotatorium Scholarium (On the Brushing Up of Scholars) |
| Tartaretus De Modo Cacandi (Tartaret, On the Ways of Going to Stool) |
| The Bravades of Rome |
| Bricot De Differentiis Browsarum (Bricot, On the Variations within Soups) |
| The Tail-piece-Cushion, or Close-breech of Discipline |
| The Cobbled Shoe of Humility |
| The Trivet of Good Thoughts |
| The Kettle of Magnanimity |
| The Cavailling Intanglements of Confessors |
| The Curate's Rap over the Knuckles |
| Reverendi patris fratris Lubini, provincialis Bavardiae, De gulpendis Lardslicionibus, libri tres (Three books of the Reverend Father Brother Lubin, Provincial of Chatter-land, On Gobbling Up Rashers of Bacon) |
| Pasquili Doctoris Marmorei, De Capreolis cum Artichoketa Comedendis tempore Papali ab Ecclesia interdicto (Pasquin, the marble doctor, On Eating Kids prepared with Artichokes, during the Ecclesiastically Proscribed Papal Season) (Pasquin refers to a statue in Rome, to which were affixed lampoons against prominent persons, from which our word pasquinade.) |
| The Invention of the Holy Cross, personated by six wily Priests |
| The Spectacles of Pilgrims bound for Rome |
| Majoris De Modo Faciendi Puddinos (Major, On How to Make Puddings) |
| The Bagpipe of the Prelates |
| Beda De Optimitate Triparum (Bede, On the Absolute Perfection of Tripes) |
| The Complaint of the Barristers upon the reformation of Comfites |
| The Furred Cat of the Solicitors and Attornies |
| Of Peas and Bacon, cum Commento |
| The Small Vales or Drinking Money of the Indulgences |
| Praeclarissimi juris utriusque Doctoris Maistre Pillotti, &c., Scrapfarthingi De Botchandis Glossae Accursianae Triflis Repetitio Enucidiluculidissima (The overwhelmingly clear exposition, by the most renowned Doctor of Laws, Master Pilotus Scrapfarthing, Of the Patching Up of the Fiddle-faddle of the Gloss of Accursius) |
| Strategemata Francharchieri de Baniolet (The Wiles of the Franc-Archers of Baniolet) |
| Franctopinus or Churlbumpkinus, De Re Militari cum Figuris Tevoti (Military Manual with diagrams by Tevot) |
| De Usu et Utilitate Flayandi Equos et Equas, authore Magistro nostro de Quebecu (Treatise on the Custom and Benefit of Flaying Horses and Mares, written by Our Master of Quebec) |
| The Sauciness of Country-Stewards |
| M. N. Rostocostojambedanesse De Mustarda Post Prandium Servienda, libri quatuordecim, apostilati per M. Vaurillonis (Fourteen books by Master Rostocostjambedanesse, On Serving Mustard after Dinner, annotated by Master Vaurillon) |
| The Couillage or Wench-tribute of Promoters |
| Jabolenus De Cosmographia Purgatorii (Jabolenus, The Cosmography of Purgatory) |
| Quaestio Subtilissima, utrum Chimaera in vacuo bombinans possit comedere secundas intentiones; et fuit debatuta per decem hebdomadas in Consilio Constantiensi (On the most subtle question: Whether a Chimaera, humming in the Void, is able to eat Second Intentions [the Reflex Universal], debated over a period of ten weeks by the Council of Constance) |
| The Bridle-champer of the Advocates |
| Smutchudlamenta Scoti (The mumblings of Scotus) |
| The Rasping and Hard-scraping of the Cardinals |
| De Calcaribus Removendis, Decades undecim, per M. Albericum de Rosata (One hundred and ten volumes by Master Alberic, On the Art of Keeping your Spurs clear of the Horse's Flanks) |
| Ejusdem De Castrametandis Criminibus libri tres (Three books by the same author, On Camping in the Hair [Criminbus should read crinibus]) |
| The entrance of Anthony de Leve into the territories of Brazil |
| Marforii, bacalarii cubantis Romae, De Peelandis aut Unskinnandis Blurrandisque Cardinalium Mulis (Treatise of Marforio, Bachelor of Arts, who rests at Rome: On the Manner of Adorning and Rigging-out the Cardinals' Mules.) [Marforio's statue lies on the ground in one of the courts of the ancient Capitol.] |
| The said Author's Apology against those who allege that the Pope's mule doth eat but at set times. |
| Prognasticatio quae incipt, Silvii Triquebille, balata per M. N. the deep dreaming gull Sion (A Forecast, which begins Silvii triquebille, bleated out by Our Master Songecreux.) |
| Boudarini Episcopi De Emulgentiarum Profectibus Enneades novem, cum privilegio Papali ad triennium, et postea non. (Bishop Boudarin: Ninety-one books, On the Profits of Milking [Indulgences], with a Papal privilege limited to three years) |
| The Shitabrenna of the Maids |
| The Bald Arse or Peeled Breech of the Widows |
| The Cowl or Capouch of the Monks |
| The Mumbling Devotion of the Coelestine Friars |
| The Passage-toll of Beggarliness |
| The Teeth-chatter or Gum-diddler of Lubberly Lusks |
| The Paring-shovel of the Theologues |
| The Drenching-horn of the Masters of Arts |
| The scullions of Olcam the Uninitiated Clerk |
| Magistri N. Lickdishetis, De Garbellisiftationibus Horarum Canonicarum, libri quadraginta (On Giving the Canonical Hours the Once Over, forty books by Professor Lickdish) |
| Arsiversitatorium Confratriarum, incerto authore (The Overthrow of the Confraternities, author unknown) |
| The Rasher of Cormorants and Ravenous Feeders |
| The Rammishness of the Spaniards supercoquelicanticked by Friar Inigo |
| The Muttering of Pitiful Wretches |
| Dastardismus Rerum Italicarum, authore Magistro Burnegad (The Torpor of Italian Affairs, by Master Brulefer. The original text reads Poltronismus.) |
| R. Lullius De Batisfolagiis Principum (Raymond Lullus, On the Trivial Occupations of Princes) |
| Calibistratorium Caffardiae, authore M. Jacobo Hocstraten hereticometra (Calebistris : the female sexual organs; caffardiae : canting; Master Jacob Hoogstraaten, "expert in taking the measure of heretics") |
| Codtickler, De Magistro nostrandorum Magistro nostratorumque Beuvetis, libri octo galantissimi (Eight very elegant books by Codtickler: On the Tap-rooms of the Doctors of Theology and Doctoral Candidates) |
| The Crackarades of Bullist or stone-throwing Engines, Contrepate Clerks, Scriveners, Brief-writers, Rapporters, and Papal Bull-de-spatchers, lately compiled by Regis |
| A perpetual Almanack for those that have the gout and the pox |
| Manera sweepandi fornacellos per Mag. Eccium (On How to Sweep Out Chimneys, by Master Eccius) |
| The Shable, or Scimitar of Merchants |
| The Pleasures of the Monachal Life |
| The Hodge-podge of Hypocrites |
| The History of the Hobgoblins |
| The Ragamuffianism of the pensionary maimed soldiers |
| The Gulling Fibs and counterfeit Shows of Commissaries |
| The Litter of Treasurers |
| The Juglingatorium of Sophisters |
| Antipericatametanaparbeugedamphicribrationes Toordicantium |
| The Periwinkle of Ballard-makers |
| The Push-forward of the Alchemists |
| The Niddy-noddy of the Satchel-loaded Seekers, By Friar Blindfastatis |
| The Shackles of Religion |
| The Racket of Swaggerers |
| The Leaning-stock of old age |
| The Muzzle of Nobility |
| The Ape's Paternoster |
| The Crickets and Hawks Bell of Devotion |
| The Pot of the Ember weeks |
| The Mortar of the politic life |
| The Flap of the Hermits |
| The Riding-hood or Monterg of the Penitentiaries |
| The Trictracof the Knocking Friars |
| Blockheadodus, De vita et honestate bragadochiorum (Blockhead's treatise, On the Life and Worthiness of Fops) |
| Lyrippii Sorbonici Moralisationes, per M. Lupoldum (Moral Reflections of a Liripoop, by Master Lupoldus.) [Liripoop : a graduate's hood] |
| The Carrier-horse bells of Travellers |
| The Bibbings of the tippling Bishops |
| Tarrabalationes Doctorum Coloniensium adversus Reuchlin (Uproar by the Doctors of Cologne against Reuchlin) |
| The Cymbals of Ladies |
| The Dungers' Martingale |
| Whirlingfriskorum Chasemarkerorum per Fratrem Crackwoodloguetis |
| The Clouted Patches for a Stout Heart |
| The Mummery of the Racket-keeping Robin-good-fellows |
| Gerson, De Auferibilitate Papae ab Ecclesia (Gerson, On the Right of the Church to Depose the Pope) |
| The Catalogue of the Nominated and Graduated Persons |
| Jo. Dytebrodii, De Terribilitate Excommunicationum libellulus Acephalos (On the Frightfulness of Excommunication, a short treatise without a Preface, by John Ditebrodius.) [Acephalos : without a head; i.e. brainless] |
| Ingeniositas Invocandi Diabolos et Diabolas, per M. Guingolphum (On the Art of Calling Up He-Devils and She-Devils by Guingolfus) |
| The Hotch-potch or Gallimaufry of the perpetually begging Friars |
| The Morris-dance of the Heretics |
| The Whinings of Cajetan |
| Muddisnout Doctoris Cherubici, De Origine Roughfootedarum, et Wryneckedorum Ritibus, libri septem |
| Sixty-nine fat Breviaries |
| The Night-Mare of the five orders of Beggars |
| The Skinnery of the new Start-ups, extracted out of the fallow-butt, incornifistibulated and plodded upon in the angelic sum |
| The Raver and idle Talker in cases of Conscience |
| The Fat Belly of the Presidents |
| The Baffling Flowter of the Abbots |
| Sutoris Adversus quendam qui vocaverat eum Slabsauceatorem et quod Slabsauceatores non sunt damnati as Ecclesia (Sutor: Against a certain person who called him a Slabsauce-eater, and that Slabsauce-eaters are not condemned by the Church) |
| Cacatorium Medicorum (The Doctors' Chamber-pot) |
| The Chminey-Sweeper of Astrology |
| Campi clysteriorum per S. C. (The Fields of Enemas by S. C.) [Symphorien Champier] |
| The bumsquibcracker of Apothecaries |
| The Kissbreech of Chirurgery |