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Tom
Daly and the Nut-Eating Ghost
traditional
irish story
Tom
Daly lived between Kenmare and Skneem, but nearer to Kenmare, and
had an only son, who was called Tom, after the father. When the
son was eighteen years old Tom Daly died, leaving a widow and
this son. The widow was paralyzed two years before Tom’s
death, and could rise out of bed only as she was taken out, but
as the fire was near the bed she could push a piece of turf into
it if the turf was left at hand.
Tom
Daly, while alive, was in the employ of a gentleman living at
Drummond Castle. Young Tom got the father’s place, as
was the tradition, and he looked on his godfather as he would on
his own father, for the father and godfather had been great
friends always. Tom’s mother was as fond of the
godfather as she was of her own husband.
Four
years after old Tom died the godfather followed him. He
was very fond of chestnuts, and when he came to die he asked his
friends to put a big wooden dish of them in his coffin, so he
might come at the nuts in the next world. They carried out
the man’s wishes. The godfather was buried, and the
bed-ridden widow mourned for him as much as for her own
husband. The young man continued to work for the gentleman
at Drummond Castle, and in the winter it was often late in the
evening before he could come home. There was a short cut
from the gentleman’s place through a grove and past the
graveyard. Young Tom was going home one winter night, the
moon was shining very brightly. While passing the
graveyard he saw a man on a big tomb that was in it, and he
cracking nuts. Young Daly saw that it was on his
godfather’s tomb the man was, and when he remembered the nuts
that were buried with him he believed in one minute that it was
the godfather who was before him. He was greatly in dread
then, and ran off as fast as ever his legs could carry
him. When he reached home he was out of breath and
panting.
"What
is on you," asked the mother, "and to be choking for
breath?"
"Sure
I saw my godfather sitting on the tomb and he eating the nuts
that were buried with him."
"Bad
luck to you," said the mother; "don’t be belying the
dead, for it is as great a sin to tell one lie on the dead as
ten on the living."
"God
knows," said Tom, "that I’d not belie my godfather,
and ‘tis he that is in it; and hadn’t I enough time to know
him before he died?"
"Do
you say in truth, Tom, that ‘tis your godfather?"
"
As sure as you are my mother there before me ‘tis my godfather
that’s in the graveyard cracking nuts."
"Bring
me to him, for the mercy of God, till I ask him about your own
father in the other world."
"I’ll
not do that," said Tom.
"What
a queer thing it would be to bring you to the dead. Isn’t it
better to go, Tom dear, and speak to him? Ask about your father,
and know is he suffering in the other world. If he is we can
relieve him with masses for his soul."
Tom
agreed at last, and, as the mother was a cripple, all he could
do was to put a sheet around her and take her on his back.
He went then towards the graveyard. There was a great
thief living not far from Kemmare, and he came that night
towards the estate of the gentleman where Tom was working.
The gentleman had a couple of hundred fat sheep that were
grazing. The thief made up his mind to have one of the
sheep, and he sent an apprentice boy that he had to catch one,
and said that he’d keep watch on the top of the tomb. As
he had some nuts in his pockets, the thief began to crack
them. The boy went for the sheep, but before he came back
the thief saw Tom Daly, with his mother on his back.
Thinking that it was his apprentice with the sheep, he called
out, Is she fat? Tom Daly, thinking it was the ghost
asking about the mother , dropped her and said, "Begor,
then, she is and heavy!" Away with him, then, as fast as
ever his two legs could carry him, leaving the mother
behind. She, forgetting her husband and thinking the ghost
would kill and eat her, jumped up, ran home like a deer, and was
there as soon as her son. "God spared you, mother,
how could you come!" Cried Tom, and be here as soon as
myself?
"Sure
I moved like a blast of March wind," said the old woman;
"‘tis the luckiest ride I had in my life, for out of the
fright the good Lord gave me my legs again."
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