brung me every one in turn Uncle Jim could sniff out gold and Uncle Jim knew where there were a reef and Uncle Jim knew where there were a herd of unbranded thoroughbreds hidden in a fastness in the bush.
From the day our da died Dan had worn that hurt and angry look he carries to the time of writing but in Uncle James’ shadow he were once again the grand little chap that helped me deliver the butter in Avenel.
Uncle James ate like a horse and the women was happy to feed him. The 1st morning he declared himself too shagged out to work but the 2nd day he went out into the bush with a sledgehammer and a bag of wedges and split fenceposts until dark. That night the sisters was very pleased they filled his glass and their own as eagerly. Then one thing led to another and by the time Sunday come he were chasing my mother around the house in broad daylight and the cows was not milked and I could hear them setting up their fuss. I attended to them while Maggie did the pigs and chickens though she complained there were a great deal too much adjectival laughter coming from the house. Afterwards I washed my hands I heard my mother run laughing to her room. It were by this time almost dusk.
My mother locked her door behind her but Uncle James were not offended and he fetched a chair from the kitchen so he might sit outside her door and sing to her.
Here comes Jack Straw
Such a man you never saw
Through a rock
Through a reel
Through an old spinning wheel
Through a bag of pepper
Through a miller’s hopper
Through a sheep’s shank bone
Such a man was never known
I did not immediately understand the song but my aunts was calling out their comments from the kitchen and soon enough it dawned on me that Uncle James were no different from Sgt O’Neil or any of them men who come knocking at my mother’s door.
Here comes I Jack Straw
With a stick in me hand ready to draw
I had 14 childer born in one night
And not one in the same townland
Then I hated him. I were 13 yr. old my head didnt reach the lowest point of my uncle’s sloping shoulder. Not able to beat him man to man I told him if he come with me I would pour him a big jar of poteen but he were deaf as a dog in the middle of a war and would not be diverted from his lechery.
You put your dirty stick away my mother called.
Uncle James’ beard parted in a grin. My stick is spic and span.
I did not want to hear no more I pulled my uncle towards the kitchen. Its Grandpa Quinn’s poteen I said.
He must of had a quart already for he swung a freckled arm and knocked me against the wall then he spoke directly to my mother’s door.
Begob I’ll put that stick inside your little stove.
I would not permit him to speak thus to my mother so I ran and climbed right up him clamping both my hands onto his beard and then twisting his head like I seen my father bring down calves at branding time. With all my weight on his great hairy head I struggled to settle him.
You mutt he cried striking me across the head so hard I landed on the floor I were winded the sparks flying like blowflies inside my brain.
Then my mother flung wide her door. You leave him alone you effing mongrel.
Whoa Ellen whoa now. He tried to take her by her forearms but she easily broke his grip. Said she I aint a horse.
I rushed him from behind and punched him in the kidney but he swatted me away and pushed my mother back into the bedroom and there he tried to throw her on her bed.
No you aint a horse. You is a bouley maiden.
I knew what this meant as did my mother. The bouley maiden is the cow which will not take the bull. She leapt up at him like a windmill and she were scratching and slapping his face and chest so I took the lower 1/2 from knees to kidneys and when he would not retreat I punched him in the bawbles. He were not our equal he fell he rose he tripped and tangled on himself and backed in defeat towards the kitchen.
Later I saw my uncle sitting on the front veranda it were that time of
From the day our da died Dan had worn that hurt and angry look he carries to the time of writing but in Uncle James’ shadow he were once again the grand little chap that helped me deliver the butter in Avenel.
Uncle James ate like a horse and the women was happy to feed him. The 1st morning he declared himself too shagged out to work but the 2nd day he went out into the bush with a sledgehammer and a bag of wedges and split fenceposts until dark. That night the sisters was very pleased they filled his glass and their own as eagerly. Then one thing led to another and by the time Sunday come he were chasing my mother around the house in broad daylight and the cows was not milked and I could hear them setting up their fuss. I attended to them while Maggie did the pigs and chickens though she complained there were a great deal too much adjectival laughter coming from the house. Afterwards I washed my hands I heard my mother run laughing to her room. It were by this time almost dusk.
My mother locked her door behind her but Uncle James were not offended and he fetched a chair from the kitchen so he might sit outside her door and sing to her.
Here comes Jack Straw
Such a man you never saw
Through a rock
Through a reel
Through an old spinning wheel
Through a bag of pepper
Through a miller’s hopper
Through a sheep’s shank bone
Such a man was never known
I did not immediately understand the song but my aunts was calling out their comments from the kitchen and soon enough it dawned on me that Uncle James were no different from Sgt O’Neil or any of them men who come knocking at my mother’s door.
Here comes I Jack Straw
With a stick in me hand ready to draw
I had 14 childer born in one night
And not one in the same townland
Then I hated him. I were 13 yr. old my head didnt reach the lowest point of my uncle’s sloping shoulder. Not able to beat him man to man I told him if he come with me I would pour him a big jar of poteen but he were deaf as a dog in the middle of a war and would not be diverted from his lechery.
You put your dirty stick away my mother called.
Uncle James’ beard parted in a grin. My stick is spic and span.
I did not want to hear no more I pulled my uncle towards the kitchen. Its Grandpa Quinn’s poteen I said.
He must of had a quart already for he swung a freckled arm and knocked me against the wall then he spoke directly to my mother’s door.
Begob I’ll put that stick inside your little stove.
I would not permit him to speak thus to my mother so I ran and climbed right up him clamping both my hands onto his beard and then twisting his head like I seen my father bring down calves at branding time. With all my weight on his great hairy head I struggled to settle him.
You mutt he cried striking me across the head so hard I landed on the floor I were winded the sparks flying like blowflies inside my brain.
Then my mother flung wide her door. You leave him alone you effing mongrel.
Whoa Ellen whoa now. He tried to take her by her forearms but she easily broke his grip. Said she I aint a horse.
I rushed him from behind and punched him in the kidney but he swatted me away and pushed my mother back into the bedroom and there he tried to throw her on her bed.
No you aint a horse. You is a bouley maiden.
I knew what this meant as did my mother. The bouley maiden is the cow which will not take the bull. She leapt up at him like a windmill and she were scratching and slapping his face and chest so I took the lower 1/2 from knees to kidneys and when he would not retreat I punched him in the bawbles. He were not our equal he fell he rose he tripped and tangled on himself and backed in defeat towards the kitchen.
Later I saw my uncle sitting on the front veranda it were that time of
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