Compare with this the wardrobe of her seducer which would contain brightly painted ties (all bought in a shop), trousers of an alien style, shirts of a sordid cut, and shoes of a hitherto unseen mode. The man’s name was Horace.
Thus it was that playing his melodeon and providing her with deceitful music he led her like the Pied Piper to Glass-green.
Imagine, however, the consternation of the blacksmith and his spouse. Day after day he would lift his hammer and not even hit the anvil with it. Sunk into depression, his stalwart arms rapidly losing their strength, he sank into an early grave and his wife did not outlive him long. O Murdina, how hapless your expedition to the metropolis! Hapless indeed our lives unless we obey our parents. Where she expected a mansion she was led at last into a small room which contained one bed, a gas cooker, a cupboard and not much more. But the tears she shed that evening were more than compensated for by the dallyings of her lover, whose moustache brushed her mouth as he yawned copiously through the long night.
So she began to visit dens of iniquity. Psychedelic were her days and drugged her evenings. The water of the earth did not suffice her but she must be stayed by beverages unknown to her parents. Ravaged by music which stole her soul away she would sing in these same dens of iniquity intertwined with her lover. But sorrowful too were her thoughts for her lover had not as much money as would sustain her wicked delights, such as splendid clothes and furniture of a rare ilk. Thus one night when he was sleeping the sleep of the sinful, she stole from his small den taking with her his pocket book, a number of his ties (which she hoped to sell) and a diamond necklace which he said he had got from his mother, long under the sod in his native Donegal.
With these, she found herself another protector who was in the habit of giving room to a number of girls who had nowhere else to go. Laudable and charitable as this was, we must however acknowledge that his mode of living was not what one would require from a godly man, for he was not above sending these girls out into the cold to hold converse with strangers such as seamen, foreigners, and persons of diverse vices.
Thus passed her nights and her days, yearning as she said for the innocent pleasures of Raws, with its limpid streams, and its snow-covered bens.
One night the island came to her as in a vision. She saw it, as it were, clearly delineated on the walls of her luxurious room, and she heard in her ears the sound of its innumerable waves. In the morning she arose, put on her new-bought furs, and set off to find the mode of transport which would take her to her home. In the carriage were many young men who (on hearing of her adventures) were desirous to approach with many friendly overtures and those she was not loathe to deny, only saying that she would bring them to her house. She handed out to them with much magniloquence cards which showed both her own and the name of her house.
Arrived in Raws, she was welcomed with open arms by those who saw in her the penitent returned with her spiritual gains. This gave no small encouragement to the indigenous folk for it showed them that they themselves might do what she had done. She set up house in Raws and many were the guests who came to her house. Indeed it can safely be said that hers was the most popular house in the island, and not until the early hours of the morning did her visitors depart, fortified by her conversation and her kindly dalliance.
Often with tears she would lay a wreath of orchids on the graves of her parents and caused a marble monument to be built to them on which she had carved these words: ‘Gone Before, But not much Before.’
So she lived to a good old age, providing pleasure and benefit to all and had no cause to regret the day she had left Glass-green for as she herself once remarked in one of her more serious moments, ‘The competition here is not so fierce as in the wicked world of the south.’
Thus, therefore, is told the legend of Murdina who from being an apple-cheeked girl became a dowager of the neighbourhood, contributing much tablet to the local sale of work as well as many cast-off dresses some of which are to be seen to this day in colours like purple and pink.
It is easy to see therefore that those who leave these beautiful islands with their lovely airs and golden sands always have the urge to return as she did, happy in that they have abandoned the snares and competition of the metropolis.
The Wedding
It was a fine, blowy, sunshiny day as I stood outside the church on the fringe of the small groups who were waiting for the bride to arrive. I didn’t know anybody there, I was just a very distant relative, and I didn’t feel very comfortable in my dark suit, the trousers of which were rather short. There were a lot of young girls from the Highlands (though the wedding was taking place in the city) all dressed in bright summery clothes and many of them wearing corsages of red flowers. Some wore white hats which cast intricate shadows on their
