Mam and Bridey sit so close to the fire their shins turn red and
purple and blue.They talk for hours and they whisper and laugh over
secret things. Were not supposed to hear the secret things so were
told go out and play. I often sit on the seventh step listening and
they have no notion Im there. It might be lashing rain out but
Mam says, Rain or no, out you go, and shell tell us, If you see your
father coming, run in and tell me. Mam says to Bridey, Did you
ever hear that poem that someone must have made up about me
and him?
What poem,Angela?
Tis called The Man from the North. I got this poem from Min-
nie MacAdorey in America.
I never heard that poem. Say it for me.
Mam says the poem but she laughs all through it and I dont know
why,
He came from the North so his words were few
But his voice was kind and his heart was true.
And I knew by his eyes that no guile had he,
So I married my man from the North Country.
Oh, Garryowen may be more gay
Than this quiet man from beside Lough Neagh
And I know that the sun shines softly down
On the river that runs through my native town.
But theres notand I say it with joy and with pride
A better man in all Munster wide
And Limerick town has no happier hearth
Than mine has been with my man from the North.
I wish that in Limerick they only knew
The kind kind neighbors I came unto.
Small hate or scorn would there ever be
Between the South and the North Country.
She always repeats the third verse and laughs so hard shes crying
and I dont know why. She goes into hysterics when she says,
134