Eachtraí na hÓige: III (1954)

Áralt Ó Tnúthail, composed in Toronto, Ontario

“Lá agus allas ag titim go trom leis an obair trom a bhí á dhéanamh agam faoin spéir glan gorm, tháinig in aigne an linbh óig Mícheál cabhair do thabhairt. Is minic a thiocfadh sé agus a rá, ‘An cabhair leat inniu, Dad?’ Is deacair a rá, ‘Níl aon cabhair uaim inniu, a leaidín mhaith, go raibh maith agat.’ Ba cheart a rá, ‘Imigh leat as mo shlí, a rógaire bheag críochnaithe, agus nár lig mo shúile ort go bhfuil an t-obair críochnaithe agam.’ Ach ní raibh an focal ráite agam, ach, ‘Tar liomsa a Mhichilín,’ agus do bhí eagla orm nach mbeidh sé ró-fhada sara thit rud éigin amach.

Ann ‘an chéad chuir síos do bhí lomán adhmaid gearrtha agam i gcúig píosaí timpeall 30” ar faid. Ní rabhadar trom in aon chor; bhíodar amach san tsráid. Ghabh mé ceann acu don leanbh agus ghlaos air, ‘Lean tú mé, a Mhichilín.’

‘Tá sé ró-throm,’ ar Michilín.

‘Níl sé,’ a deir mé.

‘Ó! Tá sé ró-throm ar gualainn an bhuachalla,’ adúirt bean chomharsain. ‘Níl sé ach ina bhábóg fós.’

Tháinig aobh an gháire ar an stracaire slím, agus chuir sé béic as. ‘Féach,’ ar seisean, ‘Tá sé ró-throm,’ agus ag an am céanna do thug sé greim ar an adhmad agus chaith sé é timpeall sé troigh uaidh. Gháir an bhean mhaith agus a súile ag léim as a ceann. ‘Maith an rógaire thú,’ ar sise.

Rith an buachaill as an áit chomh tapaidh is a bhí ina chumas aige.”

---

“One day and sweat falling heavily with the hard work that I was doing under the blue sky, in came into the mind of the young child Mícheál to help. It’s often that he would come and say, ‘Can I help you today, Dad?’ It’s difficult to say, ‘I don’t need any help today, my good lad, thank you.’ I should say, ‘Be gone from my path, you complete little rascal, and don’t let my eyes fall on you until I have finished the work.’ But I didn’t say a word, except, ‘Come with me little Michilín,’ and I was afraid it wouldn’t be too long until something bad happened.

In the first place, I had a tree trunk cut into five pieces about 30” long. They were not heavy at all; they were out in the street. I brought one of them to the child and I called on him, ‘You follow me, little Michilín.’

‘It’s too heavy,’ said little Michilín.

‘It isn’t,’ I say.

‘Oh! It is too heavy on the boy’s shoulder,’ said a neighbour woman. ‘Tá sé ró-throm ar gualainn an bhuachalla,’ adúirt bean chomharsain. ‘He’s not yet but a baby.’

A beaming smile came on the cunning extortionist, and he let out a yelp. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘It is too heavy,’ and at the same time he took a grip on the wood and he threw it about six feet away from him. The good woman shouted and her eyes lept from her head. ‘That’s a fine rascal,’ she said.

The boy ran out of the place as fast as he was able.”

Adapted from: Ó Tnúthail, Áralt. 1954. “Eachtra na hÓige.” Irisleabhar Ceilteach. 2.3. Cló Chluain Tairbh: Toronto.

For citation, please use: Ó Tnúthail, Áralt. 1954. “Eachtra na hÓige: III.” Ó Dubhghaill, Dónall. 2024. Na Gaeil san Áit Ró-Fhuar. Gaeltacht an Oileáin Úir: www.gaeilge.ca