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Hallow Eve, the night when resurrected spirits roamed the earth, was, then as it is now an eerie festival designed for robust enjoyment.
In our area we assisted the unquiet spirits by spiriting away neighbours
goods and chattels, by removing easily-hung gates and depositing them
in the nearest stream, and by exchanging decorative potted plants and
garden furniture between next-door neighbours, a thing certain to rouse
an unspoken jealousy and antipathy that simmered just below the surface
anyway. You’d think they’d know with the night that was in it who was
to blame but it wasn’t always so.
But
the only tricks worth their salt were those that combined the maximum
of guile with the minimum of real damage. Yet we never aspired to the
real classic perpetrated upon the old farmer – who shall remain
anonymous – who was fond of a drink.
Joe
the Ass [he still drove a donkey and cart long after his neighbours –
and the world – had moved on] was well-liked on account of the fact
that his was one of the last ceildhe-houses in the area. As well as
open entertainment to all this meant that the door key was left handy
under a nearby stone.
This
Hallow Eve Joe with his donkey and cart was waylaid on his way home
from the market by a few of his cronies – it didn’t take a lot – and
spent longer than he intended in his local hostelry. The donkey was
well-used to such a thing and tired of waiting, would often head for
home itself, drawing its burden behind it. On this occasion the local
youths intervened before it could happen. They led the donkey and cart
away.
Back
at Joe’s house, the key was used to gain admittance. Then the donkey
was unyoked. The cart was unloaded, then tipped on its edge so that it
would fit through the wide front door. In Joe’s kitchen the cart was
righted and re-loaded. Finally the ass was led in and yoked once again
to the cart. The house was locked and the key returned to its resting
place under the stone.
Finally
the lads withdrew behind a nearby wall to enjoy a few cigarettes until
Joe would finally return home and try to figure out how the ass,
complete with loaded cart, had manoeuvred its way into the locked house
and through to the kitchen.
Joe was well and truly 'gunked!'
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