John McCullagh November 15, 2004
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Legend has it that certain heathers from Slieve Gullion contain a cure for rheumatism and pains.  I can say no more for it is a secret!
 
Indeed at one time there was a fine wine with healing powers that could be made from certain of these heathers.  The invaders, in their anxiety to get their hands on the recipe, slew all who refused to divulge the secret.  
 
Finally there remained on Slieve Gullion only a father and a son who knew the way.  They were seized and ruthlessly tortured and the father hastily agreed to reveal the secret if only his son was killed before his eyes, so that he might be certain of his death.  He gave as explanation the fear that the boy might escape and spread word over the land of the father’s infidelity.  
 
The invaders did as he asked.  Then the father stood up defiantly. 
 
‘He was too young to bear your tortures without at last divulging the secret,’ he cried.
 
‘Now he is dead I alone know the secret.
 
Kill me now, if you like for I’ll never tell.’
 
After further pitiless torturing, he was killed.  And the secret died with him forever.

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