The Black Pig’s Dyke

Ye know the dip in the road just outa Meigh on the way till Newry?  The Flurry River passes under there.  Well, the shrubbery on yer left on that hill is on a part of the Black Pig’s Dyke.  Ye didn’y know that, did ye?  I’ll tell you the story of how it came by its name.
There was a schoolmaster once in Meigh in the days before Saint Patrick.  And he had the Black Art.  One of he’s tricks was to turn he’s scholars into hare an’ houn’s and have the grand hunts.  He did it be a magic stick. 
The father of the wee fella that was oftenest the hare got till hear about the quare way he had of larnin’ them their lessons an’ he up to the school wan day.  An’ the master wus out wi’ the hunt but the stick wus there an’ he grabbed it.  An’ when the master came back he struck him wi’ it an’ called him a Black Pig.
An’ sure enough he turned into one.  An’ the boys pelted him with stones so he fled into County Down.  An’ he tore up a deep trench as he run an’ there’s bits of the trench – and the bank that riz on the two sides of it – there still.  The Black Pig’s Dyke. 
And that’s the God’s truth for anybody’ll tell ye it.

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