Monday, 2 March 2020

Snow, The Ballad of Con Carey and Wise Buys

                                Lambing Season 2020                              




















Photo; Chris Grayson

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 Something to Sing About

The following ballad was sent to us by Mattie Lennon who has a great knowledge of
 the works of John B. Keane

THE BALLAD OF CON CAREY.
(Air; Skibbereen.)
By John B. Keane.
Come all ye loyal heroes and listen to my lay

’Tis all about Con Carey who was taken from the clay

The papers all, they had a ball and the guards made up a case

Not since the time of Lazarus did such a thing take place

At the tender age of sixty nine Con Carey’s final breath

Was drawn within a building site upon his native heath

He fell to foul exposure as he homeward made his way

But alas the clothes he wore that night were only work-a-day



With these upon his unwashed frame, Con Carey was interred

And from the sealed-up ashen lips, no hostile word was heard

But round the grave, his comrades brave were conscious of his plight

And silently they did resolve to set the matter right

The sun was high in the mid-day sky when the cars drew to a halt

Out stepped the crew that then did view each mound and cross and vault

With eyes so keen, they swept the scene where the long green grass did wave

Until they found the latest mound that was Con Carey’s grave



This fearless troop of volunteers marched through the church-yard gate

With single aim it was their game Con’s corpse to decorate

They lay him down in habit brown without a scratch or tear

To shave his mien and make him clean for his trip to Peter’s chair

Yes, to shave his mien and to make him clean so that he’d be no disgrace

To Brosna town of such great renown and to all the Irish race

So that Peter and Paul and the good saints all might take poor Con in toe

And that all cadavers from now on might be dressed before they go



“Bury me dacent, “ Con once said to his comrades loyal and true

“See that I’m shod for the road to God since I’d do the same for you

See that I’m dressed as good as the best but without a flounce or frill

Then lay me down in Mountcollins town where I’ve plenty of time to kill.”

When the deed was done, the guards came on and faced our gallant crew

 Out spoke the chief grave-digger saying, “ what were we to do

Could we look on and see poor Con in such a bad repose

And send him straight to Heaven’s gate dressed up in dirty clothes.”



( The twelve people who carried out the charitable task became known as the
Twelve Apostles
 and John B’s son Billy said, “There was no Judas among those Twelve Apostles.”)

There is a podcast about this incident;



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The Last Big Freeze, 2010




Frozen Feale






Helping the neighbours



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