Hello Sean, how are you? Ah s of rand straulong tearing away with the world and the world tearing with me. Ever hear that? I think so but I forget. It’s hard to learn Irish. I find making a stool hard. There’s nothing easy in this world. Brendon, have you made my boat yet? Very nearly. If you hold on a minute, I’d finish off the table for you. Oh, sure. So you could you could do it yourself. All you have to do is tar the edges. There you are. It’s grand. Is that the way they make them in Konamara? Garen. Exactly the same. That’s manage the time I went out on one of them from Injan and Kashla. And are you lad not half your size? That was a long time ago. You know, I was never back there since. You must have been great at Irish when you were going to school. Well, there was no Irish at school in my day. And where did you learn it? So you’re always talking it. I learned my Irish from from a man called Far Rocket, the bicycle man. I’d like to be going to school in your time with no Irish to learn. It must have been great. I don’t know, Brendan. When I was a boy, we had no language of our own. No flag, no anthem, no coins, no stamps. Why was that? They wouldn’t be allowed. Who didn’t allow them? Them that ruled over us. You see, I was born in slavery. You a slave and who set you free? These are weak men for one thing. There were others too. Tell me about it. Anish. Now your mother will be looking for you after school. She does not. So every evening you were in here looking for a story and you’re going to tell it to me. Well, it was over 50 years ago. I was a young goss just like yourself. Sometimes I wore a cell collar that I washed with cold water every morning. And on Sundays I I wore a velvet suit with with lace collar around the shoulders. You’re either a moder or a rocker. Are you out for pardon me? Honest. I’m not. Tell me about the Irish. Well, as I told you, friend, there was no Irish at school in my day. It was well over 50 years ago, an afternoon in April. I was looking out the schoolhouse window. Master Hanigan, the school teacher, was out the room for a moment, and that was the day that I first saw far a rocket. He left his bicycle at the school gate. And then the master came in and we all ran back to our places. Quick run quick. Now, boys and girls, from where we left off. Yes, we are happy English children. Repeat that, please. We are happy English children. Good. Very good. Of course, we could also say we are contented English children. Or we are satisfied. English children. Now once again please. We are happy English children. We are contented English children. We are satisfied English children. Very good. Go and see who is at the door, please. Margaret will have I your permission to enter. Oh, yes. Yes, of course. Mr. Tomas Odon is signing them. Oh, Hanigan is my name. Yes. Uh, come in. Come in. You’re welcome. Thank you. Um, comed have I your permission? Oh, yes. Yes. Thank you. Is children I have saluted you in your own language. I have said God and Mary be with you. Dear is Mary Eve. Can anyone answer me? H Can you son? Stand up, Sean, when the gentleman speaks to you. Uh, can you answer me? No, sir. Anyone else? H, I can. Ah, Mar. This Mr. is Podrick. Men. Now, who taught you that? My grandfather. We live in the hills. uh in the hills. Well, there there is one boy who knows that we have a language of our own only one. And yet it is true that we have an old and beautiful language and it is ours and it belongs to nobody else. Will you excuse me, Mr. Hanigan? You see, just as the French have French and as the Spaniards have Spanish, we too have our own language, you know, and it’s called Guan, Irish. And our forefathers brought it out of the east. There are stories of adventure in it and tales of wonder, tales of giants and fairy palaces, and little children turned into swans. Yes. Tales of heroes and heroins and horses and wild boars and tales of harpers and singers. It is a like a talking book that tells the story of everyone that went before us back to the dawn of time. Yes, but perhaps I had better explain myself, Mr. Hanigan, and why I am here. You see children, I belong to Conra Negra, the Gaelic League, and we do not wish to see our language die. Now, the law says that your teacher is not allowed to teach you Irish here in school, but I will teach Irish to any boy or girl who wants to learn it outside of school. Well, that’s that’s fair enough. Thank you. So this evening at 7:00 I’ll be in Bets’s cottage, you know, down the road. And any boy or girl who wants to learn Irish, beg for you will be welcome. And I will tell you the story of Satanta and the king of Ireland, son. Yes. Well, thank you very much, Mr. Hanigan. Thank you. and harvest. Thank you.
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