The Washer of the Ford: Legendary moralities and barbaric tales

he evening was come. Through the violet glooms of dusk she moved soundlessly, save for the crispling of her feet among the hot sands. Far as she could se

ot, also tall dark cypresses, black-green as the holy yew. These were the trees she now saw. Did she dream, she wondered? Far down in her mind was some memory, some floa

and. The sigh of the parche

and square white buildings, looming ghostly through the dark, yet home-sweet as the bells

ures which haunted her unremembering memory. When he drew near sh

ere not the words that were near her when she was alone. Neverthe

cher, f

and by the Well of the Camels, no doubt: though little matter will that be, since

my f

sts come out of the darkness, and there are robbers and wild men who lu

cool green isle in no

y that the old see wonders. But I do not wish to see this wonder, that my daughter Brighid forgets her own town, and the good inn that is there, and the strong sweet ale that is cool against the thirst of the weary. Sure, if the day of my days is near it is near. 'Green be the place of my rest,' I cry, even as Oisì

where a few white-robed Hebrews and sons of the desert moved silently, or sat in niches. Finally, they came to a great yard, where more than a score of camels lay huddled and growling in their sleep. Beyond this was the inn, which was known to all the patrons and fr

s of a passage leading to the inner rooms, he st

man can drink ale all day long, and those wayfarers who want to wash the dust of their journey from their feet and hands complain bitterly. And ... what is that you will be saying? The kye? Ay, sure, there is the kye, but the poor beasts are o'ercome wit

rought from the mountain-springs; and now they are for drying up too. The seers say that the drought will last. If that is a true word, and there be no rain till the winter comes, there will be no inn in Bethlehem called 'The Rest and Be Thankf

father; but wha

hless well of pure water, cold as the sea with a north wind in it, on a hill there called the Mount of Olives. Now, it is to that hill I will be going. I am for taking all the

, and some Macleans and Maccallums that were then in that place. It was a fair sight to see as they went forth through the white gate that is called the Gate of Nazareth. A piper wa

f pure water, he left with her. On no account was she to give a drop to any wayfarer, no matter how urgent he might be; for he, Dùghall, could not say when he would get back, and he did not want to find a dead daughter to greet

t was on the afternoon of the third day, when even the crickets were

unning waters. But beautiful as she was, it was not this that made Bride start: no, nor the heavy womb that showed the woman was with child. For she remembered her of a dream-it was a dream, sure-when she had looked into a pool on a mount

d the gray-haired man in a weary voic

ied Bride gently, "a

his inn? Sure it is grateful we will be. This is my wife Mary, u

neither food nor drink here, and my father has bidden m

the ass turned her shadowy eyes upon Bride,

d, in the good sweet Gaelic of the Isles, and the voice of her wa

. Then without a word she turned, and beckoned them to fo

flagon to Joseph: "and here, Mary, is all the water that ther

ought out oatcakes and scones and brown bread, a

said Mary, "and the first o

reature would not give milk without a sian or

sian," s

milk to he

ow green hil

cool meads

thirst, and went back to her guests rejoicing. It was sorrow to her not

or stable where he and Mary could sleep till morning. At that, Bride was glad: for she knew there was a clean c

unken deep of the jar and the flagon, each was now full as it had been. Of the food, too, none

hall Donn and his following rode up to the inn, and all were glad because of the cool

still in the flagon, Bride told him of the wayfarers. Even as she spoke, h

eaning?" he asked, i

will be green again. The beasts will not perish. Hark, I hear the nois

n, after a long drought? And who is for knowing that Bethlehem is not the place, and that this is not the night of the day of the

rn, and made their way through the drowsing camels and asses and horse

ll muttered uneasily: for, truly, it was as though t

fell upon their knees. Mary sat with her heavenly beauty upon her li

hild so fair. He was as

all Donn, of Joseph, who s

e Prince

ary smiled, and

, as she whispered this, Mary

t with her mantle. Therefore it is that she is known t

e nursed the Child, with tender hands and croodling croo

hrist, so

ridget

eet th

aby

of my

body was

ved of One

ridget

bore thee,

heart was, l

d's lov

n my

ridget

t

by d

my heart,

foster-m

lples

e no

ood St

e,

ar ha

t me

to t

thou do

dget

my Prin

dear,

ridget

-Druid Cathal died. But before the breath went from h

'dol air

l a shuidh

Bride upo

Elements aslee

Bride upon the brows, and said this thing to her: "Brighid, my