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Abbeyleix agus Ailean Aird Alfred Nutt arms arrived arrow arsa Micheil Barbreck birlinn black dog bliadhna Bran Burg Hill Campbell of Craignish Celt Celtic chiad cho luath chuir clan Craignish Castle deeds deir dheanamh dirk distaff do'n dorus dress duine Dun Bhurg Fairy farm Fdinne fhein fhuair fight Finn fios na h-Inid fire Fosgail an dorus fulling-water Gaelic galley gillies Glengarisdale gnothach gu'n h-uile head Highlands housewife iarraidh Iona Irish Islay Kilmartin Kintraw Kintyre knights knowledge of Shrove-tide land latter Loch Awe Loch Craignish luaidh maiden McDougalls McGhee McLachlane McLarty McLarty's Mclsaac McMartin Mhaith Mhic Michael Scot Morag obair open the door ORANSAY PRIORY Ossianic Rainig robh Roimhe Saddell says Michael Scotland Sound of Jura spinning-wheel stigh sword thainig thought thuirt thusa tighe took traditions uair urrainn
Page 98 - Thus endeth thys noble and loyous book entytled le morte Darthur Notwythstondyng it treateth of the byrth lyf and actes of the sayd kyng Arthur of his noble knyghtes of the rounde table theyr meruayllous enquestes and aduentures thachyeuyng of the sangreal & in thende the dolorous deth & departyng out of thys world of them al...
Page 98 - Faithfully Edited word for word, line for line, and page for page, from the Edition (1485) of W. Caxton in Lord Spencer's Library, Althorp, Northampton. With a Bibliographico-critical Introduction, the various readings of Wynkyn de Worde's Edition (1529), a Treatise on Malory's relation to the
Page 47 - You will not do," says Michael. He reached the second one. " How swift are you?" " I am as swift as that I can outspeed the wind that comes behind me, and overtake the wind that goes before me." " You will not do," answered Michael. The third one was as fleet as the "black blast of March". "Scarcely will you do," says Michael. He arrived at the fourth one, and put his question to her. " I am as swift as the thought of a maiden between her two lovers. "You will be of service," says Michael ;
Page 98 - Bibliographico-critical Introduction, the various readings of Wynkyn de Worde's Edition (1529), a Treatise on Malory's relation to the "Merlin" in the Huth Library and other of his French sources ; an Explanatory and Glossarial Index, and a Photographic Facsimile Specimen Page, by Dr. H.
Page 55 - ... rich farmer was at night, as was the custom of thrifty housewives in those days, after her husband and household had gone to rest, preparing woollen cloth (clo) for their use. Being excessively wearied and fatigued with her labours, she sought an outlet for her feelings, and said : " O that some one would come from land or sea, from far or near, to help me with the work of making this cloth.
Page 49 - Scotland sleep," responded Michael. "Forward was the woman who put the first finger in your mouth," says she. Michael arrived at Rome. It was the morning. He sent swift message to the Pope that the messenger from Scotland was at the door seeking knowledge of Shrove-tide, lest Lent would go away. The Pope came at once to the audience-room. " Whence art thou ? " he said to Michael. " I am from thy faithful children of Scotland, seeking the knowledge of Shrove-tide, lest Lent will go away,
Page 61 - The company would then rush out to see for themselves, and when she got them outside, she was to disarrange, reverse, overturn, and upset everything they had been working with. She returned with the knowledge given her, and when she reached the hillock before the door, she cried out, so fearful and loud that she could be heard by people further away than those it was meant for : " There is fire in Burg Hill ! Burg Hill is on fire! Burg Hill is in red flames of fire !" Before she had finished the...
Page 49 - Blessing to thyself, but a curse on thy teacher," replied she. " What," says she again, " say the wives of Scotland when they put the first weanling to bed, and a suckling at their breast ? " " Ride you in your master's name, and let the wives of Scotland sleep,
Page 63 - S gann a bha i ullamh dheth so 'si air toiseachadh air deasarohe", and as they hurried to the door they cried — " My wife and little ones, My cheese and butter-keg, My sons and daughters, My big meal chests, My comb and wool-cards, Thread and distaff, Cow and fetter, Horses and traces, Harrows and hoard, And the ground bursting, My hammers and anvil, Burg Hill is on fire ; And if Burg Hill is burnt, My pleasant occupations And merriments are gone.