I have already told you about the law of hospitality in the old days. In a time long past—and it was indeed a long time ago—when the famous joker Raftery held all Connacht in awe, it took a woman's extraordinary mind to circumvent the inviolable law of hospitality. This woman managed, without a single reproach and with impunity, to expel such an extraordinary musician from her house, who also combined the intelligence and independence of a true poet.
Like many of his poet predecessors, Raftery often abused his privileges, even too much, and especially when he flirted with his second lover - the bottle.
One day he stopped for the night in the hut of a poor widow. And so she did not straighten her back and tore her heart out worrying about a whole bunch of hungry children, and here this musician lives for a whole thirteen weeks! And give him everything, please him, and serve him. Finally it became clear that this great man did not intend to leave the house until he was carried out of there in a hearse.
The neighbors, who considered themselves smarter than the widow, advised her to break the old custom and throw the old man out. But she only shook her head in response to such a shameful proposal and continued to patiently endure all the hardships.
So it lasted until haymaking, when mowers in the meadows await help from their mistresses. Among thousands of household chores, a woman must still manage to prepare a bundle for them - knitting shocks. And for this, an armful of straw is left in the corner of the kitchen for them to twist into ropes.
The widow called Raftery for help - until now he had not been asked to even hit a finger - and told him to take the spindle and twist it. She hands him a little straw from an armful, and he twists a rope.
But you know that when you twist a rope, you step back step by step from the straw, which just runs through your fingers. The rope gets longer and longer, and you retreat further and further.
So Raftery backed away - the rope stretched, and he backed away - first from the hearth, at which the widow stood, giving him straw, and then beyond the threshold, into the fresh air, into the wide world of God, from which he was a voluntary exile for thirteen blissful weeks. And then he heard the door through which he had just exited himself slam and click; no one had escorted him out, kicked him out or kicked him out.
This is how the female mind managed to bypass the sacred law of Irish hospitality seventy times without a mistake and push the great Raftery out the door.
In the old days they said:
When you want to give pants, don't cut off the buttons.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru