Ùrachadh mu Dheireadh 15/08/2017
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TIOTAL
'Trì Pìosan Comhairle'
EXTERNAL ID
AB_ESSIE_STEWART_04
DEIT
2008
LINN
2000an
CRUTHADAIR
Essie Stewart
NEACH-FIOSRACHAIDH
Am Baile
AITHNEACHADH MAOINE
1177
KEYWORDS
luchd-siubhail
dòighean-beatha
dubh-shiùbhlaich
claistinneach

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'S e seanchaidh traidiseanta à Cataibh a th' ann an Essie Stiùbhairt agus 's i tè na daoine mu dheireadh a bha an sàs sa 'Choiseachd Shamhraidh' a bhiodh aig an luchd-taisteil. 'S e ban-ogha aig Ailidh Dall Stiùbhart (1882-1968) a th' innte, agus bha e-fhèin am measg nan seanchaidhean Gàidhlig a b' fheàrr a bh' ann. Tha Essie ag innse a sgeulachdan san dà chuid, Beurla is Gàidhlig.

Sa chuibhreann chlaistinneach seo, air a chlàradh aig Fèis Leabhraichean Ulapuil ann an 2008, tha Essie ag aithris na sgeulachd sa Ghàidhlig de 'Na Trì Comhairlean'.

'Actually, this is not one of my mother's, this is not one of my grandfather's stories, this is one of my mother's stories. In Gaelic it's called 'The Three Comhairlean' - 'The Three Pieces of Advice.' School of Scottish Studies have told me that this story's about eight hundred years old and it's certainly been handed down through my generation, maybe three, four generations.

Many years ago, there was this family and they were poor, very poor, and the husband said to his wife, 'Now,' he said, 'there's no work. I will have to go away. I will have to leave home.' And she said, 'Well, if there's no other way for it, you will have to go' and off he went. And he was walking, and he walked for goodness knows how long, or what distance, till eventually he came to a farm. And he went up to the farm, knocked on the door and the farmer came out and he told him that he was looking for work. And the farmer said to him, 'Well,' he said, 'there's plenty work here for you.'

So he was there, and they were very, very pleased with him, and he could, he could plough, and he could sew, and he could do shepherding; he could do everything. And he was there for many years. Now, in those days, wages were paid every six month. Every six month he would send a little money home to his wife till eventually he said to the farmer this day, he said, 'I think perhaps the time has come when I should, you know, I really should go home.' And the farmer said to him, 'Well,' he said, 'if that's the way it's got to be' he says, 'we will be really sorry to lose you.'

However, in the morning, he came down to breakfast and the farmer's wife said to him, 'I hear you're going home today?' And he said, 'Yes, I am.' He said, 'It's about time that I went home to see my wife and family.' And she said, 'Which would you prefer' she said 'your wages or three pieces of advice?' And he thought, and he said. 'I will have the three pieces of advice.' 'Very well' she said. She said, 'My first piece of advice to you is, when you leave here' she said 'you will go down the road and you will come to a crossroads.' She said, 'You can follow the road you're on, but' she said 'to your right there's a path. Don't take that path; keep on the road that you are on.'

And she said, 'My second piece of advice to you is - You'll be walking till nightfall' and she said 'You will come - In the distance' she said 'you will see a long, black house.' And she said, 'When you get to that house you will go to the door' and she said 'They will ask you in and probably you'll get fed and they will ask you to stay the night. Don't stay.' And she said 'My third piece of advice is, think before you strike.' And as he was going out the door, she said to him 'I don't suppose you will have loaf bread, much loaf bread at home?' And he said 'No, very rarely do we have loaf bread.' He said 'My wife bakes every day but' he said 'loaf bread is very rare for us.' And she said 'Look, there's a loaf of bread' and she wrapped it in a white tea towel and off he went.

And he came to the crossroads, and he started out on the path, and he didn't go very far and he remembered, 'Oh, this is my first piece of advice.' And he turned and he went back onto the road that he was on originally. And he was walking and walking until, as the lady said, nightfall, and he saw a light, and this was the long, black house that the farmer's wife said, spoke about. Went to the door and a tall, slim, red-haired young woman came to the door and she asked him in. And he went in, and they gave him tea, and they probably gave him something to eat as well.

Sitting at the fireside was an old gentleman, and he was talking away to this old man, and eventually he said, 'I will have to make tracks.' He said 'I will have to go.' And the old man said to him 'No' he said 'Don't go. It's late, it's cold.' (It was the wintertime) 'It's late, it's cold.' He said, 'Stay where you are.' And he said 'No' he said 'if I leave now, I will be home at daybreak' and off he went. But when he went out, there was haystacks in the yard, and he went to the first haystack and he pulled the hay out and he made a little, just a little nest, and he went in and he sheltered there and it was bitterly cold. He didn't sleep, and some time in the early hours of the morning he heard voices. He couldn't understand what was being said although this couple, and it was the young woman, the young red-haired woman from the house, and there was a young man with her, and they were so close to him that he put out his hand, took his pocket knife out of his pocket, and he cut a piece of material from the bottom of the coat that the young man was wearing. And when they went away, he got out; he came out of the haystack, gave himself a shake, and went on his way. And by daybreak, he was at his own home. No, no one was about.

So he went in, opened the door and he went in, and he went through to the bedroom, and when he went through to the bedroom, lying in bed beside his wife was a young man. He never said anything; he went back out and he picked up the axe that was on the chopping block and he went in, back into the bedroom, and he's standing above the bed, and the axe was raised and his wife woke. And she said 'What were you going to do?' And the boy, the young man that was lying beside his wife, was his own son that was in the cradle when he left, that was now a laddie of twelve, probably.

However, she got up, and his wife got up, and lit the fire and the kettle went on and he told her about not getting any wages, and the three pieces of advice. And he said to his wife, he said 'Look' he said 'there's a loaf of bread that the farmer's wife gave me.' And while the kettle was boiling, she was slicing the loaf and inside the loaf of bread was his wages. However, two or three days afterwards, the police arrived at his door and started quizzing him. And they were quizzing him about the house that he went to, and he told them that, yes, he was in the house, that he had tea with them and that he didn't - And he told them about the advice that he was given. And, Ladies and Gentlemen, hadn't it been for that little piece of material that he'd cut from the bottom of that young man's coat he would have been up for the murder of that old man that was in that house because he was murdered the night that he was there, and had his tea with them. And hadn't it been that he had that little piece of material, he would have been the one that would have been up for that old man's murder. There you have it. [Applause]'

Airson stiùireadh mu bhith a’ cleachdadh ìomhaighean agus susbaint eile, faicibh duilleag ‘Na Cumhaichean air Fad.’
’S e companaidh cuibhrichte fo bharantas clàraichte ann an Alba Àir. SC407011 agus carthannas clàraichte Albannach Àir. SC042593 a th’ ann an High Life na Gàidhealtachd.
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'Trì Pìosan Comhairle'

2000an

luchd-siubhail; dòighean-beatha; dubh-shiùbhlaich; claistinneach;

Am Baile

Am Baile: Essie Stewart

'S e seanchaidh traidiseanta à Cataibh a th' ann an Essie Stiùbhairt agus 's i tè na daoine mu dheireadh a bha an sàs sa 'Choiseachd Shamhraidh' a bhiodh aig an luchd-taisteil. 'S e ban-ogha aig Ailidh Dall Stiùbhart (1882-1968) a th' innte, agus bha e-fhèin am measg nan seanchaidhean Gàidhlig a b' fheàrr a bh' ann. Tha Essie ag innse a sgeulachdan san dà chuid, Beurla is Gàidhlig.<br /> <br /> Sa chuibhreann chlaistinneach seo, air a chlàradh aig Fèis Leabhraichean Ulapuil ann an 2008, tha Essie ag aithris na sgeulachd sa Ghàidhlig de 'Na Trì Comhairlean'.<br /> <br /> 'Actually, this is not one of my mother's, this is not one of my grandfather's stories, this is one of my mother's stories. In Gaelic it's called 'The Three Comhairlean' - 'The Three Pieces of Advice.' School of Scottish Studies have told me that this story's about eight hundred years old and it's certainly been handed down through my generation, maybe three, four generations. <br /> <br /> Many years ago, there was this family and they were poor, very poor, and the husband said to his wife, 'Now,' he said, 'there's no work. I will have to go away. I will have to leave home.' And she said, 'Well, if there's no other way for it, you will have to go' and off he went. And he was walking, and he walked for goodness knows how long, or what distance, till eventually he came to a farm. And he went up to the farm, knocked on the door and the farmer came out and he told him that he was looking for work. And the farmer said to him, 'Well,' he said, 'there's plenty work here for you.' <br /> <br /> So he was there, and they were very, very pleased with him, and he could, he could plough, and he could sew, and he could do shepherding; he could do everything. And he was there for many years. Now, in those days, wages were paid every six month. Every six month he would send a little money home to his wife till eventually he said to the farmer this day, he said, 'I think perhaps the time has come when I should, you know, I really should go home.' And the farmer said to him, 'Well,' he said, 'if that's the way it's got to be' he says, 'we will be really sorry to lose you.'<br /> <br /> However, in the morning, he came down to breakfast and the farmer's wife said to him, 'I hear you're going home today?' And he said, 'Yes, I am.' He said, 'It's about time that I went home to see my wife and family.' And she said, 'Which would you prefer' she said 'your wages or three pieces of advice?' And he thought, and he said. 'I will have the three pieces of advice.' 'Very well' she said. She said, 'My first piece of advice to you is, when you leave here' she said 'you will go down the road and you will come to a crossroads.' She said, 'You can follow the road you're on, but' she said 'to your right there's a path. Don't take that path; keep on the road that you are on.'<br /> <br /> And she said, 'My second piece of advice to you is - You'll be walking till nightfall' and she said 'You will come - In the distance' she said 'you will see a long, black house.' And she said, 'When you get to that house you will go to the door' and she said 'They will ask you in and probably you'll get fed and they will ask you to stay the night. Don't stay.' And she said 'My third piece of advice is, think before you strike.' And as he was going out the door, she said to him 'I don't suppose you will have loaf bread, much loaf bread at home?' And he said 'No, very rarely do we have loaf bread.' He said 'My wife bakes every day but' he said 'loaf bread is very rare for us.' And she said 'Look, there's a loaf of bread' and she wrapped it in a white tea towel and off he went. <br /> <br /> And he came to the crossroads, and he started out on the path, and he didn't go very far and he remembered, 'Oh, this is my first piece of advice.' And he turned and he went back onto the road that he was on originally. And he was walking and walking until, as the lady said, nightfall, and he saw a light, and this was the long, black house that the farmer's wife said, spoke about. Went to the door and a tall, slim, red-haired young woman came to the door and she asked him in. And he went in, and they gave him tea, and they probably gave him something to eat as well. <br /> <br /> Sitting at the fireside was an old gentleman, and he was talking away to this old man, and eventually he said, 'I will have to make tracks.' He said 'I will have to go.' And the old man said to him 'No' he said 'Don't go. It's late, it's cold.' (It was the wintertime) 'It's late, it's cold.' He said, 'Stay where you are.' And he said 'No' he said 'if I leave now, I will be home at daybreak' and off he went. But when he went out, there was haystacks in the yard, and he went to the first haystack and he pulled the hay out and he made a little, just a little nest, and he went in and he sheltered there and it was bitterly cold. He didn't sleep, and some time in the early hours of the morning he heard voices. He couldn't understand what was being said although this couple, and it was the young woman, the young red-haired woman from the house, and there was a young man with her, and they were so close to him that he put out his hand, took his pocket knife out of his pocket, and he cut a piece of material from the bottom of the coat that the young man was wearing. And when they went away, he got out; he came out of the haystack, gave himself a shake, and went on his way. And by daybreak, he was at his own home. No, no one was about. <br /> <br /> So he went in, opened the door and he went in, and he went through to the bedroom, and when he went through to the bedroom, lying in bed beside his wife was a young man. He never said anything; he went back out and he picked up the axe that was on the chopping block and he went in, back into the bedroom, and he's standing above the bed, and the axe was raised and his wife woke. And she said 'What were you going to do?' And the boy, the young man that was lying beside his wife, was his own son that was in the cradle when he left, that was now a laddie of twelve, probably. <br /> <br /> However, she got up, and his wife got up, and lit the fire and the kettle went on and he told her about not getting any wages, and the three pieces of advice. And he said to his wife, he said 'Look' he said 'there's a loaf of bread that the farmer's wife gave me.' And while the kettle was boiling, she was slicing the loaf and inside the loaf of bread was his wages. However, two or three days afterwards, the police arrived at his door and started quizzing him. And they were quizzing him about the house that he went to, and he told them that, yes, he was in the house, that he had tea with them and that he didn't - And he told them about the advice that he was given. And, Ladies and Gentlemen, hadn't it been for that little piece of material that he'd cut from the bottom of that young man's coat he would have been up for the murder of that old man that was in that house because he was murdered the night that he was there, and had his tea with them. And hadn't it been that he had that little piece of material, he would have been the one that would have been up for that old man's murder. There you have it. [Applause]'