|
|||||||
Son of Irish Tale |
Share Thread
|
Subject: Son of Irish Tale From: bseed(charleskratz) Date: 06 Jul 99 - 12:07 AM And grandfer said to his boy-o, Bridget... Once upon a time there was a lass with verra short red hair... |
Subject: RE: Son of Irish Tale From: bseed(charleskratz) Date: 06 Jul 99 - 12:14 AM If ye've bin havin' no luck with the previous links, try this one: bodaacious blue clicky thang --seed |
Subject: RE: Son of Irish Tale From: bseed(charleskratz) Date: 06 Jul 99 - 03:31 AM Above mentioned blue clicky obviously belonged in the other thread: sometimes I get a wee bit confused. Ain't it funny how the damned thang leads you right back to itself? There is also one (of three) at the end of An Irish Tale that works to get here. How come nobody wants to come? Or is it just that my HTML ineptitude leaves you all speechless? --seed |
Subject: RE: Son of Irish Tale From: Banjer Date: 06 Jul 99 - 04:48 AM The good banjo player, (how's that for the start of a fairy tale?), wandered all his life from village to village playing songs of his childhood to whomever would do him the kindness to stop and listen. Occasionally someone would drop a few coins into his tin cup. After many years of performing as a minstrel he took his lifes savings (all $38.45 cents of it) and came to America. He found some other banjo players who had also come from similar backgrounds. The four of them pooled their resources and combined lifes savings to form a band. The $91.02 didn't go very far however, so they resorted to playing with a tiple band .......... |
Subject: RE: Son of Irish Tale From: Banjer Date: 07 Jul 99 - 06:27 AM R.I.P. |
Subject: RE: Son of Irish Tale From: Penny S Date: 07 Jul 99 - 11:05 AM This led to a temporary increase in takings, as folk would pay them to go away. However, one dark and stormy night, a stranger came up to them all, and a strange looking stranger he was, too. Dark and scrawny and shorter than was average for that neck of the woods, with an odd shape to his head, and an unusual accent. "Would you play at my house?" he asked. "There's a meal in it, and this," and he held up a small buckskin bag, which jingled a good deal. The players looked at each other, and considered, and were just about to nod, when he added, "There is one condition, though. You'll have to be blindfolded on your way up the ridge." |
Subject: RE: Son of Irish Tale From: Penny S. Date: 07 Jul 99 - 06:52 PM "Is that walking?" asked our hero, but the starnger indicated an old battered pick-up truck that had seen better days leaning against the side of a nearby diner, (offering possum-burgers). There would be, just, about enough room for the band and their hoard of instruments. Just about. |
Subject: RE: Son of Irish Tale From: bseed(charleskratz) Date: 07 Jul 99 - 08:56 PM "Sure, and ye'll all fit in if ye just be leavin' that bagpipe at hame," said the stranger. The piper refused, so they left him and his pipes by the side of the road. He watched the old truck start slowly awa', so slowly that he could follow it with ease. After two hours of eating dust and breathin' diesel fumes, the piper was relieved to see that the truck had stopped, right in front of a... --seed |
Subject: RE: Son of Irish Tale From: Penny S Date: 08 Jul 99 - 12:54 PM high bluff of rock, deeply cut with dark crevices. At the base of this rock was a small hut, and to this hut (adorned with a notice advertising possum ocarinas), the strange man was leading his friends, all blindfolded still. The stranger was looking around, somewhat furtively, so the piper quickly... |
Share Thread: |
Subject: | Help |
From: | |
Preview Automatic Linebreaks Make a link ("blue clicky") |