Thanks Anne
Will pass on what we get
This is the last item we used in our talk.
We recorded quite a bit of information on how the songs were passed on between Travellers and the settled communities in South West Ireland.
Here, Mikeen McCarthy described how local people would gather around the caravan at night to listen to his father tell stories and sing songs.
Jim Carroll

06 FATHER SINGING AT WORK
J C When your daddy used to sing, how many people would you say at one time would come and listen to him?

M Mc Oh, there could be twenty, maybe more, maybe thirty, it depends, maybe there could be more than that again.    There'd be some round the fire in a ring, there might be another twenty standing on the road.   There wouldn't be any traffic at that time on the byroads in Ireland, d'you know.   They'd be all standing out along the road then.
My father was a musician as well, he used play a piano accordion, a tin whistle, mouth organ, anything like that, you know.   Then he used to have the little dancing dolls. He'd make a little dancing doll, he used to make them himself out of very hard wood, he'd make them exact and they'd be all put together like, with elastic. He'd have a piece of a board then and he'd put the board under him, in the chair, in between his two legs, like that like, and he'd have the little doll out there, he'd have another stick out of the back of it and he'd start off then, diddling with his mouth like and he'd start putting that little doll and it dancing away to perfect, same as an ordinary person'd be dancing.   
But those things, they must be born into him like, because they were things you couldn't learn like. I tried to learn, I couldn't, I must be stupid or something (laughter).

D T       You couldn't learn how to do it?

M Mc    Oh no, I couldn't, I could a little bit, but I'd be ashamed to do it. But you'd love to hear him there in the mornings.

J C   Where would your daddy do most of his singing, where would you say he'd sing more than anywhere else?

M Mc An' he working, always.   When he'd be working at his tinware like, a hammer goes very fast, faster than a blacksmith, 'twould remind you of a feller singing and another feller playing a kit of drums, he was kind of timing the song with the hammer like, that's the way I look into it now, I hadn't the sense of it that time like.

D T       Did he always sing while he worked?

M Mc   Oh yeah, always sing.   
And a group'd get together then, we'd have an open fire outside that time. He was very well known.
A group of farmers'd always come around then, young lads, we'll say, teenagers, they'd all come round to the fire 'cause there was no televisions that time, no wirelesses, things like that.   
All down then, it often happened they'd bring their own bag of turf with them. Around seven or eight O' clock in the evening and they'd know the time the supper'd be over and all this.    You'd see a couple of cigarettes lighting at the cross and you'd know they'd start to gather then, 'twould be like a dance hall.   
We'd be all tucked into bed but we wouldn't be asleep, we'd be peeping out through keyholes and listening out through the side of the canvas, we'd be stuck everywhere, and he'd know it you know.   
And the fire'd go on. One of the lads then 'd come up for the light of a cigarette or something, he'd be already after topping the cigarette, 'twas just an excuse, "could I have a light out of the fire Mick", they'd say to my father.
Sure, my father'd know, he'd know what he'd be up to, of course and he'd say, "'Tisn't for the light of a fire you came up at all now, 'tisn't for the light of a cigarette you came up for now" and he'd start to laugh.   
And bejay, another feller'd come and he'd say it again, "bejay, before I know where I am there'd be ten of you there".   
And bejay, the word wouldn't be out of his mouth and they would be coming up along, coming up along, and the next thing one feller'd shout to the other, "can't you go down and bring up a gual* of turf, and before you'd know where you are there'd be a roaring fire, 'twould band a wheel for you.   
So 'tis there you'd hear the stories then and the songs, all night, maybe till one o'clock in the morning.   And the kettle... the tea'd go on then, there'd be a round of tea and....   That's the way it'd go on.

*Gual - armful