The pantomime season is now in full swing here in Britain, and the theatres are full of children (and adults) screaming at the actors: "Look behind you." The actors are all familiar from old TV shows, and it is a surprise to find that some of them are still alive, let alone still able to act. Surely Ken Dodd must be playing to a heavenly audience these days, but no he is still touring and playing the Dame up and down the country.

My eight-year-old niece and nephew have told me that the rock and roll version of "Jack and the Beanstalk" performed by the Everyman theatre company at Theatre Clwyd in Mold, North Wales, is "cool." The story of Jack reminds me of another tale from Dublin in the 1930's.

A Song for a Cow

One January day in 1936 young Michael Byrne travelled up to Dublin from Kildare instructed by his widowed mother to sell their spotted cow. She had told him firmly that he was not to accept less than five guineas but as he wandered through the market he could find no takers. The dealers laughed at Michael's accent, and made fun of him; "Five guineas! Pull the udder one!" one dealer cried out, roaring with laughter at his own wit. Inspired by this the other dealers trotted out all their best cow jokes, milking the subject for all its worth, until the spotted cow herself was seen to blush at the story of the Black Bull of Clontarf and the blind milkmaid.

Miserably Michael crept away from the market, and boarded the Underground Railway at McCracken Station, paying the obligatory halfpenny fare for the cow. He took a seat in the corner of the front carriage, and listened to a singer entertaining the company. It wasn't long before the passengers noticed Michael's long face in spite of the singer's spirited rendition of Down By The Liffeyside. The singer, who was of course none other than Peadar Kearney, came over to Michael and sympathetically poured him a tot of whiskey while Michael poured out his sad story.

Peadar was much moved by Michael's account, and declared that he should not go home to Kildare without something better to remember Dublin by. After a few moments he stood up and sang the following song.

Come gather round good people, who in Dublin town do dwell,
While I relate and communicate, as I'm about to tell.
It's all about a sorry case I'm going to tell you now,
Concerning Michael from Kildare and the tail of his spotted cow.

It was on a January morning that he took the cow to town,
By the clock face in the marketplace, the dealers looked her up and down,
Saying to young Michael Byrne, "Get back behind your plough,
And go back home to Kildare with the tail of your spotted cow.

On the banks of the Liffey young Michael then he strayed,
And by the edge of O'Connell Bridge he spied a fair young maid;
"What ails you?" cried the maiden, "and puts sorrow on your brow,
What causes you to weep and mourn with the tail of your spotted cow?"

"Come home with me, young man," she said "and I'll improve your luck."
And through the night with all her might she taught him how to whistle.
Said he, "I feel the world go round, I cannot tell you how,
God bless you for your kindness to the tail of my spotted cow."

So Michael went home to Kildare, the hero of the day,
And every maid about him played as he passed along his way,
And the streets of that fair city are packed with children now,
Thanks to the powers of Michael and the tail of his spotted cow.

Naturally Michael's mother was outraged when he returned with the cow, and no money, and singing Peadar's song. She threw him out onto the streets, and up until a few years ago he could still be heard singing The Tale of My Spotted Cow in exchange for a glass of stout.