My apologies for the delay in continuing this thread, but Mudcat Trouble and Song Challenges have intervened, not to mention the need to earn a living. In the meantime Liz and Paul have been behaving disgracefully with talk of pussies and titties! I hadn't previously thought it possible to lower the tone of Mudcat.

Before examining the Railway archives for the minutes of the Board meetings there is one interesting story that ought to be told.

A Hooley in the Tunnel

Some time in 1935 Leo Rowsome had a conversation with Séamus Ó Duilearga, the director of the newly formed Irish Folklore Commission. As a result the two of them approached Séamus Clandillon, the director of the Irish radio station 2RN, with a proposal for a series of broadcast concerts of Irish music, whose recordings would be held by the Folklore Commission. 2RN was probably the only institution with enough money to fund such an enterprise, although it tended to favour the music of trios and quartets as well as the new ceilidh bands over the work of individual players.

The accountants at 2RN took one look at the proposal, and declared it "fiscally irresponsible in the extreme." The idea was whittled down to a single afternoon event to be held in Phoenix Park the following year, sponsored by 2RN, but with admission charges in order to placate the accountants. Leo Rowsome enthusiastically took charge of the project, and by word of mouth, letters, telegrams, and even a couple of telephonic exchanges he invited all the musicians he knew. They in turn invited other musicians, who extended the invitation to yet others, so that by the early spring every pennywhistle player from Donegal down to Kerry knew of the event – and expected to be given star billing as well. Somebody started a rumour that Michael Coleman himself would be coming over, and Rowsome said nothing to deny the rumour in order to encourage attendance.

The big day came at last, and it even stopped raining for a while. The Aughrim Slopes Trio of Paddy Kelly, Jack Mulkere, and Joe Mills opened with their popular signature tune of Lament After the Battle of Aughrim. James Ennis led his Fingal Trio on the pipes with The Salamanca Reel, before Michael Grogan stepped up with his accordeon to reel off The Drunken Tailor followed of course by Teetotaller. Frank O'Higgins took up his fiddle to play Do You Want Any More? and without waiting for an answer went straight into a medley of reels. Then Neilie Boyle slipped in a couple of hornpipes, and so it went on until finally Leo Rowsome took the stage and played The Copperplate Reel on the pipes in a way that astounded the whole crowd.

There were small groups of musicians huddled together in odd corners of the Park. Johnny Doran gave a lively rendition of Colonel Fraser to a few privileged onlookers, while elsewhere Pádraig O'Keeffe demonstrated Kerry Slides to a bemused audience of Dublin street urchins. There were stepdancers all over, relishing the opportunity to practice the skills which they hadn't used since the Dance Halls Act had been enforced the previous year. From the nearby Zoo the sounds of various animals mingled with the music. At last, long after sunset, the Siamsa Mor Band took the stage, and after playing a few reels finished the proceedings with The Soldier's Song.

The crowd trooped down to the nearest station, and boarded the Underground for home. Suddenly Bart Henry picked up his fiddle and began playing his Favourite. He was answered by the Pages playing The High Road to Galway, which young Seamus Ennis immediately countered with The Rocky Road to Dublin as the train moved off. Neilie Boyle played Pigeon on the Gate, and then Michael Gorman showed him exactly how he thought it should be played. The two fiddlers glared at each other until Tommy Whyte from Ballinakill struck up with Merrily Kissed the Quaker's Wife. Leo Rowsome played an extraordinarily syncopated version of The Blackbird, accompanied by a bones player, that seemed to last for ages.

Nobody got off the train, and as word spread that the music was going on people from the streets bought platform tickets and at each station some musicians emerged from the train to play to the crowded assembly on the platform. The train ran on through the night, but had to stop to refuel several times, and also had to call at St. James Gate Brewery more than once to replenish supplies of stout for the bar. There wasn't a bodhran or bouzouki in sight, but Flann O'Brien introduced a couple of Greek zither players who were resting from his novel; Timmy O and Dan Eos, who were joined, by a Spanish lady about the hour of twelve at night, called Dona Ferentes.

Finally the Monday morning commuters appeared on the platforms to get to work. The tired musicians straggled from the train and emerged at Emmet Station from where Leo Rowsome led them to Bewley's Café playing Boil The Breakfast Early.

If Radió Éireann (as 2RN was by now known) did make any recordings of the music these disappeared at some time on the infamous tip on the roof of their Henry Street offices. The accountants, who later went on to found The Guinness School of Creative Accounting, managed to bury the bar expenditure somewhere in the Petty Cash. The Dublin Underground Railway made a handsome profit from the night, which went a long way toward filling the Locomotive Replacement Fund.