Page:Folk-lore - A Quarterly Review. Volume 15, 1904.djvu/491

 Collectanea. 459

going on must give the churn "a brash," that is, either turn the handle or take a few turns with the dash. This will prevent their taking the butter off the churn.

A red rag tied round a cow's tail will prevent her being over- looked.

I have lately come across a paper on superstitions which was sent me by a friend living in county Tipperary in the year 1888. That all local superstitions had not entirely died out she found when she tried to make butter under the superintendence of their old cook. Up to that time she thought it was merely necessary to churn the cream, but it appeared that there were still " Luri- gadauns " to be circumvented : — little men, dressed in red jackets peaked all round, and jockey caps, and wearing swords, which they use instead of wands. These "Lurigadauns " have a tiresome habit of jumping down the air-hole of the churn unless you are extremely careful, and spiriting away the cream, leaving you to churn away at the skim-milk in blissful ignorance for hour after hour. They have a great objection to the smell of turf-smoke, so the best plan is to put a sod of smouldering turf under the churn and drop a few ashes into the cream, repeating a short incantation which my correspondent did not feel competent to spell. If however, not- withstanding your precautions, you have cause to suspect that the " Lurigadaun " has got into the churn, it is advisable to drop a pinch of salt into it, and he will at once decamp.

" A lady was in the habit of getting a ' wise woman ' in the village to churn for her. Strange to say, she always succeeded in filling the firkin even when there was less cream than usual. One day the woman asked the lady to put off the churning till the next morning as otherwise she would not be able to come. The lady declined, and sent for a man from the yard to churn the cream. He churned, and churned, but no butter came. A second man was called in with a like result ; so they sent for a third, and the three men kept on churning for the whole day, ' an niver a tashte of the butter did they see.' Shortly after this the woman died. The priest was called in, and she confessed to being a ' pishogue,' and to having a dead man's hand with which she wrought her spells. It was solemnly delivered up to the priest, as otherwise her soul could find no rest.

" A farmer in county Limerick married a ' pishogue ' a few years ago. So long as she lived she made him any amount of butter,