Am Fear a Bha ag Obair ann an New Waterford

GF251i01 AM FEAR A BHA 'G OBAIR ANN AN NEW WATERFORD

Beulaiche: Tena ni'n Frank Mhìcheil Ruaidh | Christina Marley
Tar-Sgrìobhadh: Oighrig NicRaing

A' fear seo, bha e ag obair a's na mèinnean. Agus, o, fhuair e fìdheall ùr. Agus a h-uile seachdain, bhiodh e 'cuir flask do ruma 's a' chlub bag. Agus, o, bha e mu sia mìosan, tha mi 'creidsinn air falbh. Thuirt e, "Uill," os' esan, "''s tha ùine mhór nach fhaca mi m' athair 's mo mhàthair. 'S feumaidh mi," os' esan, "a dhol dhachaigh 'gan coimhead." Alright, thàinig e dhachaigh 's chunnaic e fear a... an duine a bha seo a' tighinn a's a' bhàta suas às a' Phòn.
"O," os' esan ri 'mhàthair, "Tha mise 'dol a challadh an fhir ud a-nall. Tha toil agam," os' esan, "e choimhead deamar a tha cho math 's a tha an fhìdheall agam."
"Alright," os' esan—os' ise, a mhàthair. Chall e 's thàinig e, an duine sin, dha 'n taigh. 'S thug e a-staigh e 's shuidh e air an t-seithir. 'S thug e deagh dhram dha.
Os' esan. "Seo," os' esan, "an fhìdheall a-nist." Os' esan, "Feuch anist gun doir thu deagh cheòl aiste." Alright, theann e air seinn. Theann am bodach a bha sin air seinn na fìdhleadh 's a bha mhàthair 'g obair air bruich arain 's bha an taigh a' fàs cho teth.
Thuirt e ris, "Thugainn amach fo té dha 'n na craobhan amuigh ann a' siod 's bheir sinn leinn na sèithrichean amach. Agus, faodaidh tu playadh gu leòr a dheanamh a sin."
Bha e 'g obair air playadh's bhiodh e 'g obair air playadh leis an fhidheall 's a' bualadh a chasan air an talamh.
"Uill," os' esan, an duine, "feumaidh mise," os' esan, "a bhith 'falbh anist."
Os' esan, "Tha i 'fàs car anmoch. 'S bidh 'ad a' wondraigeadh càit' an deachaidh mi." Uill, dh'fhalbh e dhachaigh co-dhiù. 'S an oidhche sin, rinn i uiste mór, o, uist' uamhasach. A' bheil fhios agaibh gu dé? 'Sa mhadainn, nuair a dh'éirich mo mhàthair, chuir i na creamaran a's na tuill a rinn na casan aig a' bhodach a' playadh na fìdhl'.

Translation:

THE MAN WHO WORKED IN NEW WATERFORD

This fellow, he worked in the mines, and oh, he got a new fiddle and every week he would put a flask of rum in the club bag. And oh, he was about six months away, I believe, he said. "Well," he said, "it's been a long time since I saw my mother and father and I must," said he, "go home to see them." All right, he came home and he saw a man…this man…coming in the boat up from the Pond. "Oh," said he to his mother, "I am going to call….to call that fellow over. I want," said he, "him to check to see how good my fiddle is." "All right," said…said she, his mother. He called and took that man to the house and took him in and sat him on the chair and gave him a good drink. Said he, "Here's the fiddle now," he said, "now you be sure to take good music out of it." All right, he began to play, that old fellow began to play the fiddle. And his mother was baking bread and the house was getting so hot and he said to him, "Come outside under one of the trees out there and we will take the chairs with us outside and you can play all you want there." He was playing and playing the fiddle and stomping his feet on the ground.
"Well," said he, "I must," said he, "leave now, it is getting quite late and they will be wondering where I went." Well, he went home anyhow, and that night, it rained heavily-oh, awful rain-you wouldn't know…In the morning, when my mother arose, she put the creamers in the holes which the old fellow's feet made while playing the fiddle!