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    Frogs and Snails and Old Dog’S Tales: Short Stories from Ireland a Children’S Book for Adults
    Frogs and Snails and Old Dog’S Tales: Short Stories from Ireland a Children’S Book for Adults
    Frogs and Snails and Old Dog’S Tales: Short Stories from Ireland a Children’S Book for Adults
    Ebook279 pages3 hours

    Frogs and Snails and Old Dog’S Tales: Short Stories from Ireland a Children’S Book for Adults

    By Frank Murney

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    About this ebook

    Red Morgan, Po Hillen, and the gang are reaching the end of their school days. The now infamous class of 3C is about to be released on an unsuspecting world. They may be older, but their exploits continue to be as crazy as ever in the 1960s and 1970s.

    In this third book in the series, Anto Falsoni continues to act as the bookie for the many schemes the gang dreams upand somehow always comes out on the winning side. After interviews during the school year, most of the gang is recruited to complete a three-month course in Dublin with a company intending to open a factory in Newry. Living together in the big city leads to many hilarious situations both at work and at home. Their adventures, if anything, rival their school days.

    It was just a short time ago when the boys would only talk about football; now the conversation has turned to plans of purchasing engagement rings. Even at this stage of their lives, the banter and teasing never stops as they move through life at a breathtaking pace that embraced chaos with what appeared to be a natural ethos.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTrafford Publishing
    Release dateAug 11, 2011
    ISBN9781426964862
    Frogs and Snails and Old Dog’S Tales: Short Stories from Ireland a Children’S Book for Adults
    Author

    Frank Murney

    Frank Murney was born in Newry, County Down, Northern Ireland, and still lives there today. His martial arts career spanned more than thirty years and produced a book called Man in the Middle. Since retiring, he has written short stories based on life in Newry during the 1950s and 1960s. Visit him online at www.newrytales.com.

    Read more from Frank Murney

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      Book preview

      Frogs and Snails and Old Dog’S Tales - Frank Murney

      © Copyright 2011 Frank Murney.

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

      Printed in the United States of America.

      isbn: 978-1-4269-6484-8 (sc)

      isbn: 978-1-4269-6485-5 (hc)

      isbn: 978-1-4269-6486-2 (e)

      Library of Congress Control Number: 2011906120

      Trafford rev. 07/13/2011

      missing image file www.trafford.com

      North America & International

      toll-free: 1 888 232 4444 (USA & Canada)

      phone: 250 383 6864 fax: 812 355 4082

      SKU-000469698_TEXT.pdf

      Red Morgan, Po Hillen, and the gang are reaching the end of their school days. The now infamous class of 3C is about to be released on an unsuspecting world. They may be older, but their exploits continue to be as crazy as ever in the 1960s and 1970s.

      In this third book in the series, Anto Falsoni continues to act as the bookie for the many schemes the gang dreams up—and somehow always comes out on the winning side. After interviews during the school year, most of the gang is recruited to complete a three-month course in Dublin with a company intending to open a factory in Newry. Living together in the big city leads to many hilarious situations both at work and at home. Their adventures, if anything, rival their school days.

      It was just a short time ago when the boys would only talk about football; now the conversation has turned to plans of purchasing engagement rings.

      Even at this stage of their lives, the banter and teasing never stops as they move through life at a breathtaking pace that embraced chaos with what appeared to be a natural ethos.

      SKU-000469698_TEXT.pdf

      Dedicated to the memory of

      Nelly and Padge

      Special thanks to

      Sharon Oseas

      Hazel Abdulla

      Joyce Harvey

      For their generosity of time,

      encouragement

      and talent.

      Characters

      Due to the fact that the same characters appear in almost all the stories within, I hope it may be advantageous to describe them in advance rather than in each individual story.

      Places

      Due to the fact that many of the same places appear in almost all the stories within, I hope it may be advantageous to describe them in advance rather than in each individual story.

      Newry Town Centre

      1960

      missing image file

      Contents

      The Electric Guitar

      One Tooth Pete

      A Dog’s Life

      Jumpy’s Big Day

      The Storyteller

      The Talking Fish

      Visit to the Doctor

      The Great Sheep Caper

      The Coke Bottle Race

      Anto the Hero

      The Kiss of Life

      The Christmas Present

      The Class Project

      Excuse Me Sir

      The Glar Crossing

      My Ball Rules

      The Bet

      The Message Boy

      Hello Dublin

      First Day at Work

      Red’s Big Date

      Newry V Dublin

      The Ghost That Was Scared

      Home Again

      The Easter Egg

      Do You Know Where

      You Are?

      The Surprise Party

      The Border House Inn

      The Driving Test

      The Dare

      The Football Programmes

      The Club

      Dandelion Market

      Anything to Declare

      The Van

      The Drunken Driver

      Goodbye to Caples

      Anto’s Big Question

      The Engagement Party

      Po’s Wedding

      The Electric Guitar

      1960

      Happy Birthday, smiled Red, as he met Po walking along North Street.

      Po looked down at his feet.

      Ahhh, sure he’s all embarrassed.

      Piss off, you.

      Now Po, ya’ll have ta start behavin’ better than that, now that you’re a big sixteen.

      Piss off, you.

      And, ya’ll have ta stop that bad language, too, ya know.

      Frig off.

      My God, and here I am trying ta help ya with the growin’ up stuff and this is what I get, sure, I’m cut ta the bone.

      Will ya shut your mouth, will ya? Oh listen, I got loads a presents, ya know.

      Ya did? Tell me?

      I got a jumper from granny. I got a pair a trousers from the other granny. But the best present I got was from mom and dad.

      Well, what was it?

      A guitar.

      Wow, ya got a real guitar?

      Not just a guitar, but an electric one. It’s called a Broadway.

      Well, lucky you. Have ya tried it out, yet?

      No, not really, a just strummed it a little. It needs ta be plugged in and everythin’ to hear it right, ya know.

      Sure, I knew that. So when are ya goin’ ta have it all set up? I want ta hear it.

      Later.

      They arrived at Uncle Luigi’s Café and sat down in the first snug. Anto leaned over the counter with a broad grin across his face.

      How’s the birthday boy?

      Don’t you start, shithead, snapped Po.

      Jasus, isn’t that lovely. Ya wish one of your bestest friends in the whole world a happy birthday and he calls ya names, complained Anto, looking at Red.

      Sure, didn’t I get the same my own self when I met him, said Red, holding out his arms pleadingly.

      I know yous bastards, ya know, yous will find some way ta take the piss. I know yis only too well.

      Ah now, de ya hear that, Red? An all the trouble we went ta for him.

      What trouble?

      Don’t even know if we should tell him, Red, what de ya think?

      Ah sure, ya better, he’ll only whinge in ma ear all day.

      Anto disappeared for a moment and returned with a large parcel neatly wrapped in brown paper. He reached across the counter and handed it to Po.

      This is from Red and meself, smiled Anto.

      What’s this? a surprised Po managed to get out.

      Well, if ya open it ya’ll see, ya ejit, said Red, smiling.

      Po had the paper off in seconds. Inside, he found a dark blue hooded all-weather jacket. Not just any dark blue hooded all-weather jacket, but the very same jacket he stopped to look at every time he passed Kelly’s Man’s Shop window. He had pointed it out to Red about a dozen times.

      Oh, my God! Its ma jacket, the one I was after. This is it, the very one I wanted.

      Po was on his feet in seconds and had all the labels off and had the jacket on. He was walking around, admiring himself with a great smile across his face.

      How did yous know this was the one I wanted?

      Red looked at Anto and took a deep breath.

      Just a wild guess, he smiled.

      This is fab! Great! The best present, yet. Thanks very much, lads.

      Anto, see if he kisses me, I’ll punch him, I swear, said Red seriously.

      Red was too late, Po had his arms around Red’s neck and planted a big kiss on his cheek.

      Frig off will ya fruit. I told ya before not ta do that, people will think I’m a fruit like you, said Red, rubbing his cheek.

      Po looked up at Anto who was standing behind the counter with a large carving knife in his hand.

      Don’t even think about it, he growled at Po.

      Well, ya can take it off now, Po, said Red.

      No way, it’s staying where it is. I have been admiring this jacket for yonks. I’m keeping it on.

      Children, they’re all the same, said a straight-faced Red to Anto.

      Later that day Red knocked Po’s front door which, was promptly opened by his younger brother, Paul.

      He’s in the kitchen, he shouted, and disappeared past Red into the street.

      Red entered the hallway and went through to the kitchen, where he found Po and his mom sitting at the table. Red noticed one of Po’s hands heavily bandaged.

      Jasus, Po, what happened ta your hand?

      Well, ya may ask, snapped Po’s mom. He couldn’t wait for his father to get home to set up the guitar for him. He had ta do it himself, didn’t he? she said, getting up from the table and leaving the room, mumbling to herself.

      So, what happened? asked Red, sitting down.

      Stupid thing.

      What stupid thing?

      The stupid guitar.

      Right, so what did this stupid guitar do, then?

      Long story.

      So? Did ya ever tell a short one?

      You’re such a smart arse.

      Will ya tell me, will ya?

      Well, me dad said he had another part for the guitar he had to pick up, ya see.

      Yeah?

      Well, sure I only wanted ta hear it like, ya know?

      Yeah?

      Well, I put a plug on the thing, plugged it in.

      Jasus, I think I see where this is goin’.

      Well, sure it blew me across the kitchen, so it did.

      Ya plugged the guitar directly into the mains?

      Yeah.

      Ya moron! Ya plug the guitar into an amplifier, so ya do. Even I know that.

      Well, I know that too… now.

      Red put his face into his hands.

      *     *     *

      Later that day, and perhaps somewhat unfortunately, for Po, Red had arrived at Uncle Luigi’s before he did. That evening the story of Po’s little accident with the guitar had somehow managed to get around. Po had to walk the gauntlet from the door to the top counter.

      I hear you lit up the street with your new guitar, Po, smiled Jumpy.

      Will ya play us something with a bit of a kick to it, Po? added the Bishop.

      I heard he was only a flash in the pan, put in Dunno.

      Is it true ya can make sparks come outta your guitar, Po? asked Jammy.

      I heard that when ya play Po, the whole place lights up, smirked Kitter.

      Po never turned his head, he just kept walking until he reached the counter and the safety of the first snug, where he found the grinning faces of Red, Anto and Topcoat.

      Total friggin’ bastard whore, snarled Po at Red.

      Jasus, what did I do?

      Ya had to tell all them bastards, didn’t ya?

      Ach, Po, it just sorta slipped out, so it did.

      I’ll slip somethin’ in, my fist into your big mouth.

      Well, Po, intervened Anto, standing up and raising his hands in the air.

      We wish you a shocking Birthday, sang the well-rehearsed patrons of Uncle Luigi’s.

      Bastards, friggin’ whores, the lot of ya, muttered Po, playing with his bandaged hand.

      With friends like yous, who needs enemies?

      End

      One Tooth Pete

      1960

      Red and Po were walking along Hill Street in Newry on that Thursday evening chatting about Co. Down’s big match in the Ulster Final this coming Sunday. The match would be played in Clones, against Co. Cavan, with the winners to go into the All Ireland Semi Final against Offaly at Dublin’s Croke Park.

      We have by far the better forwards so we have, stated Po.

      I’m not arguing with that, what I am sayin’ is, that Cavan have one of the strongest defences in the country, said Red.

      I know that, but do ya think they will hold Paddy Docherty, or Breen Morgan or Sean O’Neill? No chance.

      The conversation was interrupted by the evening paper man, selling his papers outside the Imperial Hotel.

      Belfast Tele, Belfast Tele, Down in Sundays Ulster Final, came the high pitched voice of ‘One Tooth Pete’. He had acquired the name ten years ago when two of his last three teeth were removed. He only had one tooth left now, on the top, right at the front of his mouth and refused to have it removed, however black it had become. Pete was perhaps a little mentally deprived it could be said.

      Hi Pete, smiled Po.

      Hello Po and hello Red. How are ya all doing? Are ya goin’ on Sunday are ya?

      Of course, replied Red. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.

      "Yis are lucky buggers, wish I could

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