'Wisha my bones are exhausted, and there's no use in talking,
My heart is scalded, a wirrasthru.'
(Old Song.)
'Where is my use in staying here, so there's no use in talking, go I will.' ('Knocknagow.') Often the expression takes this form:—'Ah 'tis a folly to talk, he'll never get that money.'
Sometimes the original Irish is in question form. Cid tracht ('what talking?' i.e. 'what need of talking?') which is Englished as follows:—'Ah what's the use of talking, your father will never consent.' These expressions are used in conversational Irish-English, not for the purpose of continuing a narrative as in the original Irish, but—as appears from the above examples—merely to add emphasis to an assertion.
'It's a fine day that.' This expression, which is common enough among us, is merely a translation from the common Irish phrase is breagh an lá é sin, where the demonstrative sin (that) comes last in the proper Irish construction: but when imitated in English it looks queer to an English listener or reader.
'There is no doubt that is a splendid animal.' This expression is a direct translation from the Irish Ní'l contabhairt ann, and is equivalent to the English 'doubtless.' It occurs often in the Scottish dialect also:—'Ye need na doubt I held my whisht' (Burns).
You are about to drink from a cup. 'How much shall I put into this cup for you?' 'Oh you may give me the full of it.' This is Irish-English: in England they would say—'Give it to me full.' Our expression is a translation from the Irish language. For example, speaking of a drinking-horn, an old writer says, a lán do'n lionn, literally, 'the full of it of ale.' In Silva Gadelica we find lán a ghlaice deise do losaibh, which an Irishman translating literally would render 'the full of his right hand of herbs,' while an Englishman would express the same idea in this way—'his right hand full of herbs.'
Our Irish-English expression 'to come round a person' means to induce or circumvent him by coaxing cuteness and wheedling: 'He came round me by his sleudering to lend him half a crown, fool that I was': 'My grandchildren came round me to give them money for sweets.' This expression is borrowed from Irish:—'When the Milesians reached Erin tanic a ngáes timchioll Tuathi De Danand, 'their cuteness circumvented (lit. 'came round') the Dedannans.' (Opening sentence in Mesca Ulad in Book of Leinster: Hennessy.)
'Shall I do so and so?' 'What would prevent you?' A very usual Hibernian-English reply, meaning 'you may do it of course; there is nothing to prevent you.' This is borrowed or translated from an Irish phrase. In the very old tale The Voyage of Maildune, Maildune's people ask, 'Shall we speak to her [the lady]?' and he replies Cid gatas uait ce atberaid fria. 'What [is it] that takes [anything] from you though ye speak to her,' as much as to say, 'what harm will it do you if you speak to her?' equivalent to 'of course you may, there's nothing to prevent you.'
That old horse is lame of one leg, one of our very usual forms of expression, which is merely a translation from bacach ar aonchois. (MacCurtin.) 'I'll seem to be lame, quite useless of one of my hands.' (Old Song.)
Such constructions as amadán fir 'a fool of a man' are very common in Irish, with the second noun in the genitive (fear 'a man,' gen. fir) meaning 'a man who is a fool.' Is and is ail ollamhan, 'it is then he is a rock of an ollamh (doctor), i.e. a doctor who is a rock [of learning]. (Book of Rights.) So also 'a thief of a fellow,' 'a steeple of a man,' i.e. a man who is a steeple—so tall. This form of expression is however common in England both among writers and speakers. It is noticed here because it is far more general among us, for the obvious reason that it has come to us from two sources (instead of one)—Irish and English.
'I removed to Dublin this day twelve months, and this day two years I will go back again to Tralee.' 'I bought that horse last May was a twelvemonth, and he will be three years old come Thursday next.' 'I'll not sell my pigs till coming on summer': a translation of air theacht an t-samhraidh. Such Anglo-Irish expressions are very general, and are all from the Irish language, of which many examples might be given, but this one from 'The Courtship of Emer,' twelve or thirteen centuries old, will be enough. [It was prophesied] that the boy would come to Erin that day seven years—dia secht m-bliadan. (Kuno Meyer.)
In our Anglo-Irish dialect the expression at all is often duplicated for emphasis: 'I'll grow no corn this year at all at all': 'I have no money at all at all.' So prevalent is this among us that in a very good English grammar recently published (written by an Irishman) speakers and writers are warned against it. This is an importation from Irish. One of the Irish words for 'at all' is idir (always used after a negative), old forms itir and etir:—nir bo tol do Dubthach recc na cumaile etir, 'Dubthach did not wish to sell the bondmaid at all.' In the following old passage, and others like it, it is duplicated for emphasis Cid beac, itir itir, ges do obar: 'however little it is forbidden to work, at all at all.' ('Prohibitions of beard,' O'Looney.)
When it is a matter of indifference which of two things to choose, we usually say 'It is equal to me' (or 'all one to me'), which is just a translation of is cuma liom (best rendered by 'I don't care'). Both Irish and English expressions are very common in the respective languages. Lowry Looby says:—'It is equal to me whether I walk ten or twenty miles.' (Gerald Griffin.)
'I am a bold bachelor, airy and free,
Both cities and counties are equal to me.'
(Old Song.)
'Do that out of the face,' i.e. begin at the beginning and finish it out and out: a translation of deun sin as eudan.
'The day is rising' means the day is clearing up—the rain, or snow, or wind is ceasing—the weather is becoming fine: a common saying in Ireland: a translation of the usual Irish expression tá an lá ag éirghidh. During the height of the great wind storm of 1842 a poor shooler or 'travelling man' from Galway, who knew little English, took refuge in a house in Westmeath, where the people were praying in terror that the storm might go down. He joined in, and unconsciously translating from his native Irish, he kept repeating 'Musha, that the Lord may rise it, that the Lord may rise it.' At which the others were at first indignant, thinking he was asking God to raise the wind higher still. (Russell.)
Sometimes two prepositions are used where one would do:—'The dog got in under the bed:' 'Where is James? He's in in the room—or inside in the room.'
'Old woman, old woman, old woman,' says I,
'Where are you going up so high?'
'To sweep the cobwebs off o' the sky.'
Whether this duplication off of is native Irish or old English it is not easy to say: but I find this expression in 'Robinson Crusoe':—'For the first time since the storm off of Hull.'
Eva, the witch, says to the children of Lir, when she had turned them into swans:—Amach daoibh a chlann an righ: 'Out with you [on the water] ye children of the king.' This idiom which is quite common in Irish, is constantly heard among English speakers:—'Away with you now'—'Be off with yourself.'
'Are you going away now?' One of the Irish forms of answering this is Ní fós, which in Kerry the people translate 'no yet,' considering this nearer to the original than the usual English 'not yet.'
The usual way in Irish of saying he died is fuair sé bás, i.e. 'he found (or got) death,' and this is sometimes imitated in Anglo-Irish:—'He was near getting his death from that wetting'; 'come out of that draught or you'll get your death.'