passes away, and goes to the feast of the Saviour; and about the day,
how bright the morning is, and the birds singing; and a man goes out to
work, and he comes in tired out, and sits by the fire to talk with his
neighbour; and the night comes on, and he says his prayers, and thinks
of the feast of the Saviour; and about the seasons, the spring so nice,
and the summer for work; and autumn brings the harvest, and winter
brings Christmas, the feast of the Saviour. In Irish and English he made
that.' And this is another story: 'A carpenter made a plough for
Callinan one time, and when it came, it was the worst ever made; and he
said to his brother: "I'll make a song that will cut him down
altogether." But his brother said: "Do not, for if you cut him down, it
will take his means of living from him, but make a song in his praise."
And he did so, for he wouldn't like to do him any harm.' I have asked if
he made any love-songs, and was told of one he had made 'about a girl he
met going to a bog. He praised herself first, and then he said he had
information as well that she had fifty gold guineas saved up.'

His having been well off seems to make his poetic merit the greater in
the eyes of farmers; for one says: 'He was as good a poet, for he had a
plough and horses and a good way of living, and never sang in any
public-house; but Raftery had no way of living but to go round and to
mark some house to go to, and then all the neighbours would gather in to
hear him.' Another says: 'Raftery was the best poet, for he had nothing
else to do, and laid his mind to it; but Callinan was a strong farmer,
and had other things to think of;' and another says: 'Callinan was very
apt: it was all Raftery could do to beat him;' and another sums up by
saying: 'The both of them was great.' But a supporter of Raftery says:
'He was the best; he put his words so strong and stiff, following one
another.'