Festschrift for Tadhg Foley
Mere Planter and Fíor-Ghael Bernard O’Donoghue 283
Mere Planter and Fíor-Ghael Bernard O’Donoghue For Tadhg Foley in veneration Jack Sweeney had been wounded at Verdun and revered British virtues. My father said he’d turn up the volume on Housewives’ Choice if ever ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ coincided with Jack walking past to work at Mac’s. Jer Mac wanted the Germans to win the war, grunting assent to Lord Haw Haw’s taunts. But Jack revered Jer too, a tasty farmer who planted rows of sycamore and ash along the passage to his yard. Every May, Jack and Phil Micheál marched out with pikes over their shoulders to trim the long hedge with slashers, shaping an avenue that would have graced the drive to any big house. Now overrun by fern and foxglove. You think of a public servant with an Irish name, who died in a lonely copse-edge near Abingdon.
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