We present an extract from Me Jewel and Darlin' Dublin by Éamonn MacThomáis, illustrated by Michael O'Brien - a new edition of this Dublin classic, originally published in 1974, has just been released to mark the 50th anniversary of The O’Brien Press.
Step back in time to the markets, pawn shops, street characters and slang of old Dublin. Éamonn MacThomáis knew his beloved city like the back of his hand and traces its history from Brian Boru, through the Huguenots, past risings and revolutions, right up to his own day. Full of historical facts, anecdotes and Dublin wit, evoking the spirit, the characters and colours, the sights, sounds and smells of old Dublin.
STREET GAMES
'ALL IN, ALL IN, THE GAME IS BROKE UP. All in, all in, the game is broke up.’ Someone wasn’t playing the game (Re-lieve-eeo); at least he wasn’t playing it according to the Rowserstown rule book. So the words rang out in the night, like the old town criers: ‘All in, all in, the game is broke up.’ You could hear it a half-a-mile away. It always seemed to come just as you had found a good hiding-place in the Robbers’ Den or across the Camac river near the old mill.
After the ‘All in’ sound we would come back to the street-lamp near the steps to the high road. The flies and moths were playing their own chasing game around the bright glow of the old gas lamp. ‘What is it now?’ ‘Who broke up the game? Tell me who it was and I’ll burst him.’ ‘Let’s play another game.’ ‘Let’s go home.’ ‘Let’s start a fire.’ ‘Let’s box the fox in the seven orchards.’ ‘Let’s go up to Goldenbridge and play "Mind the Thread".’
‘You-a, you-a, all the gang! You-a, you-a, all the gang! Don’t forget your hoops’ (a bicycle wheel without spokes or tyre and a piece of stick to beat the hoop along). Within seconds, fourteen hoops would be belting up Rowserstown and down to Kilmainham cross-roads. There were no traffic lights in those days and, if you stopped to let a tram pass, you were chicken.
Now for ‘Mind the Thread’. ‘Who’s going to be on it? OK, you two.’ Two boys, one at each side of the path, would sit on the ground pretending to be holding a piece of thread between them. It was held about six inches off the ground. The game would start as a man or woman came walking up the path. As soon as they came quite near, one of the boys would start shouting: ‘Mrs., Mrs., mind the thread’. The poor woman thinks there’s a thread on the ground so she starts lifting her legs, jumping and dancing to avoid it. ‘Ah Mrs., Mrs., don’t Mrs.’ – that really had her hopping and we all sitting on the far side of the road, holding our sides with the laughter. Of course, some people knew we had no thread and entered into the game for fun. I played it a thousand times and I never remember anyone getting cross or cranky. Some were even surprised they could hop so high. If they had a sour face coming to the thread, they usually had a smile and a laugh leaving it.
‘Follow the Leader’ was a dangerous game, particularly if you were at the end of the line. The leader started off and the rest had to follow in single file. Anything the leader did, the others behind had to do also – knocking on doors, ringing bells, rattling ash-bin lids. By the time the last few got to the door or ash-bin, the owner was on the scene and all those at the rear of the line ended up with a few clouts on the ear or a kick in the backside.
‘Kick the Can’ was another favourite. I think this was invented for those who couldn’t afford a football. The boy ‘on it’ stood by the can and we had to kick the can without the boy ‘on it’ touching us. A lot of skill was required because some boys nearly sat on the can – nevertheless the can was often kicked up and down the road. The game usually ended with a good chase from Mr Kearney, who always threatened to get the po-liss. Poor Mr Kearney, he never had a dull evening.
We used to play another game called ‘Rope the Door’. We would tie a rope to the door-knob and pull hard, then someone would knock on the door. Inside, poor Mr Kearney would be trying to open the door in and, at the same time, we would pull the door out. The tug-o’-war would go on for about five minutes. Then Mr Kearney would slip out the back-door wearing a pair of white runners and the Goldenbridge Steeplechase would begin. In later years, Mr Kearney told me that while he was mad with rage at the start of the chase, he was always in great form at the end of it. He was surprised that he could run so fast – he often caught a few of us – and it also helped to keep his weight down.
Whips and wooden tops, Taw in the Hole (marbles played like golf), Kattie, Combo Round Towers, Hide and Seek, Tip and Tig, Blind Man’s Buff, hurling and football were all played on the road until you heard ‘L.O.B., L.O.B. – Look out, boys, it’s the cops.’ Some children called them police, others called them cops, peelers, rawsers, or po-liss. The local sergeant often arrived on his upstairs model of a bicycle with its weak carbide lamp. The L.O.B. rarely failed. Even if it did, there was always plenty of time to get away. The sergeant took about ten minutes to get down off his bicycle, take the bicycle clips off his trousers and put out his carbide lamp before producing his notebook and pencil.
Card-playing was another favourite – rummy, pontoon, 15s, 25s, Snap, Old Maid, Dawn and Solo. Of these, Dawn was the most popular. It was played like this. The nine of trumps was known as Big Fat and the five of trumps as Little Fat. You played it with partners like whist. If you wanted your partner to lead with a certain suit of cards, you would work the tip-off system: Spades – ‘I saw your father digging the garden to-day’; Diamonds – ‘Mary Murphy’s getting married. Her fella gave her a lovely ring’; Clubs – start singing ‘The dear little shamrock, The sweet little shamrock’; Hearts – Put your hand on your chest and say: ‘I’ve got an awful pain there’. Pretty primitive stuff, but it’s surprising how it worked.
Me Jewel and Darlin' Dublin is published by The O'Brien Press.
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