Missing Link found in
Donegal
Bing Crosby. Dorothy
Lamour, and Bob Hope
starred in a number
of films made in the
1950s with titles such
as "The Road to
Morocco", "The
Road to Singapore",
and "The Road to
Rio".
They were light hearted
Hollywood musicals,
entertainment for the
masses in a genre that
British film makers
sought to emulate, but
never mastered the knack.
All kinds of dipsy-doodle
adventures lay in the
paths of the trio as
they sang and danced
their way to the various
exotic locales mentioned
in the titles.
Sadly, so very sadly,
there is no such happiness
associated with the
latest news about the
now famous, some say
infamous, plans to build
a by-pass road, more
properly called a through-pass
road which will sever
the town of Ballyshannon,
its inhabitants, and
businesses into separate
sections.
Allingham Bridge across
what was once the salmon
rich Erne River joins
the northern and southern
parts of the town. The
planned by-pass, through-pass,
will separate, not join,
the areas of Ballyshannon
through which it will
be driven. And at what
a cost!
The original estimate
of slightly more than
30 million euros has
already ballooned to
70 million euros, and
the start of construction
has been pushed back
because the government
doesn't have the cash
to pay for it.
"Thirty million,
forty million, fifty
million. Do I hear sixty
million? Sixty million
over here. Sixty-five
million. Sixty-five
million. Seventy million.
Seventy million. Any
advance on seventy million?
At seventy million,
going once, going twice
. Sold to the highest
bidder at seventy million
euros!"
But this isn't what was
advertised. The original
package included a link
from the Donegal Road
to the Rossnowlagh Road.
"Sorry, sir, but
that was only a pious
wish. We can't have
links added on all over
the place. Where would
it end?
"Just think of the
tourists. Come to Donegal
and see Ireland's own
genuine missing link!"
But there's no link to
show them.
"Quite right, sir.
You see, it's missing.
And they can tell their
friends back home that
they actually saw it
was missing!"
Do you seriously mean
you would make people
travel to see something
that isn't there so
they could boast that
they saw it wasn't there?
"Now you're getting
the hang of it, sir."
"Next lot, Jim.
Ladies and gentlemen,
lot number 123--a fairy
bridge. Details in your
catalogues."
Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
For fear of little
men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red
cap,
And white owl's
feather!
Down along the rocky
shore
Some make their
home,
They live on crispy
pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
Of the black mountain
lake,
With frogs for their
watch-dogs,
All night awake.
High on the hill-top
The old King sits;
He is now so old
and gray
He 's nigh lost
his wits.
With a bridge of
white mist
Columbkill he crosses,
On his stately journeys
From Slieveleague
to Rosses;
Or going up with
music
On cold starry nights
To sup with the
Queen
Of the gay Northern
Lights.
They stole little
Bridget
For seven years
long;
When she came down
again
Her friends were
all gone.
They took her lightly
back,
Between the night
and morrow,
They thought that
she was fast asleep,
But she was dead
with sorrow.
They have kept her
ever since
Deep within the
lake,
On a bed of flag-leaves,
Watching till she
wake.
By the craggy hill-side,
Through the mosses
bare,
They have planted
thorn-trees
For pleasure here
and there.
If any man so daring
As dig them up in
spite,
He shall find their
sharpest thorns
In his bed at night.
Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
For fear of little
men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red
cap,
And white owl's
feather!
"This is the original,
the one and only fairy
bridge of white mist
that William Allingham
wrote about. Do I hear
any offers? You, sir?
I don't see any bridge!
"Of course you don't,
sir. You're in Donegal!
What did you expect?"
"Jim, throw that
man out! He's caused
enough trouble for one
day."
Readers will find more
of Allingham's poems
on this web site at
poetry.
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