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I'm sure you all know the problems that snakes can bring. Like all that hissing, and scaring the pretty girls when you're not right there to protect them, and getting the kittens tied up in knots. Well now, a very long time ago, it was like that in Ireland too. But more so. The snakes stole milk from the cows, and demanded the farmers not plow near their burrows and the shepherds not graze sheep by the rocks where they sunned themselves. When the people complained the King Snake threatened to have snakes poison all the horses and oxen so that all Ireland would go hungry for lack of plowing. And if the people ever complained again the king Snake threatened to have the snakes stop eating the frogs so that all Ireland would go thirsty when the frogs' eggs and the tadpoles choked all the springs and streams and ponds and wells.
Well, the people weren't sure that Irish snakes were poisonous. And they wondered what the snakes would eat if they didn't eat frogs. But on the whole, it was thought better to put up with a bit of nuisance from the snakes than to risk starvation. Things carried on in a sort of uneasy truce for the longest time, until one year a young Christian priest named Patrick came to the island. He wasn't Saint Patrick then. He hadn't done his miracles yet. Most often he was just plain Paddy and not a lot of people paid much attention to him and his preaching about Christ and the miracles and mysteries of the world to come.
The years went by and Paddy wasn't getting a lot of converts to Christianity. He knew that he needed a really big miracle. At the same time, though, some of the people thought, that with all of his talk of miracles, Paddy might just be the man to get rid of the snakes. And if he tried and failed, well then they could say to the King Snake that it wasn't the Irish' fault. It was that newcomer priest fellow.
Well, Paddy took up the challenge. He knew that he would have to tell a small lie and perform two small miracles to get the job done. But he trusted that The Lord would forgive the lie and permit the two miracles for the sake of bringing all Ireland into the Church. So Paddy went right up to the King Snake and said; 'Snake, The Lord is coming to Ireland this afternoon. He's going to ask the people what their biggest problem is. And you know that they are going to tell Him it's you snakes. He will probably be so angry that he will command me to turn all you snakes into bright red earthworms and feed you to the frogs.' Well, the King Snake guessed that Paddy was telling a tall one. And, anyway, he wasn't going to scared by just words. He reared himself up to order the snakes around him to go off and attack the horses and oxen. But Paddy was too fast for him. Before the words were out of the King Snake's mouth, Paddy had turned every snake in view into a squirmy red earthworm.
Now that's a small miracle as miracles go and Paddy was pushing the limits of miracles that he could do on his own. But the King Snake had never seen a real miracle and I guess he was impressed. Paddy seized his chance and said; 'Now snake, imagine what I could do with The Lord's help. But I don't want to be celebrated all through history for turning snakes into earthworms. So, I'll make you a deal. I'll conjure up a magic bag and put all of you snakes into it. And don't worry, there will be an extra nice, silk-lined, fold inside the bag for you to curl up in too. Then I'll hang the bag over the cliff here where The Lord won't see you when he comes this afternoon. When He asks about the snakes, I'll tell Him that I have already taken care of the matter. Tomorrow, after He has gone, I'll come back to the cliff, pull up the bag and set you all free.'
'But I want you to promise me something in return. When I set you back on land you'll have to promise, on your honour as the King Snake, not to plague the Irish anymore, forever.' Well, the snake was flattered that Paddy had called him King Snake for the first time. And an overnight in a sack of snakes isn't such a bad thing - for a snake. And even if he did keep his word not to plague the Irish for a while, Paddy would be gone soon enough and things could get back to their old ways. So he said; 'Well now, it's just until tomorrow you say?' 'I promise you King Snake, just until tomorrow.' answered Paddy. 'And it's the same for all my snakes in Ireland as it is for me?' said the King Snake, getting used to be addressed with a proper respect. 'Yes. I promise you King Snake. All your subjects in Ireland will be safe in the magic bag until tomorrow.' 'Well then' said the King Snake, sounding very kinglike and majestic; 'We agree to your proposal.'
And with that Paddy performed his second miracle, conjuring up a magic bag so large and strong on the inside that it could hold all of the tens of thousands of snakes in Ireland, and so small and light on the outside that he picked it up with ease, tied it tightly closed with a length of stout rope and hung it down over the edge of the cliff, down toward the sea.
Now, there are those who claim they know about miracles and things and say that this is just a tall tale. And there are others who say that there were never any snakes in Ireland anyway. But those who really know, know where there is a tall cliff just at the edge of the sea. And they know where on the cliff there are the marks of an invisible rope hanging something down toward the sea. And they know that if you listen when the waves and the wind are just right, you can hear the King Snake whispering; 'Paddy?' 'Paddy?' soft as the whispers of little waves going in an out on the beach. Then when the big breakers crash up and slide back over the shingle the hiss and boom sound like; 'Is IT TOMORRow yet?' And if you listen very closely you can hear Saint Patrick's voice like the wind's moaning; 'NoOOo snake. It's not tomoOOOOOorooow yet.' Back Top
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Copyright:
Text - © 1995-2007 John Oliver Dendy
Design and Art - © 2001-7 John & Elaine Dendy
Web Layout - © 2001-7 John Oliver Dendy
Revised 11 February 2007