This is a lovely slender walking stick which would suit a taller lady or gent. To enhance the natural beauty of the wood I have made this into an item of cultural signifigance as it is inscribed with a very old and little known faction fighting poem from Kerry, which dates from 1740 and was written by Murroch O Connor. It goes like this.
Before Desmoneans would their cudgels yield, with spailpins they would try the doubtful field; no scimitar can pierce that hardend wood, which many a fight at fairs and patrons stood; a broken skull ensues at every stroke, they’ll bend with blows but never can be broke. Oft I have seen two landlords at a fair, where tenants with their sheep and cows repair; A quarrel first betwixt themselves create. Then urge their clans to end the fierce debate;
Off go hats and coats, the fight begins. Some strike the heads, while others strike the shins. The winding cudgels round their foreheads play, they need no leaders to begin the fray. Where ere the brave O Donoghues engage, well known with cudgels, such brave fights to wage; All must submit to their stiffening blows, unless the O Sullivans their sticks oppose; then victory on either side divides; no emnity in either partys seen, Till the next meeting on some neighbouring green.
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