Happy St. Stephens Day

Early one morning, Irish soldiers set out to attack a Viking camp, hoping to catch the invaders while they still slept. Or so the legend goes.

As they approached, a wren sitting upon a drum at the edge of the camp pecked at a few crumbs that lay upon the top of the drum.  The rata-tatat of the wren woke the boy whose drum it was, and who had been set as a guard.  Seeing the approaching enemy, the boy set to drumming furiously, awakening the Vikings who quickly gathered to thwart the Irish soldiers.

For the wren's betrayal, his kind was hunted by boys in Ireland on St. Stephen's day, December 26. The boys, dressed in masks and straw suits, would take the dead Wren door to door and perform to get food or earn money to "bury the wren."

The custom lives on in some parts of Ireland, but today the Wrenboys use fake wrens.

The wren, the wren, the king of all birds,

St. Stephen's Day was caught in the furze,

Up with the kettle and down with the pan,

And give us a penny to bury the wren.

Happy Holidays to all.  I shall be posting more this week as I have a respite and time blog.