Two tales from when Alexander MacRae and then his widow had Ardroil Farm (see also our new list of Uig farms and their owners and rental). English follows.
Bha bean Alasdair na Riobhach ‘na boireannach diadhaibha bha cumail smachd theann air na searbhantan. Glè thric, anns a’ mhadainn an dèidh na leabhraichean bhiodh cùirt ann nam biodh amharus aice gu robh cuideigin air lochd a dheanamh.
‘Nuair a bha iad an Capadail, bha gille air an tac a bha dona gu droch cainnt, agus a feasgar so fhuair e sanais gu robh i dol a’ sheasamh aige larna-mhàireach as dèidh na leabhraichean.
“Ach,” arsa càch ris, “ma chanas tu rithe gur ann aig Alasdair fhèin a tha thus cluinntinn nan guidheachanm, chan eagal dhuit.”
Sin mar a thachair. Anns a’ mhadainn sheas i aige agus an dèidh earalachadh thubhairt i ris nach robh i tuigsinn idir caite a robh e a’ cluinntinn a leithid a dhroch cainnt.
“Chuala”, arsa esan, “aig fear a bhaile!”
Bha fear a bhaile air a chasan, ‘s a mach leis as dèidh a bhalach, le streath mhallachdan dè dheanadh e air na ‘m beireadh e air.
Mrs MacRae at Capadal was a very religious woman. The young lad on the farm was terrible for swearing, so she took him to task one day. On being asked where he had heard the swearwords, he replied, from Mr MacRae — who then took after the lad swearing as to what he would do to him.
Bhiodh bodaich Islibhig uaireigin a tighinn glè thric gu Triagh Lèire an Carnais a dh’iarraidh lugaichean. Là bha so, ‘nuair a ràinig iad, bha e gun tràghadh agus shuidh air an Iargainn a’ ghabhail “smoke” ach cha robh maidse aig duine agus chuir iad balach misionaraidh a bha còmhla riutha gu tigh Chapadail a dh’iarraid maidseachan. Chaidh a thoirt a steach agus dh’innis e thuras. Bha banntrach Alasdair na Riobhadh beò na sean aois agus chan fhuilingeadh i farainm a chluintinn air duine. “Who’s with you on the sands, dear,” she asked. “Butcher, Poacher and Todd, Siorraidh, Croot and Fox,” answered the lad.
The Islivig menfolk were often going to Leire Beach in Carnish to get lugworms. On this occasion they were too early and the tide was still in so they decided to have a smoke. They had no matches so they sent a lad to Capadal Farm House [as the villages had no other inhabitants at that time] for matches. The old lady hated nicknames being used. She asked the lad who was with him at the sands, to which he replied: “Butcher, Poacher, and Todd, Siorradh, Croot and Fox.”