"He's like Seán na Scuab, he doesn't know himself" is a common saying at each side of the city of Limerick, and is said of a person who, having got an uprise in the world, no longer wants to have anything to do with his old companions.

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"He's like Seán na scuab, he doesn't know himself" is a common saying at each side of the city of Limerick, and is said of a person who, having got an uprise in the world, no longer wants to have anything to do with his old companions. It is sometimes said to a person weaving a new suit or such like, or living in a new house or district also, but in this case is a sort of jocose compliment. The same old Thomondgate man, who gave me the above story of St. Munchin, gave me this story as an explanation of the saying.

Once, in Limerick city, there arose a deadlock, in the election of a mayor - the voting was equal for each of the two candidates put forward. Again and again the city people tried to adjust matters without success. There were arguments

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and bitterness and a great of waste of time and public-money, and people got very tired of the matter. At last they agreed that on a certain morning a number of town counsellors would cross Thomond Bridge at a certain time, and offer the mayorality to the first man they should meet there. At this time there lived on a hill known as Woodcock Hill, a few miles from the city on the Clare side, a man and his mother. Seán, for that was the man's name, made a living for both by cutting and making into brushes the tops of heather, and selling these in the city near by. These heather "brooms" are still used in districts where heather grows plentifully, and good clean brushes they make. Well this morning as luck should have it, Seán was making across Thomond Bridge when he met the town counsellors. They asked him would he be mayor of Limerick, and Seán, when he found they really meant  it and were not joking him, accepted joyfully. They carried him off to the town hall, and invested him with chain and other emblems of office. He spent his day enjoying his new office, and it was late in the night

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when he started for home. On the Bridge his mother, who had been troubled when Seán had not come home at his usual time, met him, but Seán haughtily passed by this poor old woman.

"Sean, a mhaoineach, don't you know your mother" she called after him. "Mother" said Seán, "I'm the Mayor of Limerick now. I don't know myself."