Sherlock Holmes Radio The Blarney Stone Basil Rathbone, Nigel Bruce, Conway

[knocking]

Come, come, come.

Ah, there you are, Mr. Bartell.

Good evening, Doctor.

Say, where are the puppies this evening?

Mr. Bartell, don't you think it's about time you began to refer to them as the dogs? They're almost a year old, you know.

[laughs] I stand corrected.

Where are the dogs this evening?

Well, they had another furious battle with a dead seal on the beach today.

My housekeeper, Mrs.

West, is giving them a much-needed bath.

[laughs] They certainly have an aversion to seals, don't they? Well, Doctor, are you all ready with tonight's new Sherlock Holmes adventure?

Yes, my boy, and as yesterday was St. Patrick's Day, I decided to tell you a story that took place in Ireland, a, a few years before the turn of the century.

I imagine that you've heard of kissing the Blarney Stone, haven't you?

Oh, yes, Doctor, though I've never understood exactly what it meant.

Well, let me explain it to you, because the ceremony plays a, a very important part in the story tonight.

Blarney Castle is an imposing 15th century ruin a few miles outside the town of Cork.

The castle is many stories high, and in the foremost tower, the famous Blarney Stone is, is situated.

W- what's supposed to be the point in kissing it, Doctor?

The stone is considered a powerful talisman, and the legend runs that whoever kisses it is endowed with eloquence for life.

[laughs] Say, Doctor, if I ever get over to Ireland, I'll certainly kiss that stone.

But you're such a storyteller yourself, Doctor, I, I bet you've kissed it, huh?

No, Mr. Bartell.

I'm afraid-

[laughs]

...

I never had quite enough courage.

Courage? Ooh.

Well-

Why does it need courage, Doctor?

Well, because the Blarney Stone is, is set in a most inaccessible position on the outside wall.

To kiss it, it is customary to lower the candidate for eloquence over the rampart headfirst, with a friend hanging onto his heels.

From the top of a castle? [whistles] That does sound dangerous, Doctor.

It was, my boy, so much so that in recent years, a great row of iron spikes was put round the parapet to prevent an accident, though of course, at the time tonight's story took place, there was no such guard.

And I have a feeling that an accident did take place, Doctor.

Now, now, now, now, now, now, Mr. Bartell, let me tell you the story from the beginning.

Sherlock Holmes and I were staying in the city of Cork, where the great man had just solved a singular affair which the local press had referred to as the Leprechaun Murders.

A few days before our departure for England, we paid a visit to Blarney Castle.

I must confess that I had a certain desire to test the miraculous powers attributed to the Blarney Stone.

I very soon changed my mind, however, as Holmes and I stood there, high on the turrets of Blarney Castle, and watched a terrified initiate being hauled up by his ankles and yelling at the top of his voice.