Back in Cork for the first time in a while on Thursday, I heard again the distinctive call of the Evening Echo seller. “Echo-Ech-ooo!” it rang out onomatopoeically along Oliver Plunkett Street. But this time there was another part to it I didn’t remember hearing before.
Had the species mutated since my last visit? Although I couldn’t quite make out what the added three-syllable noise signified, it sounded something like “Tally-ho” or “Tally-boy”, attached to every second or third Echo, eg: “Echo-Ech-ooo! Tally-boy! Ech-ooo!”
After listening hard for a minute, I was still no wiser. So, feeling like a cross between an American tourist and David Attenborough, I approached the man.
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