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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Irish Fairy Tales, Edited by W. B. (William
+Butler) Yeats, Illustrated by Jack B. Yeats
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Irish Fairy Tales
+
+
+Editor: W. B. (William Butler) Yeats
+
+Release Date: March 25, 2010  [eBook #31763]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IRISH FAIRY TALES***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Sankar Viswanathan, David Edwards, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from
+page images generously made available by Internet Archive
+(http://www.archive.org)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
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+      See 31763-h.htm or 31763-h.zip:
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+      or
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/31763/31763-h.zip)
+
+
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive. See
+      http://www.archive.org/details/fairytalesirish00yeatrich
+
+
+
+
+
+IRISH FAIRY TALES
+
+Edited
+
+With an Introduction
+
+by
+
+W. B. YEATS
+
+Author of 'The Wanderings of Oisin,' Etc.
+
+Illustrated by Jack B. Yeats
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "PLAYING AWAY ON THE PIPES AS MERRILY AS IF NOTHING HAD
+HAPPENED." (_Page_ 48.)]
+
+
+
+London
+T. Fisher Unwin
+1892
+
+
+
+
+_WHERE MY BOOKS GO._
+
+    _All the words that I gather,
+      And all the words that I write,
+    Must spread out their wings untiring,
+      And never rest in their flight,
+    Till they come where your sad, sad heart is,
+      And sing to you in the night,
+    Beyond where the waters are moving,
+      Storm darkened or starry bright._
+
+_W. B. YEATS._
+
+LONDON, _January 1892_.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+                                                            PAGE
+
+   INTRODUCTION                                               1
+
+   LAND AND WATER FAIRIES
+
+   THE FAIRIES' DANCING-PLACE                                13
+
+   THE RIVAL KEMPERS                                         17
+
+   THE YOUNG PIPER                                           32
+
+   A FAIRY ENCHANTMENT                                       49
+
+   TEIGUE OF THE LEE                                         53
+
+   THE FAIRY GREYHOUND                                       69
+
+   THE LADY OF GOLLERUS                                      77
+
+
+   EVIL SPIRITS
+
+   THE DEVIL'S MILL                                          95
+
+   FERGUS O'MARA AND THE AIR-DEMONS                         112
+
+   THE MAN WHO NEVER KNEW FEAR                              123
+
+
+   CATS
+
+   SEANCHAN THE BARD AND THE KING OF THE CATS               141
+
+   OWNEY AND OWNEY-NA-PEAK                                  151
+
+
+   KINGS AND WARRIORS
+
+   THE KNIGHTING OF CUCULAIN                                185
+
+   THE LITTLE WEAVER OF DULEEK GATE                         195
+
+
+   APPENDIX
+
+   CLASSIFICATION OF IRISH FAIRIES                          223
+
+   AUTHORITIES ON IRISH FOLKLORE                            234
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+AN IRISH STORY-TELLER
+
+
+I am often doubted when I say that the Irish peasantry still believe
+in fairies. People think I am merely trying to bring back a little of
+the old dead beautiful world of romance into this century of great
+engines and spinning-jinnies. Surely the hum of wheels and clatter of
+printing presses, to let alone the lecturers with their black coats
+and tumblers of water, have driven away the goblin kingdom and made
+silent the feet of the little dancers.
+
+Old Biddy Hart at any rate does not think so. Our bran-new opinions
+have never been heard of under her brown-thatched roof tufted with
+yellow stone-crop. It is not so long since I sat by the turf fire
+eating her griddle cake in her cottage on the slope of Benbulben and
+asking after her friends, the fairies, who inhabit the green
+thorn-covered hill up there behind her house. How firmly she believed
+in them! How greatly she feared offending them! For a long time she
+would give me no answer but 'I always mind my own affairs and they
+always mind theirs.' A little talk about my great-grandfather who
+lived all his life in the valley below, and a few words to remind her
+how I myself was often under her roof when but seven or eight years
+old loosened her tongue, however. It would be less dangerous at any
+rate to talk to me of the fairies than it would be to tell some
+'Towrow' of them, as she contemptuously called English tourists, for I
+had lived under the shadow of their own hillsides. She did not
+forget, however, to remind me to say after we had finished, 'God bless
+them, Thursday' (that being the day), and so ward off their
+displeasure, in case they were angry at our notice, for they love to
+live and dance unknown of men.
+
+Once started, she talked on freely enough, her face glowing in the
+firelight as she bent over the griddle or stirred the turf, and told
+how such a one was stolen away from near Coloney village and made to
+live seven years among 'the gentry,' as she calls the fairies for
+politeness' sake, and how when she came home she had no toes, for she
+had danced them off; and how such another was taken from the
+neighbouring village of Grange and compelled to nurse the child of the
+queen of the fairies a few months before I came. Her news about the
+creatures is always quite matter-of-fact and detailed, just as if she
+dealt with any common occurrence: the late fair, or the dance at
+Rosses last year, when a bottle of whisky was given to the best man,
+and a cake tied up in ribbons to the best woman dancer. They are, to
+her, people not so different from herself, only grander and finer in
+every way. They have the most beautiful parlours and drawing-rooms,
+she would tell you, as an old man told me once. She has endowed them
+with all she knows of splendour, although that is not such a great
+deal, for her imagination is easily pleased. What does not seem to us
+so very wonderful is wonderful to her, there, where all is so homely
+under her wood rafters and her thatched ceiling covered with
+whitewashed canvas. We have pictures and books to help us imagine a
+splendid fairy world of gold and silver, of crowns and marvellous
+draperies; but she has only that little picture of St. Patrick over
+the fireplace, the bright-coloured crockery on the dresser, and the
+sheet of ballads stuffed by her young daughter behind the stone dog
+on the mantelpiece. Is it strange, then, if her fairies have not the
+fantastic glories of the fairies you and I are wont to see in
+picture-books and read of in stories? She will tell you of peasants
+who met the fairy cavalcade and thought it but a troop of peasants
+like themselves until it vanished into shadow and night, and of great
+fairy palaces that were mistaken, until they melted away, for the
+country seats of rich gentlemen.
+
+Her views of heaven itself have the same homeliness, and she would be
+quite as naive about its personages if the chance offered as was the
+pious Clondalkin laundress who told a friend of mine that she had seen
+a vision of St. Joseph, and that he had 'a lovely shining hat upon him
+and a shirt-buzzom that was never starched in this world.' She would
+have mixed some quaint poetry with it, however; for there is a world
+of difference between Benbulben and Dublinised Clondalkin.
+
+Heaven and Fairyland--to these has Biddy Hart given all she dreams of
+magnificence, and to them her soul goes out--to the one in love and
+hope, to the other in love and fear--day after day and season after
+season; saints and angels, fairies and witches, haunted thorn-trees
+and holy wells, are to her what books, and plays, and pictures are to
+you and me. Indeed they are far more; for too many among us grow
+prosaic and commonplace, but she keeps ever a heart full of music. 'I
+stand here in the doorway,' she said once to me on a fine day, 'and
+look at the mountain and think of the goodness of God'; and when she
+talks of the fairies I have noticed a touch of tenderness in her
+voice. She loves them because they are always young, always making
+festival, always far off from the old age that is coming upon her and
+filling her bones with aches, and because, too, they are so like
+little children.
+
+Do you think the Irish peasant would be so full of poetry if he had
+not his fairies? Do you think the peasant girls of Donegal, when they
+are going to service inland, would kneel down as they do and kiss the
+sea with their lips if both sea and land were not made lovable to them
+by beautiful legends and wild sad stories? Do you think the old men
+would take life so cheerily and mutter their proverb, 'The lake is not
+burdened by its swan, the steed by its bridle, or a man by the soul
+that is in him,' if the multitude of spirits were not near them?
+
+W. B. YEATS.
+
+CLONDALKIN,
+
+_July 1891_.
+
+
+
+
+NOTE
+
+
+I have to thank Lady Wilde for leave to give 'Seanchan the Bard' from
+her _Ancient Legends of Ireland_ (Ward and Downey), the most poetical
+and ample collection of Irish folklore yet published; Mr. Standish
+O'Grady for leave to give 'The Knighting of Cuculain' from that prose
+epic he has curiously named _History of Ireland, Heroic Period_;
+Professor Joyce for his 'Fergus O'Mara and the Air Demons'; and Mr.
+Douglas Hyde for his unpublished story, 'The Man who never knew
+Fear.'
+
+I have included no story that has already appeared in my _Fairy and
+Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry_ (Camelot Series).
+
+The two volumes make, I believe, a fairly representative collection of
+Irish folk tales.
+
+
+
+
+LAND AND WATER FAIRIES
+
+
+
+
+THE FAIRIES' DANCING-PLACE
+
+BY WILLIAM CARLETON
+
+
+Lanty M'Clusky had married a wife, and, of course, it was necessary to
+have a house in which to keep her. Now, Lanty had taken a bit of a
+farm, about six acres; but as there was no house on it, he resolved to
+build one; and that it might be as comfortable as possible, he
+selected for the site of it one of those beautiful green circles that
+are supposed to be the play-ground of the fairies. Lanty was warned
+against this; but as he was a headstrong man, and not much given to
+fear, he said he would not change such a pleasant situation for his
+house to oblige all the fairies in Europe. He accordingly proceeded
+with the building, which he finished off very neatly; and, as it is
+usual on these occasions to give one's neighbours and friends a
+house-warming, so, in compliance with this good and pleasant old
+custom, Lanty having brought home the wife in the course of the day,
+got a fiddler and a lot of whisky, and gave those who had come to see
+him a dance in the evening. This was all very well, and the fun and
+hilarity were proceeding briskly, when a noise was heard after night
+had set in, like a crushing and straining of ribs and rafters on the
+top of the house. The folks assembled all listened, and, without
+doubt, there was nothing heard but crushing, and heaving, and pushing,
+and groaning, and panting, as if a thousand little men were engaged
+in pulling down the roof.
+
+'Come,' said a voice which spoke in a tone of command, 'work hard: you
+know we must have Lanty's house down before midnight.'
+
+This was an unwelcome piece of intelligence to Lanty, who, finding
+that his enemies were such as he could not cope with, walked out, and
+addressed them as follows:
+
+'Gintlemen, I humbly ax yer pardon for buildin' on any place belongin'
+to you; but if you'll have the civilitude to let me alone this night,
+I'll begin to pull down and remove the house to-morrow morning.'
+
+This was followed by a noise like the clapping of a thousand tiny
+little hands, and a shout of 'Bravo, Lanty! build half-way between the
+two White-thorns above the boreen'; and after another hearty little
+shout of exultation, there was a brisk rushing noise, and they were
+heard no more.
+
+The story, however, does not end here; for Lanty, when digging the
+foundation of his new house, found the full of a _kam_[1] of gold: so
+that in leaving to the fairies their play-ground, he became a richer
+man than ever he otherwise would have been, had he never come in
+contact with them at all.
+
+[Footnote 1: _Kam_--a metal vessel in which the peasantry dip
+rushlights.]
+
+
+
+
+THE RIVAL KEMPERS
+
+BY WILLIAM CARLETON
+
+
+In the north of Ireland there are spinning meetings of unmarried
+females frequently held at the houses of farmers, called _kemps_.
+Every young woman who has got the reputation of being a quick and
+expert spinner attends where the kemp is to be held, at an hour
+usually before daylight, and on these occasions she is accompanied by
+her sweetheart or some male relative, who carries her wheel, and
+conducts her safely across the fields or along the road, as the case
+may be. A kemp is, indeed, an animated and joyous scene, and one,
+besides, which is calculated to promote industry and decent pride.
+Scarcely anything can be more cheering and agreeable than to hear at a
+distance, breaking the silence of morning, the light-hearted voices of
+many girls either in mirth or song, the humming sound of the busy
+wheels--jarred upon a little, it is true, by the stridulous noise and
+checkings of the reels, and the voices of the reelers, as they call
+aloud the checks, together with the name of the girl and the quantity
+she has spun up to that period; for the contest is generally commenced
+two or three hours before daybreak. This mirthful spirit is also
+sustained by the prospect of a dance--with which, by the way, every
+kemp closes; and when the fair victor is declared, she is to be looked
+upon as the queen of the meeting, and treated with the necessary
+respect.
+
+But to our tale. Every one knew Shaun Buie M'Gaveran to be the
+cleanest, best-conducted boy, and the most industrious too, in the
+whole parish of Faugh-a-ballagh. Hard was it to find a young fellow
+who could handle a flail, spade, or reaping-hook in better style, or
+who could go through his day's work in a more creditable or
+workmanlike manner. In addition to this, he was a fine, well-built,
+handsome young man as you could meet in a fair; and so, sign was on
+it, maybe the pretty girls weren't likely to pull each other's caps
+about him. Shaun, however, was as prudent as he was good-looking; and
+although he wanted a wife, yet the sorrow one of him but preferred
+taking a well-handed, smart girl, who was known to be well-behaved and
+industrious, like himself. Here, however, was where the puzzle lay on
+him; for instead of one girl of that kind, there were in the
+neighbourhood no less than a dozen of them--all equally fit and
+willing to become his wife, and all equally good-looking. There were
+two, however, whom he thought a trifle above the rest; but so nicely
+balanced were Biddy Corrigan and Sally Gorman, that for the life of
+him he could not make up his mind to decide between them. Each of them
+had won her kemp; and it was currently said by them who ought to know,
+that neither of them could over-match the other. No two girls in the
+parish were better respected, or deserved to be so; and the
+consequence was, they had every one's good word and good wish. Now it
+so happened that Shaun had been pulling a cord with each; and as he
+knew not how to decide between, he thought he would allow them to do
+that themselves if they could. He accordingly gave out to the
+neighbours that he would hold a kemp on that day week, and he told
+Biddy and Sally especially that he had made up his mind to marry
+whichever of them won the kemp, for he knew right well, as did all
+the parish, that one of them must. The girls agreed to this very
+good-humouredly, Biddy telling Sally that she (Sally) would surely win
+it; and Sally, not to be outdone in civility, telling the same thing
+to her.
+
+Well, the week was nearly past, there being but two days till that of
+the kemp, when, about three o'clock, there walks into the house of old
+Paddy Corrigan a little woman dressed in high-heeled shoes and a short
+red cloak. There was no one in the house but Biddy at the time, who
+rose up and placed a chair near the fire, and asked the little red
+woman to sit down and rest herself. She accordingly did so, and in a
+short time a lively chat commenced between them.
+
+'So,' said the strange woman, 'there's to be a great kemp in Shaun
+Buie M'Gaveran's?'
+
+'Indeed there is that, good woman,' replied Biddy, smiling and
+blushing to back of that again, because she knew her own fate
+depended on it.
+
+'And,' continued the little woman, 'whoever wins the kemp wins a
+husband?'
+
+'Ay, so it seems.'
+
+'Well, whoever gets Shaun will be a happy woman, for he's the moral of
+a good boy.'
+
+'That's nothing but the truth, anyhow,' replied Biddy, sighing, for
+fear, you may be sure, that she herself might lose him; and indeed a
+young woman might sigh from many a worse reason. 'But,' said she,
+changing the subject, 'you appear to be tired, honest woman, an' I
+think you had better eat a bit, an' take a good drink of _buinnhe
+ramwher_ (thick milk) to help you on your journey.'
+
+'Thank you kindly, a colleen,' said the woman; 'I'll take a bit, if
+you plase, hopin', at the same time, that you won't be the poorer of
+it this day twelve months.'
+
+'Sure,' said the girl, 'you know that what we give from kindness ever
+an' always leaves a blessing behind it.'
+
+'Yes, acushla, when it _is_ given from kindness.'
+
+She accordingly helped herself to the food that Biddy placed before
+her, and appeared, after eating, to be very much refreshed.
+
+'Now,' said she, rising up, 'you're a very good girl, an' if you are
+able to find out my name before Tuesday morning, the kemp-day, I tell
+you that you'll win it, and gain the husband.'
+
+'Why,' said Biddy, 'I never saw you before. I don't know who you are,
+nor where you live; how then can I ever find out your name?'
+
+'You never saw me before, sure enough,' said the old woman, 'an' I
+tell you that you never will see me again but once; an' yet if you
+have not my name for me at the close of the kemp, you'll lose all, an'
+that will leave you a sore heart, for well I know you love Shaun
+Buie.'
+
+So saying, she went away, and left poor Biddy quite cast down at what
+she had said, for, to tell the truth, she loved Shaun very much, and
+had no hopes of being able to find out the name of the little woman,
+on which, it appeared, so much to her depended.
+
+It was very near the same hour of the same day that Sally Gorman was
+sitting alone in her father's house, thinking of the kemp, when who
+should walk in to her but our friend the little red woman.
+
+'God save you, honest woman,' said Sally, 'this is a fine day that's
+in it, the Lord be praised!'
+
+'It is,' said the woman, 'as fine a day as one could wish for: indeed
+it is.'
+
+'Have you no news on your travels?' asked Sally.
+
+'The only news in the neighbourhood,' replied the other, 'is this
+great kemp that's to take place at Shaun Buie M'Gaveran's. They say
+you're either to win him or lose him then,' she added, looking
+closely at Sally as she spoke.
+
+'I'm not very much afraid of that,' said Sally, with confidence; 'but
+even if I do lose him, I may get as good.'
+
+'It's not easy gettin' as good,' rejoined the old woman, 'an' you
+ought to be very glad to win him, if you can.'
+
+'Let me alone for that,' said Sally. 'Biddy's a good girl, I allow;
+but as for spinnin', she never saw the day she could leave me behind
+her. Won't you sit an' rest you?' she added; 'maybe you're tired.'
+
+'It's time for you to think of it,' _thought_ the woman, but she spoke
+nothing: 'but,' she added to herself on reflection, 'it's better late
+than never--I'll sit awhile, till I see a little closer what she's
+made of.'
+
+She accordingly sat down and chatted upon several subjects, such as
+young women like to talk about, for about half an hour; after which
+she arose, and taking her little staff in hand, she bade Sally
+good-bye, and went her way. After passing a little from the house she
+looked back, and could not help speaking to herself as follows:
+
+    'She's smooth and smart,
+    But she wants the heart;
+    She's tight and neat,
+    But she gave no meat.'
+
+Poor Biddy now made all possible inquiries about the old woman, but to
+no purpose. Not a soul she spoke to about her had ever seen or heard
+of such a woman. She felt very dispirited, and began to lose heart,
+for there is no doubt that if she missed Shaun it would have cost her
+many a sorrowful day. She knew she would never get his equal, or at
+least any one that she loved so well. At last the kemp day came, and
+with it all the pretty girls of the neighbourhood to Shaun Buie's.
+Among the rest, the two that were to decide their right to him were
+doubtless the handsomest pair by far, and every one admired them. To
+be sure, it was a blythe and merry place, and many a light laugh and
+sweet song rang out from pretty lips that day. Biddy and Sally, as
+every one expected, were far ahead of the rest, but so even in their
+spinning that the reelers could not for the life of them declare which
+was the better. It was neck-and-neck and head-and-head between the
+pretty creatures, and all who were at the kemp felt themselves wound
+up to the highest pitch of interest and curiosity to know which of
+them would be successful.
+
+The day was now more than half gone, and no difference was between
+them, when, to the surprise and sorrow of every one present, Biddy
+Corrigan's _heck_ broke in two, and so to all appearance ended the
+contest in favour of her rival; and what added to her mortification,
+she was as ignorant of the red little woman's name as ever. What was
+to be done? All that could be done was done. Her brother, a boy of
+about fourteen years of age, happened to be present when the accident
+took place, having been sent by his father and mother to bring them
+word how the match went on between the rival spinsters. Johnny
+Corrigan was accordingly despatched with all speed to Donnel
+M'Cusker's, the wheelwright, in order to get the heck mended, that
+being Biddy's last but hopeless chance. Johnny's anxiety that his
+sister should win was of course very great, and in order to lose as
+little time as possible he struck across the country, passing through,
+or rather close by, Kilrudden forth, a place celebrated as a resort of
+the fairies. What was his astonishment, however, as he passed a
+White-thorn tree, to hear a female voice singing, in accompaniment to
+the sound of a spinning-wheel, the following words:
+
+    'There's a girl in this town doesn't know my name;
+    But my name's Even Trot--Even Trot.'
+
+'There's a girl in this town,' said the lad, 'who's in great distress,
+for she has broken her heck, and lost a husband. I'm now goin' to
+Donnel M'Cusker's to get it mended.'
+
+'What's her name?' said the little red woman.
+
+'Biddy Corrigan.'
+
+The little woman immediately whipped out the heck from her own wheel,
+and giving it to the boy, desired him to take it to his sister, and
+never mind Donnel M'Cusker.
+
+'You have little time to lose,' she added, 'so go back and give her
+this; but don't tell her how you got it, nor, above all things, that
+it was Even Trot that gave it to you.'
+
+The lad returned, and after giving the heck to his sister, as a matter
+of course told her that it was a little red woman called Even Trot
+that sent it to her, a circumstance which made tears of delight start
+to Biddy's eyes, for she knew now that Even Trot was the name of the
+old woman, and having known that, she felt that something good would
+happen to her. She now resumed her spinning, and never did human
+fingers let down the thread so rapidly. The whole kemp were amazed at
+the quantity which from time to time filled her pirn. The hearts of
+her friends began to rise, and those of Sally's party to sink, as hour
+after hour she was fast approaching her rival, who now spun if
+possible with double speed on finding Biddy coming up with her. At
+length they were again even, and just at that moment in came her
+friend the little red woman, and asked aloud, 'Is there any one in
+this kemp that knows my name?' This question she asked three times
+before Biddy could pluck up courage to answer her. She at last said,
+
+    'There's a girl in this town does know your name--
+    Your name is Even Trot--Even Trot.'
+
+'Ay,' said the old woman, 'and so it is; and let that name be your
+guide and your husband's through life. Go steadily along, but let your
+step be even; stop little; keep always advancing; and you'll never
+have cause to rue the day that you first saw Even Trot.'
+
+We need scarcely add that Biddy won the kemp and the husband, and that
+she and Shaun lived long and happily together; and I have only now to
+wish, kind reader, that you and I may live longer and more happily
+still.
+
+
+
+
+THE YOUNG PIPER
+
+BY CROFTON CROKER
+
+
+There lived not long since, on the borders of the county Tipperary, a
+decent honest couple, whose names were Mick Flannigan and Judy
+Muldoon. These poor people were blessed, as the saying is, with four
+children, all boys: three of them were as fine, stout, healthy,
+good-looking children as ever the sun shone upon; and it was enough to
+make any Irishman proud of the breed of his countrymen to see them
+about one o'clock on a fine summer's day standing at their father's
+cabin door, with their beautiful flaxen hair hanging in curls about
+their head, and their cheeks like two rosy apples, and a big laughing
+potato smoking in their hand. A proud man was Mick of these fine
+children, and a proud woman, too, was Judy; and reason enough they had
+to be so. But it was far otherwise with the remaining one, which was
+the third eldest: he was the most miserable, ugly, ill-conditioned
+brat that ever God put life into; he was so ill-thriven that he never
+was able to stand alone, or to leave his cradle; he had long, shaggy,
+matted, curled hair, as black as the soot; his face was of a
+greenish-yellow colour; his eyes were like two burning coals, and were
+for ever moving in his head, as if they had the perpetual motion.
+Before he was a twelvemonth old he had a mouth full of great teeth;
+his hands were like kites' claws, and his legs were no thicker than
+the handle of a whip, and about as straight as a reaping-hook: to
+make the matter worse, he had the appetite of a cormorant, and the
+whinge, and the yelp, and the screech, and the yowl, was never out of
+his mouth.
+
+The neighbours all suspected that he was something not right,
+particularly as it was observed, when people, as they do in the
+country, got about the fire, and began to talk of religion and good
+things, the brat, as he lay in the cradle, which his mother generally
+put near the fireplace that he might be snug, used to sit up, as they
+were in the middle of their talk, and begin to bellow as if the devil
+was in him in right earnest; this, as I said, led the neighbours to
+think that all was not right, and there was a general consultation
+held one day about what would be best to do with him. Some advised to
+put him out on the shovel, but Judy's pride was up at that. A pretty
+thing indeed, that a child of hers should be put on a shovel and
+flung out on the dunghill just like a dead kitten or a poisoned rat;
+no, no, she would not hear to that at all. One old woman, who was
+considered very skilful and knowing in fairy matters, strongly
+recommended her to put the tongs in the fire, and heat them red hot,
+and to take his nose in them, and that would beyond all manner of
+doubt make him tell what he was and where he came from (for the
+general suspicion was, that he had been changed by the good people);
+but Judy was too softhearted, and too fond of the imp, so she would
+not give in to this plan, though everybody said she was wrong, and
+maybe she was, but it's hard to blame a mother. Well, some advised one
+thing, and some another; at last one spoke of sending for the priest,
+who was a very holy and a very learned man, to see it. To this Judy of
+course had no objection; but one thing or other always prevented her
+doing so, and the upshot of the business was that the priest never
+saw him.
+
+Things went on in the old way for some time longer. The brat continued
+yelping and yowling, and eating more than his three brothers put
+together, and playing all sorts of unlucky tricks, for he was mighty
+mischievously inclined, till it happened one day that Tim Carrol, the
+blind piper, going his rounds, called in and sat down by the fire to
+have a bit of chat with the woman of the house. So after some time
+Tim, who was no churl of his music, yoked on the pipes, and began to
+bellows away in high style; when the instant he began, the young
+fellow, who had been lying as still as a mouse in his cradle, sat up,
+began to grin and twist his ugly face, to swing about his long tawny
+arms, and to kick out his crooked legs, and to show signs of great
+glee at the music. At last nothing would serve him but he should get
+the pipes into his own hands, and to humour him his mother asked Tim
+to lend them to the child for a minute. Tim, who was kind to children,
+readily consented; and as Tim had not his sight, Judy herself brought
+them to the cradle, and went to put them on him; but she had no
+occasion, for the youth seemed quite up to the business. He buckled on
+the pipes, set the bellows under one arm, and the bag under the other,
+worked them both as knowingly as if he had been twenty years at the
+business, and lilted up 'Sheela na guira' in the finest style
+imaginable.
+
+All were in astonishment: the poor woman crossed herself. Tim, who, as
+I said before, was _dark_, and did not well know who was playing, was
+in great delight; and when he heard that it was a little _prechan_ not
+five years old, that had never seen a set of pipes in his life, he
+wished the mother joy of her son; offered to take him off her hands if
+she would part with him, swore he was a _born_ piper, a natural
+_genus_, and declared that in a little time more, with the help of a
+little good instruction from himself, there would not be his match in
+the whole country. The poor woman was greatly delighted to hear all
+this, particularly as what Tim said about natural _genus_ quieted some
+misgivings that were rising in her mind, lest what the neighbours said
+about his not being right might be too true; and it gratified her
+moreover to think that her dear child (for she really loved the whelp)
+would not be forced to turn out and beg, but might earn decent bread
+for himself. So when Mick came home in the evening from his work, she
+up and told him all that had happened, and all that Tim Carrol had
+said; and Mick, as was natural, was very glad to hear it, for the
+helpless condition of the poor creature was a great trouble to him. So
+next day he took the pig to the fair, and with what it brought set
+off to Clonmel, and bespoke a bran-new set of pipes, of the proper
+size for him.
+
+In about a fortnight the pipes came home, and the moment the chap in
+his cradle laid eyes on them he squealed with delight and threw up his
+pretty legs, and bumped himself in his cradle, and went on with a
+great many comical tricks; till at last, to quiet him, they gave him
+the pipes, and he immediately set to and pulled away at 'Jig Polthog,'
+to the admiration of all who heard him.
+
+The fame of his skill on the pipes soon spread far and near, for there
+was not a piper in the six next counties could come at all near him,
+in 'Old Moderagh rue,' or 'The Hare in the Corn,' or 'The Fox-hunter's
+Jig,' or 'The Rakes of Cashel,' or 'The Piper's Maggot,' or any of the
+fine Irish jigs which make people dance whether they will or no: and
+it was surprising to hear him rattle away 'The Fox-hunt'; you'd really
+think you heard the hounds giving tongue, and the terriers yelping
+always behind, and the huntsman and the whippers-in cheering or
+correcting the dogs; it was, in short, the very next thing to seeing
+the hunt itself.
+
+The best of him was, he was noways stingy of his music, and many a
+merry dance the boys and girls of the neighbourhood used to have in
+his father's cabin; and he would play up music for them, that they
+said used as it were to put quicksilver in their feet; and they all
+declared they never moved so light and so airy to any piper's playing
+that ever they danced to.
+
+But besides all his fine Irish music, he had one queer tune of his
+own, the oddest that ever was heard; for the moment he began to play
+it everything in the house seemed disposed to dance; the plates and
+porringers used to jingle on the dresser, the pots and pot-hooks used
+to rattle in the chimney, and people used even to fancy they felt the
+stools moving from under them; but, however it might be with the
+stools, it is certain that no one could keep long sitting on them, for
+both old and young always fell to capering as hard as ever they could.
+The girls complained that when he began this tune it always threw them
+out in their dancing, and that they never could handle their feet
+rightly, for they felt the floor like ice under them, and themselves
+every moment ready to come sprawling on their backs or their faces.
+The young bachelors who wished to show off their dancing and their new
+pumps, and their bright red or green and yellow garters, swore that it
+confused them so that they never could go rightly through the _heel
+and toe_ or _cover the buckle_, or any of their best steps, but felt
+themselves always all bedizzied and bewildered, and then old and young
+would go jostling and knocking together in a frightful manner; and
+when the unlucky brat had them all in this way, whirligigging about
+the floor, he'd grin and chuckle and chatter, for all the world like
+Jacko the monkey when he has played off some of his roguery.
+
+The older he grew the worse he grew, and by the time he was six years
+old there was no standing the house for him; he was always making his
+brothers burn or scald themselves, or break their shins over the pots
+and stools. One time, in harvest, he was left at home by himself, and
+when his mother came in she found the cat a-horseback on the dog, with
+her face to the tail, and her legs tied round him, and the urchin
+playing his queer tune to them; so that the dog went barking and
+jumping about, and puss was mewing for the dear life, and slapping her
+tail backwards and forwards, which, as it would hit against the dog's
+chaps, he'd snap at and bite, and then there was the philliloo.
+Another time, the farmer with whom Mick worked, a very decent,
+respectable man, happened to call in, and Judy wiped a stool with her
+apron, and invited him to sit down and rest himself after his walk. He
+was sitting with his back to the cradle, and behind him was a pan of
+blood, for Judy was making pig's puddings. The lad lay quite still in
+his nest, and watched his opportunity till he got ready a hook at the
+end of a piece of twine, which he contrived to fling so handily that
+it caught in the bob of the man's nice new wig, and soused it in the
+pan of blood. Another time his mother was coming in from milking the
+cow, with the pail on her head: the minute he saw her he lilted up his
+infernal tune, and the poor woman, letting go the pail, clapped her
+hands aside, and began to dance a jig, and tumbled the milk all a-top
+of her husband, who was bringing in some turf to boil the supper. In
+short, there would be no end to telling all his pranks, and all the
+mischievous tricks he played.
+
+Soon after, some mischances began to happen to the farmer's cattle. A
+horse took the staggers, a fine veal calf died of the black-leg, and
+some of his sheep of the red-water; the cows began to grow vicious,
+and to kick down the milk-pails, and the roof of one end of the barn
+fell in; and the farmer took it into his head that Mick Flannigan's
+unlucky child was the cause of all the mischief. So one day he called
+Mick aside, and said to him, 'Mick, you see things are not going on
+with me as they ought, and to be plain with you, Mick, I think that
+child of yours is the cause of it. I am really falling away to nothing
+with fretting, and I can hardly sleep on my bed at night for thinking
+of what may happen before the morning. So I'd be glad if you'd look
+out for work somewhere else; you're as good a man as any in the
+country, and there's no fear but you'll have your choice of work.' To
+this Mick replied, 'that he was sorry for his losses, and still
+sorrier that he or his should be thought to be the cause of them; that
+for his own part he was not quite easy in his mind about that child,
+but he had him and so must keep him'; and he promised to look out for
+another place immediately.
+
+Accordingly, next Sunday at chapel Mick gave out that he was about
+leaving the work at John Riordan's, and immediately a farmer who lived
+a couple of miles off, and who wanted a ploughman (the last one having
+just left him), came up to Mick, and offered him a house and garden,
+and work all the year round. Mick, who knew him to be a good employer,
+immediately closed with him; so it was agreed that the farmer should
+send a car[2] to take his little bit of furniture, and that he should
+remove on the following Thursday.
+
+[Footnote 2: Car, a cart.]
+
+When Thursday came, the car came according to promise, and Mick loaded
+it, and put the cradle with the child and his pipes on the top, and
+Judy sat beside it to take care of him, lest he should tumble out and
+be killed. They drove the cow before them, the dog followed, but the
+cat was of course left behind; and the other three children went along
+the road picking skeehories (haws) and blackberries, for it was a fine
+day towards the latter end of harvest.
+
+They had to cross a river, but as it ran through a bottom between two
+high banks, you did not see it till you were close on it. The young
+fellow was lying pretty quiet in the bottom of the cradle, till they
+came to the head of the bridge, when hearing the roaring of the water
+(for there was a great flood in the river, as it had rained heavily
+for the last two or three days), he sat up in his cradle and looked
+about him; and the instant he got a sight of the water, and found they
+were going to take him across it, oh, how he did bellow and how he did
+squeal! no rat caught in a snap-trap ever sang out equal to him.
+'Whist! A lanna,' said Judy, 'there's no fear of you; sure it's only
+over the stone bridge we're going.'--'Bad luck to you, you old rip!'
+cried he, 'what a pretty trick you've played me to bring me here!' and
+still went on yelling, and the farther they got on the bridge the
+louder he yelled; till at last Mick could hold out no longer, so
+giving him a great skelp of the whip he had in his hand, 'Devil choke
+you, you brat!' said he, 'will you never stop bawling? a body can't
+hear their ears for you.' The moment he felt the thong of the whip he
+leaped up in the cradle, clapped the pipes under his arm, gave a most
+wicked grin at Mick, and jumped clean over the battlements of the
+bridge down into the water. 'Oh, my child, my child!' shouted Judy,
+'he's gone for ever from me.' Mick and the rest of the children ran to
+the other side of the bridge, and looking over, they saw him coming
+out from under the arch of the bridge, sitting cross-legged on the top
+of a white-headed wave, and playing away on the pipes as merrily as if
+nothing had happened. The river was running very rapidly, so he was
+whirled away at a great rate; but he played as fast, ay, and faster,
+than the river ran; and though they set off as hard as they could
+along the bank, yet, as the river made a sudden turn round the hill,
+about a hundred yards below the bridge, by the time they got there he
+was out of sight, and no one ever laid eyes on him more; but the
+general opinion was that he went home with the pipes to his own
+relations, the good people, to make music for them.
+
+
+
+
+A FAIRY ENCHANTMENT
+
+_Story-teller_--MICHAEL HART
+
+_Recorder_--W. B. YEATS
+
+
+In the times when we used to travel by canal I was coming down from
+Dublin. When we came to Mullingar the canal ended, and I began to
+walk, and stiff and fatigued I was after the slowness. I had some
+friends with me, and now and then we walked, now and then we rode in a
+cart. So on till we saw some girls milking a cow, and stopped to joke
+with them. After a while we asked them for a drink of milk. 'We have
+nothing to put it in here,' they said, 'but come to the house with
+us.' We went home with them and sat round the fire talking. After a
+while the others went, and left me, loath to stir from the good fire.
+I asked the girls for something to eat. There was a pot on the fire,
+and they took the meat out and put it on a plate and told me to eat
+only the meat that came from the head. When I had eaten, the girls
+went out and I did not see them again.
+
+It grew darker and darker, and there I still sat, loath as ever to
+leave the good fire; and after a while two men came in, carrying
+between them a corpse. When I saw them I hid behind the door. Says one
+to the other, 'Who'll turn the spit?' Says the other, 'Michael Hart,
+come out of that and turn the meat!' I came out in a tremble and began
+turning the spit. 'Michael Hart,' says the one who spoke first, 'if
+you let it burn we will have to put you on the spit instead,' and on
+that they went out. I sat there trembling and turning the corpse until
+midnight. The men came again, and the one said it was burnt, and the
+other said it was done right, but having fallen out over it, they both
+said they would do me no harm that time; and sitting by the fire one
+of them cried out, 'Michael Hart, can you tell a story?' 'Never a
+one,' said I. On that he caught me by the shoulders and put me out
+like a shot.
+
+It was a wild, blowing night; never in all my born days did I see such
+a night--the darkest night that ever came out of the heavens. I did
+not know where I was for the life of me. So when one of the men came
+after me and touched me on the shoulder with a 'Michael Hart, can you
+tell a story now?'--'I can,' says I. In he brought me, and, putting me
+by the fire, says 'Begin.' 'I have no story but the one,' says I,
+'that I was sitting here, and that you two men brought in a corpse
+and put it on the spit and set me turning it.' 'That will do,' says
+he; 'you may go in there and lie down on the bed.' And in I went,
+nothing loath, and in the morning where was I but in the middle of a
+green field.
+
+
+
+
+TEIGUE OF THE LEE
+
+BY CROFTON CROKER
+
+
+I can't stop in the house--I won't stop in it for all the money that
+is buried in the old castle of Carrigrohan. If ever there was such a
+thing in the world!--to be abused to my face night and day, and nobody
+to the fore doing it! and then, if I'm angry, to be laughed at with a
+great roaring ho, ho, ho! I won't stay in the house after to-night, if
+there was not another place in the country to put my head under.' This
+angry soliloquy was pronounced in the hall of the old manor-house of
+Carrigrohan by John Sheehan. John was a new servant; he had been only
+three days in the house, which had the character of being haunted, and
+in that short space of time he had been abused and laughed at by a
+voice which sounded as if a man spoke with his head in a cask; nor
+could he discover who was the speaker, or from whence the voice came.
+'I'll not stop here,' said John; 'and that ends the matter.'
+
+'Ho, ho, ho! be quiet, John Sheehan, or else worse will happen to
+you.'
+
+John instantly ran to the hall window, as the words were evidently
+spoken by a person immediately outside, but no one was visible. He had
+scarcely placed his face at the pane of glass when he heard another
+loud 'Ho, ho, ho!' as if behind him in the hall; as quick as lightning
+he turned his head, but no living thing was to be seen.
+
+'Ho, ho, ho, John!' shouted a voice that appeared to come from the
+lawn before the house: 'do you think you'll see Teigue?--oh, never! as
+long as you live! so leave alone looking after him, and mind your
+business; there's plenty of company to dinner from Cork to be here
+to-day, and 'tis time you had the cloth laid.'
+
+'Lord bless us! there's more of it!--I'll never stay another day
+here,' repeated John.
+
+'Hold your tongue, and stay where you are quietly, and play no tricks
+on Mr. Pratt, as you did on Mr. Jervois about the spoons.'
+
+John Sheehan was confounded by this address from his invisible
+persecutor, but nevertheless he mustered courage enough to say, 'Who
+are you? come here, and let me see you, if you are a man'; but he
+received in reply only a laugh of unearthly derision, which was
+followed by a 'Good-bye--I'll watch you at dinner, John!'
+
+'Lord between us and harm! this beats all! I'll watch you at dinner!
+maybe you will! 'tis the broad daylight, so 'tis no ghost; but this is
+a terrible place, and this is the last day I'll stay in it. How does
+he know about the spoons? if he tells it I'm a ruined man! there was
+no living soul could tell it to him but Tim Barrett, and he's far
+enough off in the wilds of Botany Bay now, so how could he know it? I
+can't tell for the world! But what's that I see there at the corner of
+the wall! 'tis not a man! oh, what a fool I am! 'tis only the old
+stump of a tree! But this is a shocking place--I'll never stop in it,
+for I'll leave the house to-morrow; the very look of it is enough to
+frighten any one.'
+
+The mansion had certainly an air of desolation; it was situated in a
+lawn, which had nothing to break its uniform level save a few tufts of
+narcissuses and a couple of old trees coeval with the building. The
+house stood at a short distance from the road, it was upwards of a
+century old, and Time was doing his work upon it; its walls were
+weather-stained in all colours, its roof showed various white patches,
+it had no look of comfort; all was dim and dingy without, and within
+there was an air of gloom, of departed and departing greatness, which
+harmonised well with the exterior. It required all the exuberance of
+youth and of gaiety to remove the impression, almost amounting to awe,
+with which you trod the huge square hall, paced along the gallery
+which surrounded the hall, or explored the long rambling passages
+below stairs. The ballroom, as the large drawing-room was called, and
+several other apartments, were in a state of decay; the walls were
+stained with damp, and I remember well the sensation of awe which I
+felt creeping over me when, boy as I was, and full of boyish life and
+wild and ardent spirits, I descended to the vaults; all without and
+within me became chilled beneath their dampness and gloom--their
+extent, too, terrified me; nor could the merriment of my two
+schoolfellows, whose father, a respectable clergyman, rented the
+dwelling for a time, dispel the feelings of a romantic imagination
+until I once again ascended to the upper regions.
+
+John had pretty well recovered himself as the dinner-hour approached,
+and several guests arrived. They were all seated at the table, and had
+begun to enjoy the excellent repast, when a voice was heard in the
+lawn.
+
+'Ho, ho, ho! Mr. Pratt, won't you give poor Teigue some dinner? ho,
+ho! a fine company you have there, and plenty of everything that's
+good; sure you won't forget poor Teigue?'
+
+John dropped the glass he had in his hand.
+
+'Who is that?' said Mr. Pratt's brother, an officer of the artillery.
+
+'That is Teigue,' said Mr. Pratt, laughing, 'whom you must often have
+heard me mention.'
+
+'And pray, Mr. Pratt,' inquired another gentleman, 'who _is_ Teigue?'
+
+'That,' he replied, 'is more than I can tell. No one has ever been
+able to catch even a glimpse of him. I have been on the watch for a
+whole evening with three of my sons, yet, although his voice sometimes
+sounded almost in my ear, I could not see him. I fancied, indeed, that
+I saw a man in a white frieze jacket pass into the door from the
+garden to the lawn, but it could be only fancy, for I found the door
+locked, while the fellow, whoever he is, was laughing at our trouble.
+He visits us occasionally, and sometimes a long interval passes
+between his visits, as in the present case; it is now nearly two years
+since we heard that hollow voice outside the window. He has never done
+any injury that we know of, and once when he broke a plate, he
+brought one back exactly like it.'
+
+'It is very extraordinary,' exclaimed several of the company.
+
+'But,' remarked a gentleman to young Mr. Pratt, 'your father said he
+broke a plate; how did he get it without your seeing him?'
+
+'When he asks for some dinner we put it outside the window and go
+away; whilst we watch he will not take it, but no sooner have we
+withdrawn than it is gone.'
+
+'How does he know that you are watching?'
+
+'That's more than I can tell, but he either knows or suspects. One day
+my brothers Robert and James with myself were in our back parlour,
+which has a window into the garden, when he came outside and said,
+"Ho, ho, ho! Master James and Robert and Henry, give poor Teigue a
+glass of whisky." James went out of the room, filled a glass with
+whisky, vinegar, and salt, and brought it to him. "Here, Teigue,"
+said he, "come for it now."--"Well, put it down, then, on the step
+outside the window." This was done, and we stood looking at it.
+"There, now, go away," he shouted. We retired, but still watched it.
+"Ho, ho! you are watching Teigue! go out of the room, now, or I won't
+take it." We went outside the door and returned, the glass was gone,
+and a moment after we heard him roaring and cursing frightfully. He
+took away the glass, but the next day it was on the stone step under
+the window, and there were crumbs of bread in the inside, as if he had
+put it in his pocket; from that time he has not been heard till
+to-day.'
+
+'Oh,' said the colonel, 'I'll get a sight of him; you are not used to
+these things; an old soldier has the best chance, and as I shall
+finish my dinner with this wing, I'll be ready for him when he speaks
+next--Mr. Bell, will you take a glass of wine with me?'
+
+'Ho, ho! Mr. Bell,' shouted Teigue. 'Ho, ho! Mr. Bell, you were a
+Quaker long ago. Ho, ho! Mr. Bell, you're a pretty boy! a pretty
+Quaker you were; and now you're no Quaker, nor anything else: ho, ho!
+Mr. Bell. And there's Mr. Parkes: to be sure, Mr. Parkes looks mighty
+fine to-day, with his powdered head, and his grand silk stockings and
+his bran-new rakish-red waistcoat. And there's Mr. Cole: did you ever
+see such a fellow? A pretty company you've brought together, Mr.
+Pratt: kiln-dried Quakers, butter-buying buckeens from Mallow Lane,
+and a drinking exciseman from the Coal Quay, to meet the great
+thundering artillery general that is come out of the Indies, and is
+the biggest dust of them all.'
+
+'You scoundrel!' exclaimed the colonel, 'I'll make you show yourself';
+and snatching up his sword from a corner of the room, he sprang out of
+the window upon the lawn. In a moment a shout of laughter, so hollow,
+so unlike any human sound, made him stop, as well as Mr. Bell, who
+with a huge oak stick was close at the colonel's heels; others of the
+party followed to the lawn, and the remainder rose and went to the
+windows. 'Come on, colonel,' said Mr. Bell; 'let us catch this
+impudent rascal.'
+
+'Ho, ho! Mr. Bell, here I am--here's Teigue--why don't you catch him?
+Ho, ho! Colonel Pratt, what a pretty soldier you are to draw your
+sword upon poor Teigue, that never did anybody harm.'
+
+'Let us see your face, you scoundrel,' said the colonel.
+
+'Ho, ho, ho!--look at me--look at me: do you see the wind, Colonel
+Pratt? you'll see Teigue as soon; so go in and finish your dinner.'
+
+'If you're upon the earth, I'll find you, you villain!' said the
+colonel, whilst the same unearthly shout of derision seemed to come
+from behind an angle of the building. 'He's round that corner,' said
+Mr. Bell, 'run, run.'
+
+They followed the sound, which was continued at intervals along the
+garden wall, but could discover no human being; at last both stopped
+to draw breath, and in an instant, almost at their ears, sounded the
+shout--
+
+'Ho, ho, ho! Colonel Pratt, do you see Teigue now? do you hear him?
+Ho, ho, ho! you're a fine colonel to follow the wind.'
+
+'Not that way, Mr. Bell--not that way; come here,' said the colonel.
+
+'Ho, ho, ho! what a fool you are; do you think Teigue is going to show
+himself to you in the field, there? But, colonel, follow me if you
+can: you a soldier! ho, ho, ho!' The colonel was enraged: he followed
+the voice over hedge and ditch, alternately laughed at and taunted by
+the unseen object of his pursuit (Mr. Bell, who was heavy, was soon
+thrown out); until at length, after being led a weary chase, he found
+himself at the top of the cliff, over that part of the river Lee,
+which, from its great depth, and the blackness of its water, has
+received the name of Hell-hole. Here, on the edge of the cliff, stood
+the colonel out of breath, and mopping his forehead with his
+handkerchief, while the voice, which seemed close at his feet,
+exclaimed, 'Now, Colonel Pratt, now, if you're a soldier, here's a
+leap for you! Now look at Teigue--why don't you look at him? Ho, ho,
+ho! Come along; you're warm, I'm sure, Colonel Pratt, so come in and
+cool yourself; Teigue is going to have a swim!' The voice seemed as if
+descending amongst the trailing ivy and brushwood which clothes this
+picturesque cliff nearly from top to bottom, yet it was impossible
+that any human being could have found footing. 'Now, colonel, have you
+courage to take the leap? Ho, ho, ho! what a pretty soldier you are.
+Good-bye; I'll see you again in ten minutes above, at the house--look
+at your watch, colonel: there's a dive for you'; and a heavy plunge
+into the water was heard. The colonel stood still, but no sound
+followed, and he walked slowly back to the house, not quite half a
+mile from the Crag.
+
+'Well, did you see Teigue?' said his brother, whilst his nephews,
+scarcely able to smother their laughter, stood by.
+
+'Give me some wine,' said the colonel. 'I never was led such a dance
+in my life; the fellow carried me all round and round till he brought
+me to the edge of the cliff, and then down he went into Hell-hole,
+telling me he'd be here in ten minutes; 'tis more than that now, but
+he's not come.'
+
+'Ho, ho, ho! colonel, isn't he here? Teigue never told a lie in his
+life: but, Mr. Pratt, give me a drink and my dinner, and then
+good-night to you all, for I'm tired; and that's the colonel's
+doing.' A plate of food was ordered; it was placed by John, with fear
+and trembling, on the lawn under the window. Every one kept on the
+watch, and the plate remained undisturbed for some time.
+
+'Ah! Mr. Pratt, will you starve poor Teigue? Make every one go away
+from the windows, and Master Henry out of the tree, and Master Richard
+off the garden wall.'
+
+The eyes of the company were turned to the tree and the garden wall;
+the two boys' attention was occupied in getting down; the visitors
+were looking at them; and 'Ho, ho, ho!--good luck to you, Mr. Pratt!
+'tis a good dinner, and there's the plate, ladies and gentlemen.
+Good-bye to you, colonel!--good-bye, Mr. Bell! good-bye to you all!'
+brought their attention back, when they saw the empty plate lying on
+the grass; and Teigue's voice was heard no more for that evening.
+Many visits were afterwards paid by Teigue; but never was he seen, nor
+was any discovery ever made of his person or character.
+
+
+
+
+THE FAIRY GREYHOUND
+
+
+Paddy M'Dermid was one of the most rollicking boys in the whole county
+of Kildare. Fair or pattern[3] wouldn't be held barring he was in the
+midst of it. He was in every place, like bad luck, and his poor little
+farm was seldom sowed in season; and where he expected barley, there
+grew nothing but weeds. Money became scarce in poor Paddy's pocket;
+and the cow went after the pig, until nearly all he had was gone.
+Lucky however for him, if he had _gomch_ (sense) enough to mind it, he
+had a most beautiful dream one night as he lay tossicated (drunk) in
+the Rath[4] of Monogue, because he wasn't able to come home. He dreamt
+that, under the place where he lay, a pot of money was buried since
+long before the memory of man. Paddy kept the dream to himself until
+the next night, when, taking a spade and pickaxe, with a bottle of
+holy water, he went to the Rath, and, having made a circle round the
+place, commenced diggin' sure enough, for the bare life and sowl of
+him thinkin' that he was made up for ever and ever. He had sunk about
+twice the depth of his knees, when _whack_ the pickaxe struck against
+a flag, and at the same time Paddy heard something breathe quite near
+him. He looked up, and just fornent him there sat on his haunches a
+comely-looking greyhound.
+
+[Footnote 3: A merry-making in the honour of some patron saint.]
+
+[Footnote 4: Raths are little fields enclosed by circular ditches.
+They are thought to be the sheep-folds and dwellings of an ancient
+people.]
+
+[Illustration: "FORNENT HIM THERE SAT ON HIS HAUNCHES A COMELY-LOOKING
+GREYHOUND." (_Page 71._)]
+
+'God save you,' said Paddy, every hair in his head standing up as
+straight as a sally twig.
+
+'Save you kindly,' answered the greyhound--leaving out God, the beast,
+bekase he was the divil. Christ defend us from ever seeing the likes
+o' him.
+
+'Musha, Paddy M'Dermid,' said he, 'what would you be looking after in
+that grave of a hole you're diggin' there?'
+
+'Faith, nothing at all, at all,' answered Paddy; bekase you see he
+didn't like the stranger.
+
+'Arrah, be easy now, Paddy M'Dermid,' said the greyhound; 'don't I
+know very well what you are looking for?'
+
+'Why then in truth, if you do, I may as well tell you at wonst,
+particularly as you seem a civil-looking gentleman, that's not above
+speaking to a poor gossoon like myself.' (Paddy wanted to butter him
+up a bit.)
+
+'Well then,' said the greyhound, 'come out here and sit down on this
+bank,' and Paddy, like a gomulagh (fool), did as he was desired, but
+had hardly put his brogue outside of the circle made by the holy
+water, when the beast of a hound set upon him, and drove him out of
+the Rath; for Paddy was frightened, as well he might, at the fire that
+flamed from his mouth. But next night he returned, full sure the money
+was there. As before, he made a circle, and touched the flag, when my
+gentleman, the greyhound, appeared in the ould place.
+
+'Oh ho,' said Paddy, 'you are there, are you? but it will be a long
+day, I promise you, before you trick me again'; and he made another
+stroke at the flag.
+
+'Well, Paddy M'Dermid,' said the hound, 'since you will have money,
+you must; but say, how much will satisfy you?'
+
+Paddy scratched his conlaan, and after a while said--
+
+'How much will your honour give me?' for he thought it better to be
+civil.
+
+'Just as much as you consider reasonable, Paddy M'Dermid.'
+
+'Egad,' says Paddy to himself, 'there's nothing like axin' enough.'
+
+'Say fifty thousand pounds,' said he. (He might as well have said a
+hundred thousand, for I'll be bail the beast had money gulloure.)
+
+'You shall have it,' said the hound; and then, after trotting away a
+little bit, he came back with a crock full of guineas between his
+paws.
+
+'Come here and reckon them,' said he; but Paddy was up to him, and
+refused to stir, so the crock was shoved alongside the blessed and
+holy circle, and Paddy pulled it in, right glad to have it in his
+clutches, and never stood still until he reached his own home, where
+his guineas turned into little bones, and his ould mother laughed at
+him. Paddy now swore vengeance against the deceitful beast of a
+greyhound, and went next night to the Rath again, where, as before, he
+met Mr. Hound.
+
+'So you are here again, Paddy?' said he.
+
+'Yes, you big blaggard,' said Paddy, 'and I'll never leave this place
+until I pull out the pot of money that's buried here.'
+
+'Oh, you won't,' said he. 'Well, Paddy M'Dermid, since I see you are
+such a brave venturesome fellow I'll be after making you up if you
+walk downstairs with me out of the could'; and sure enough it was
+snowing like murder.
+
+'Oh may I never see Athy if I do,' returned Paddy, 'for you only want
+to be loading me with ould bones, or perhaps breaking my own, which
+would be just as bad.'
+
+''Pon honour,' said the hound, 'I am your friend; and so don't stand
+in your own light; come with me and your fortune is made. Remain where
+you are and you'll die a beggar-man.' So bedad, with one palaver and
+another, Paddy consented; and in the middle of the Rath opened up a
+beautiful staircase, down which they walked; and after winding and
+turning they came to a house much finer than the Duke of Leinster's,
+in which all the tables and chairs were solid gold. Paddy was
+delighted; and after sitting down, a fine lady handed him a glass of
+something to drink; but he had hardly swallowed a spoonful when all
+around set up a horrid yell, and those who before appeared beautiful
+now looked like what they were--enraged 'good people' (fairies).
+Before Paddy could bless himself, they seized him, legs and arms,
+carried him out to a great high hill that stood like a wall over a
+river, and flung him down. 'Murder!' cried Paddy; but it was no use,
+no use; he fell upon a rock, and lay there as dead until next morning,
+where some people found him in the trench that surrounds the _mote_ of
+Coulhall, the 'good people' having carried him there; and from that
+hour to the day of his death he was the greatest object in the world.
+He walked double, and had his mouth (God bless us) where his ear
+should be.
+
+
+
+
+THE LADY OF GOLLERUS
+
+BY CROFTON CROKER
+
+
+On the shore of Smerwick harbour, one fine summer's morning, just at
+daybreak, stood Dick Fitzgerald 'shoghing the dudeen,' which may be
+translated, smoking his pipe. The sun was gradually rising behind the
+lofty Brandon, the dark sea was getting green in the light, and the
+mists clearing away out of the valleys went rolling and curling like
+the smoke from the corner of Dick's mouth.
+
+''Tis just the pattern of a pretty morning,' said Dick, taking the
+pipe from between his lips, and looking towards the distant ocean,
+which lay as still and tranquil as a tomb of polished marble. 'Well,
+to be sure,' continued he, after a pause, ''tis mighty lonesome to be
+talking to one's self by way of company, and not to have another soul
+to answer one--nothing but the child of one's own voice, the echo! I
+know this, that if I had the luck, or may be the misfortune,' said
+Dick, with a melancholy smile, 'to have the woman, it would not be
+this way with me! and what in the wide world is a man without a wife?
+He's no more surely than a bottle without a drop of drink in it, or
+dancing without music, or the left leg of a scissors, or a
+fishing-line without a hook, or any other matter that is no ways
+complete. Is it not so?' said Dick Fitzgerald, casting his eyes
+towards a rock upon the strand, which, though it could not speak,
+stood up as firm and looked as bold as ever Kerry witness did.
+
+But what was his astonishment at beholding, just at the foot of that
+rock, a beautiful young creature combing her hair, which was of a
+sea-green colour; and now the salt water shining on it appeared, in
+the morning light, like melted butter upon cabbage.
+
+Dick guessed at once that she was a Merrow,[5] although he had never
+seen one before, for he spied the _cohuleen driuth_, or little
+enchanted cap, which the sea people use for diving down into the
+ocean, lying upon the strand near her; and he had heard that, if once
+he could possess himself of the cap she would lose the power of going
+away into the water: so he seized it with all speed, and she, hearing
+the noise, turned her head about as natural as any Christian.
+
+[Footnote 5: Sea fairy.]
+
+When the Merrow saw that her little diving-cap was gone, the salt
+tears--doubly salt, no doubt, from her--came trickling down her
+cheeks, and she began a low mournful cry with just the tender voice
+of a new-born infant. Dick, although he knew well enough what she was
+crying for, determined to keep the _cohuleen driuth_, let her cry
+never so much, to see what luck would come out of it. Yet he could not
+help pitying her; and when the dumb thing looked up in his face, with
+her cheeks all moist with tears, 'twas enough to make any one feel,
+let alone Dick, who had ever and always, like most of his countrymen,
+a mighty tender heart of his own.
+
+'Don't cry, my darling,' said Dick Fitzgerald; but the Merrow, like
+any bold child, only cried the more for that.
+
+Dick sat himself down by her side, and took hold of her hand by way of
+comforting her. 'Twas in no particular an ugly hand, only there was a
+small web between the fingers, as there is in a duck's foot; but 'twas
+as thin and as white as the skin between egg and shell.
+
+'What's your name, my darling?' says Dick, thinking to make her
+conversant with him; but he got no answer; and he was certain sure
+now, either that she could not speak, or did not understand him: he
+therefore squeezed her hand in his, as the only way he had of talking
+to her. It's the universal language; and there's not a woman in the
+world, be she fish or lady, that does not understand it.
+
+The Merrow did not seem much displeased at this mode of conversation;
+and making an end of her whining all at once, 'Man,' says she, looking
+up in Dick Fitzgerald's face; 'man, will you eat me?'
+
+'By all the red petticoats and check aprons between Dingle and
+Tralee,' cried Dick, jumping up in amazement, 'I'd as soon eat myself,
+my jewel! Is it I eat you, my pet? Now, 'twas some ugly ill-looking
+thief of a fish put that notion into your own pretty head, with the
+nice green hair down upon it, that is so cleanly combed out this
+morning!'
+
+'Man,' said the Merrow, 'what will you do with me if you won't eat
+me?'
+
+Dick's thoughts were running on a wife: he saw, at the first glimpse,
+that she was handsome; but since she spoke, and spoke too like any
+real woman, he was fairly in love with her. 'Twas the neat way she
+called him man that settled the matter entirely.
+
+'Fish,' says Dick, trying to speak to her after her own short fashion;
+'fish,' says he, 'here's my word, fresh and fasting, for you this
+blessed morning, that I'll make you Mistress Fitzgerald before all the
+world, and that's what I'll do.'
+
+'Never say the word twice,' says she; 'I'm ready and willing to be
+yours, Mister Fitzgerald; but stop, if you please, till I twist up my
+hair.' It was some time before she had settled it entirely to her
+liking; for she guessed, I suppose, that she was going among
+strangers, where she would be looked at. When that was done, the
+Merrow put the comb in her pocket, and then bent down her head and
+whispered some words to the water that was close to the foot of the
+rock.
+
+Dick saw the murmur of the words upon the top of the sea, going out
+towards the wide ocean, just like a breath of wind rippling along,
+and, says he, in the greatest wonder, 'Is it speaking you are, my
+darling, to the salt water?'
+
+'It's nothing else,' says she, quite carelessly; 'I'm just sending
+word home to my father not to be waiting breakfast for me; just to
+keep him from being uneasy in his mind.'
+
+'And who's your father, my duck?' said Dick.
+
+'What!' said the Merrow, 'did you never hear of my father? he's the
+king of the waves to be sure!'
+
+'And yourself, then, is a real king's daughter?' said Dick, opening
+his two eyes to take a full and true survey of his wife that was to
+be. 'Oh, I'm nothing else but a made man with you, and a king your
+father; to be sure he has all the money that's down at the bottom of
+the sea!'
+
+'Money,' repeated the Merrow, 'what's money?'
+
+''Tis no bad thing to have when one wants it,' replied Dick; 'and may
+be now the fishes have the understanding to bring up whatever you bid
+them?'
+
+'Oh yes,' said the Merrow, 'they bring me what I want.'
+
+'To speak the truth then,' said Dick, ''tis a straw bed I have at home
+before you, and that, I'm thinking, is no ways fitting for a king's
+daughter; so if 'twould not be displeasing to you, just to mention a
+nice feather bed, with a pair of new blankets--but what am I talking
+about? may be you have not such things as beds down under the water?'
+
+'By all means,' said she, 'Mr. Fitzgerald--plenty of beds at your
+service. I've fourteen oyster-beds of my own, not to mention one just
+planting for the rearing of young ones.'
+
+'You have?' says Dick, scratching his head and looking a little
+puzzled. ''Tis a feather bed I was speaking of; but, clearly, yours is
+the very cut of a decent plan to have bed and supper so handy to each
+other, that a person when they'd have the one need never ask for the
+other.'
+
+However, bed or no bed, money or no money, Dick Fitzgerald determined
+to marry the Merrow, and the Merrow had given her consent. Away they
+went, therefore, across the strand, from Gollerus to Ballinrunnig,
+where Father Fitzgibbon happened to be that morning.
+
+'There are two words to this bargain, Dick Fitzgerald,' said his
+Reverence, looking mighty glum. 'And is it a fishy woman you'd marry?
+The Lord preserve us! Send the scaly creature home to her own people;
+that's my advice to you, wherever she came from.'
+
+Dick had the _cohuleen driuth_ in his hand, and was about to give it
+back to the Merrow, who looked covetously at it, but he thought for a
+moment, and then says he, 'Please your Reverence, she's a king's
+daughter.'
+
+'If she was the daughter of fifty kings,' said Father Fitzgibbon, 'I
+tell you, you can't marry her, she being a fish.'
+
+'Please your Reverence,' said Dick again, in an undertone, 'she is as
+mild and as beautiful as the moon.'
+
+'If she was as mild and as beautiful as the sun, moon, and stars, all
+put together, I tell you, Dick Fitzgerald,' said the Priest, stamping
+his right foot, 'you can't marry her, she being a fish.'
+
+'But she has all the gold that's down in the sea only for the asking,
+and I'm a made man if I marry her; and,' said Dick, looking up slily,
+'I can make it worth any one's while to do the job.'
+
+'Oh! that alters the case entirely,' replied the Priest; 'why there's
+some reason now in what you say: why didn't you tell me this before?
+marry her by all means, if she was ten times a fish. Money, you know,
+is not to be refused in these bad times, and I may as well have the
+hansel of it as another, that may be would not take half the pains in
+counselling you that I have done.'
+
+So Father Fitzgibbon married Dick Fitzgerald to the Merrow, and like
+any loving couple, they returned to Gollerus well pleased with each
+other. Everything prospered with Dick--he was at the sunny side of the
+world; the Merrow made the best of wives, and they lived together in
+the greatest contentment.
+
+It was wonderful to see, considering where she had been brought up,
+how she would busy herself about the house, and how well she nursed
+the children; for, at the end of three years there were as many young
+Fitzgeralds--two boys and a girl.
+
+In short, Dick was a happy man, and so he might have been to the end
+of his days if he had only had the sense to take care of what he had
+got; many another man, however, beside Dick, has not had wit enough to
+do that.
+
+One day, when Dick was obliged to go to Tralee, he left the wife
+minding the children at home after him, and thinking she had plenty to
+do without disturbing his fishing-tackle.
+
+Dick was no sooner gone than Mrs. Fitzgerald set about cleaning up the
+house, and chancing to pull down a fishing-net, what should she find
+behind it in a hole in the wall but her own _cohuleen driuth_. She
+took it out and looked at it, and then she thought of her father the
+king, and her mother the queen, and her brothers and sisters, and she
+felt a longing to go back to them.
+
+She sat down on a little stool and thought over the happy days she had
+spent under the sea; then she looked at her children, and thought on
+the love and affection of poor Dick, and how it would break his heart
+to lose her. 'But,' says she, 'he won't lose me entirely, for I'll
+come back to him again, and who can blame me for going to see my
+father and my mother after being so long away from them?'
+
+She got up and went towards the door, but came back again to look once
+more at the child that was sleeping in the cradle. She kissed it
+gently, and as she kissed it a tear trembled for an instant in her eye
+and then fell on its rosy cheek. She wiped away the tear, and turning
+to the eldest little girl, told her to take good care of her brothers,
+and to be a good child herself until she came back. The Merrow then
+went down to the strand. The sea was lying calm and smooth, just
+heaving and glittering in the sun, and she thought she heard a faint
+sweet singing, inviting her to come down. All her old ideas and
+feelings came flooding over her mind, Dick and her children were at
+the instant forgotten, and placing the _cohuleen driuth_ on her head
+she plunged in.
+
+Dick came home in the evening, and missing his wife he asked Kathleen,
+his little girl, what had become of her mother, but she could not tell
+him. He then inquired of the neighbours, and he learned that she was
+seen going towards the strand with a strange-looking thing like a
+cocked hat in her hand. He returned to his cabin to search for the
+_cohuleen driuth_. It was gone, and the truth now flashed upon him.
+
+Year after year did Dick Fitzgerald wait expecting the return of his
+wife, but he never saw her more. Dick never married again, always
+thinking that the Merrow would sooner or later return to him, and
+nothing could ever persuade him but that her father the king kept her
+below by main force; 'for,' said Dick, 'she surely would not of
+herself give up her husband and her children.'
+
+While she was with him she was so good a wife in every respect that to
+this day she is spoken of in the tradition of the country as the
+pattern for one, under the name of THE LADY OF GOLLERUS.
+
+
+
+
+EVIL SPIRITS
+
+
+
+
+THE DEVIL'S MILL
+
+BY SAMUEL LOVER
+
+
+You see, sir, there was a colonel wanst, in times back, that owned a
+power of land about here--but God keep uz, they said he didn't come by
+it honestly, but did a crooked turn whenever 'twas to sarve himself.
+
+Well, the story goes that at last the divil (God bless us) kem to him,
+and promised him hapes o' money, and all his heart could desire and
+more, too, if he'd sell his sowl in exchange.
+
+He was too cunnin' for that; bad as he was--and he was bad enough God
+knows--he had some regard for his poor sinful sowl, and he would not
+give himself up to the divil, all out; but, the villain, he thought he
+might make a bargain with the _old chap_, and get all he wanted, and
+keep himself out of harm's way still: for he was mighty 'cute--and,
+throth, he was able for Owld Nick any day.
+
+Well, the bargain was struck, and it was this-a-way: the divil was to
+give him all the goold ever he'd ask for, and was to let him alone as
+long as he could; and the timpter promised him a long day, and said
+'twould be a great while before he'd want him at all, at all; and whin
+that time kem, he was to keep his hands aff him, as long as the other
+could give him some work he couldn't do.
+
+So, when the bargain was made, 'Now,' says the colonel to the divil,
+'give me all the money I want.'
+
+'As much as you like,' says Owld Nick; 'how much will you have?'
+
+'You must fill me that room,' says he, pointin' into a murtherin' big
+room that he emptied out on purpose--'you must fill that room,' says
+he, 'up to the very ceilin' with goolden guineas.'
+
+'And welkem,' says the divil.
+
+With that, sir, he began to shovel the guineas into the room like mad;
+and the colonel towld him, that as soon as he was done, to come to him
+in his own parlour below, and that he would then go up and see if the
+divil was as good as his word, and had filled the room with the
+goolden guineas. So the colonel went downstairs, and the owld fellow
+worked away as busy as a nailer, shovellin' in the guineas by
+hundherds and thousands.
+
+Well, he worked away for an hour and more, and at last he began to get
+tired; and he thought it _mighty odd_ that the room wasn't fillin'
+fasther. Well, afther restin' for awhile, he began agin, and he put
+his shouldher to the work in airnest; but still the room was no
+fuller at all, at all.
+
+'Och! bad luck to me,' says the divil, 'but the likes of this I never
+seen,' says he, 'far and near, up and down--the dickens a room I ever
+kem across afore,' says he, 'I couldn't cram while a cook would be
+crammin' a turkey, till now; and here I am,' says he, 'losin' my whole
+day, and I with such a power o' work an my hands yit, and this room no
+fuller than five minutes ago.'
+
+Begor, while he was spakin' he seen the hape o' guineas in the middle
+of the flure growing _littler and littler_ every minit; and at last
+they wor disappearing, for all the world like corn in the hopper of a
+mill.
+
+'Ho! ho!' says Owld Nick, 'is that the way wid you?' says he; and wid
+that, he ran over to the hape of goold--and what would you think, but
+it was runnin' down through a great big hole in the flure, that the
+colonel made through the ceilin' in the room below; and that was the
+work he was at afther he left the divil, though he purtended he was
+only waitin' for him in his parlour; and there the divil, when he
+looked down the hole in the flure, seen the colonel, not content with
+the _two_ rooms full of guineas, but with a big shovel throwin' them
+into a closet a' one side of him as fast as they fell down. So,
+putting his head through the hole, he called down to the colonel:
+
+'Hillo, neighbour!' says he.
+
+The colonel looked up, and grew as white as a sheet, when he seen he
+was found out, and the red eyes starin' down at him through the hole.
+
+'Musha, bad luck to your impudence!' says Owld Nick: 'it is sthrivin'
+to chate _me_ you are,' says he, 'you villain!'
+
+'Oh, forgive me for this wanst!' says the colonel, 'and, upon the
+honour of a gintleman,' says he, 'I'll never----'
+
+'Whisht! whisht! you thievin' rogue,' says the divil, 'I'm not angry
+with you at all, at all, but only like you the betther, bekase you're
+so cute;--lave off slaving yourself there,' says he, 'you have got
+goold enough for this time; and whenever you want more, you have only
+to say the word, and it shall be yours to command.'
+
+So with that, the divil and he parted for that time: and myself
+doesn't know whether they used to meet often afther or not; but the
+colonel never wanted money, anyhow, but went on prosperous in the
+world--and, as the saying is, if he took the dirt out o' the road, it
+id turn to money wid him; and so, in course of time, he bought great
+estates, and was a great man entirely--not a greater in Ireland,
+throth.
+
+At last, afther many years of prosperity, the owld colonel got
+stricken in years, and he began to have misgivings in his conscience
+for his wicked doings, and his heart was heavy as the fear of death
+came upon him; and sure enough, while he had such murnful thoughts,
+the divil kem to him, and towld him _he should go wid him_.
+
+Well, to be sure, the owld man was frekened, but he plucked up his
+courage and his cuteness, and towld the divil, in a bantherin' way,
+jokin' like, that he had partic'lar business thin, that he was goin'
+to a party, and hoped an _owld friend_ wouldn't inconvaynience him
+that-a-way.
+
+The divil said he'd call the next day, and that he must be ready; and
+sure enough in the evenin' he kem to him; and when the colonel seen
+him, he reminded him of his bargain that as long as he could give him
+some work he couldn't do, he wasn't obleeged to go.
+
+'That's thrue,' says the divil.
+
+'I'm glad you're as good as your word, anyhow,' says the colonel.
+
+'I never bruk my word yit,' says the owld chap, cocking up his horns
+consaitedly; 'honour bright,' says he.
+
+'Well then,' says the colonel, 'build me a mill, down there, by the
+river,' says he, 'and let me have it finished by to-morrow mornin'.'
+
+'Your will is my pleasure,' says the owld chap, and away he wint; and
+the colonel thought he had nicked Owld Nick at last, and wint to bed
+quite aisy in his mind.
+
+But, _jewel machree_, sure the first thing he heerd the next mornin'
+was that the whole counthry round was runnin' to see a fine bran new
+mill that was an the river-side, where the evening before not a thing
+at all, at all, but rushes was standin', and all, of coorse, wonderin'
+what brought it there; and some sayin' 'twas not lucky, and many more
+throubled in their mind, but one and all agreein' it was no _good_;
+and that's the very mill forninst you.
+
+But when the colonel heered it he was more throubled than any, of
+coorse, and began to conthrive what else he could think iv to keep
+himself out iv the claws of the _owld one_. Well, he often heerd tell
+that there was one thing the divil never could do, and I darsay you
+heerd it too, sir,--that is, that he couldn't make a rope out of the
+sands of the say; and so when the _owld one_ kem to him the next day
+and said his job was done, and that now the mill was built he must
+either tell him somethin' else he wanted done, or come away wid him.
+
+So the colonel said he saw it was all over wid him. 'But,' says he, 'I
+wouldn't like to go wid you alive, and sure it's all the same to you,
+alive or dead?'
+
+'Oh, that won't do,' says his frind; 'I can't wait no more,' says he.
+
+'I don't want you to wait, my dear frind,' says the colonel; 'all I
+want is, that you'll be plased to kill me before you take me away.'
+
+'With pleasure,' says Owld Nick.
+
+'But will you promise me my choice of dyin' one partic'lar way?' says
+the colonel.
+
+'Half a dozen ways, if it plazes you,' says he.
+
+'You're mighty obleegin',' says the colonel; 'and so,' says he, 'I'd
+rather die by bein' hanged with a rope _made out of the sands of the
+say_,' says he, lookin' mighty knowin' at the _owld fellow_.
+
+'I've always one about me,' says the divil, 'to obleege my frinds,'
+says he; and with that he pulls out a rope made of sand, sure enough.
+
+'Oh, it's game you're makin',' says the colonel, growin' as white as a
+sheet.
+
+'The _game is mine_, sure enough,' says the owld fellow, grinnin',
+with a terrible laugh.
+
+'That's not a sand-rope at all,' says the colonel.
+
+'Isn't it?' says the divil, hittin' him acrass the face with the ind
+iv the rope, and the sand (for it _was_ made of sand, sure enough)
+went into one of his eyes, and made the tears come with the pain.
+
+'That bates all I ever seen or heerd,' says the colonel, sthrivin' to
+rally and make another offer; 'is there anything you _can't_ do?'
+
+'Nothing you can tell me,' says the divil, 'so you may as well leave
+off your palaverin' and come along at wanst.'
+
+'Will you give me one more offer,' says the colonel.
+
+'You don't desarve it,' says the divil; 'but I don't care if I do';
+for you see, sir, he was only playin' wid him, and tantalising the
+owld sinner.
+
+'All fair,' says the colonel, and with that he ax'd him could he stop
+a woman's tongue.
+
+'Thry me,' says Owld Nick.
+
+'Well then,' says the colonel, 'make my lady's tongue be quiet for the
+next month and I'd thank you.'
+
+'She'll never trouble you agin,' says Owld Nick; and with that the
+colonel heerd roarin' and cryin', and the door of his room was thrown
+open and in ran his daughter, and fell down at his feet, telling him
+her mother had just dhropped dead.
+
+The minit the door opened, the divil runs and hides himself behind a
+big elbow-chair; and the colonel was frekened almost out of his siven
+sinses by raison of the sudden death of his poor lady, let alone the
+jeopardy he was in himself, seein' how the divil had _forestalled_ him
+every way; and after ringin' his bell and callin' to his sarvants and
+recoverin' his daughter out of her faint, he was goin' away wid her
+out of the room, whin the divil caught howld of him by the skirt of
+the coat, and the colonel was obleeged to let his daughter be carried
+out by the sarvants, and shut the door afther them.
+
+'Well,' says the divil, and he grinn'd and wagg'd his tail, all as one
+as a dog when he's plaised; 'what do you say now?' says he.
+
+'Oh,' says the colonel, 'only lave me alone until I bury my poor
+wife,' says he, 'and I'll go with you then, you villain,' says he.
+
+'Don't call names,' says the divil; 'you had better keep a civil
+tongue in your head,' says he; 'and it doesn't become a gintleman to
+forget good manners.'
+
+'Well, sir, to make a long story short, the divil purtended to let him
+off, out of kindness, for three days antil his wife was buried; but
+the raison of it was this, that when the lady his daughter fainted, he
+loosened the clothes about her throat, and in pulling some of her
+dhress away, he tuk off a goold chain that was on her neck and put it
+in his pocket, and the chain had a diamond crass on it (the Lord be
+praised!) and the divil darn't touch him while he had _the sign of the
+crass_ about him.
+
+Well, the poor colonel (God forgive him!) was grieved for the loss of
+his lady, and she had an _illigant berrin_--and they say that when the
+prayers was readin' over the dead, the owld colonel took it to heart
+like anything, and the word o' God kem home to his poor sinful sowl at
+last.
+
+Well, sir, to make a long story short, the ind of it was, that for the
+three days o' grace that was given to him the poor deluded owld sinner
+did nothin' at all but read the Bible from mornin' till night, and bit
+or sup didn't pass his lips all the time, he was so intint upon the
+Holy Book, but he sat up in an owld room in the far ind of the house,
+and bid no one disturb him an no account, and struv to make his heart
+bould with the words iv life; and sure it was somethin' strinthened
+him at last, though as the time drew nigh that the _inimy_ was to
+come, he didn't feel aisy, and no wondher; and, bedad the three days
+was past and gone in no time, and the story goes that at the dead hour
+o' the night, when the poor sinner was readin' away as fast as he
+could, my jew'l, his heart jumped up to his mouth at gettin' a tap on
+the shoulder.
+
+'Oh, murther!' says he, 'who's there?' for he was afeard to look up.
+
+'It's me,' says the _owld one_, and he stood right forninst him, and
+his eyes like coals o' fire, lookin' him through, and he said, with a
+voice that almost split his owld heart, 'Come!' says he.
+
+'Another day!' cried out the poor colonel.
+
+'Not another hour,' says Sat'n.
+
+'Half an hour!'
+
+'Not a quarther,' says the divil, grinnin' with a bitther laugh;
+'give over your reading I bid you,' says he, 'and come away wid me.'
+
+'Only gi' me a few minits,' says he.
+
+'Lave aff your palaverin' you snakin' owld sinner,' says Sat'n; 'you
+know you're bought and sould to me, and a purty bargain I have o' you,
+you owld baste,' says he; 'so come along at wanst,' and he put out his
+claw to ketch him; but the colonel tuk a fast hould o' the Bible, and
+begged hard that he'd let him alone, and wouldn't harm him antil the
+bit o' candle that was just blinkin' in the socket before him was
+burned out.
+
+'Well, have it so, you dirty coward,' says Owld Nick, and with that he
+spit an him.
+
+But the poor owld colonel didn't lose a minit (for he was cunnin' to
+the ind), but snatched the little taste o' candle that was forninst
+him out o' the candlestick, and puttin' it an the Holy Book before
+him, he shut down the cover of it and quinched the light. With that
+the divil gave a roar like a bull, and vanished in a flash o' fire,
+and the poor colonel fainted away in his chair; but the sarvants heerd
+the noise (for the divil tore aff the roof o' the house when he left
+it), and run into the room, and brought their master to himself agin.
+And from that day he was an althered man, and used to have the Bible
+read to him every day, for he couldn't read himself any more, by
+raison of losin' his eyesight when the divil hit him with the rope of
+sand in the face, and afther spit an him--for the sand wint into one
+eye, and he lost the other that-a-way, savin' your presence.
+
+
+
+
+FERGUS O'MARA AND THE AIR-DEMONS
+
+BY DR. P. W. JOYCE
+
+
+Of all the different kinds of goblins that haunted the lonely places
+of Ireland in days of old, air-demons were most dreaded by the people.
+They lived among clouds, and mists, and rocks, and they hated the
+human race with the utmost malignity. In those times lived in the
+north of Desmond (the present county of Cork) a man man named Fergus
+O'Mara. His farm lay on the southern slope of the Ballyhoura
+Mountains, along which ran the open road that led to his house. This
+road was not shut in by walls or fences; but on both sides there were
+scattered trees and bushes that sheltered it in winter, and made it
+dark and gloomy when you approached the house at night. Beside the
+road, a little way off from the house, there was a spot that had an
+evil name all over the country, a little hill covered closely with
+copsewood, with a great craggy rock on top, from which, on stormy
+nights, strange and fearful sounds had often been heard--shrill
+voices, and screams, mingled with loud fiendish laughter; and the
+people believed that it was the haunt of air-demons. In some way it
+had become known that these demons had an eye on Fergus, and watched
+for every opportunity to get him into their power. He had himself been
+warned of this many years before, by an old monk from the neighbouring
+monastery of Buttevant, who told him, moreover, that so long as he
+led a blameless, upright life, he need have no fear of the demons; but
+that if ever he yielded to temptation or fell into any great sin, then
+would come the opportunity for which they were watching day and night.
+He never forgot this warning, and he was very careful to keep himself
+straight, both because he was naturally a good man, and for fear of
+the air-demons.
+
+Some time before the occurrence about to be related, one of Fergus's
+children, a sweet little girl about seven years of age, fell ill and
+died. The little thing gradually wasted away, but suffered no pain;
+and as she grew weaker she became more loving and gentle than ever,
+and talked in a wonderful way, quite beyond her years, of the bright
+land she was going to. One thing she was particularly anxious about,
+that when she was dying they should let her hold a blessed candle in
+her hand. They thought it very strange that she should be so
+continually thinking and talking of this; and over and over again she
+made her father and mother promise that it should be done. And with
+the blessed candle in her hand she died so calmly and sweetly that
+those round her bed could not tell the exact moment.
+
+About a year after this, on a bright Sunday morning in October, Fergus
+set out for Mass. The place was about three miles away, and it was not
+a chapel,[6] but a lonely old fort, called to this day Lissanaffrin,
+the fort of the Mass. A rude stone altar stood at one side near the
+mound of the fort, under a little shed that sheltered the priest also;
+and the congregation worshipped in the open air on the green plot in
+the centre. For in those days there were many places that had no
+chapels; and the people flocked to these open-air Masses as
+faithfully as we do now to our stately comfortable chapels. The family
+had gone on before, the men walking and the women and children riding;
+and Fergus set out to walk alone.
+
+[Footnote 6: A fort is the same as a rath (see p. 70); a few are
+fenced in with unmortared stone walls instead of clay ditches.]
+
+Just as he approached the Demons' Rock he was greatly surprised to
+hear the eager yelping of dogs, and in a moment a great deer bounded
+from the covert beside the rock, with three hounds after her in full
+chase. No man in the whole country round loved a good chase better
+than Fergus, or had a swifter foot to follow, and without a moment's
+hesitation he started in pursuit. But in a few minutes he stopped up
+short; for he bethought him of the Mass, and he knew there was little
+time for delay. While he stood wavering, the deer seemed to slacken
+her pace, and the hounds gained on her, and in a moment Fergus dashed
+off at full speed, forgetting Mass and everything else in his
+eagerness for the sport. But it turned out a long and weary chase.
+Sometimes they slackened, and he was almost at the hounds' tails, but
+the next moment both deer and hounds started forward and left him far
+behind. Sometimes they were in full view, and again they were out of
+sight in thickets and deep glens, so that he could guide himself only
+by the cry of the hounds. In this way he was decoyed across hills and
+glens, but instead of gaining ground he found himself rather falling
+behind.
+
+Mass was all over and the people dispersed to their homes, and all
+wondered that they did not see Fergus; for no one could remember that
+he was ever absent before. His wife returned, expecting to find him at
+home; but when she arrived there was trouble in her heart, for there
+were no tidings of him, and no one had seen him since he had set out
+for Mass in the morning.
+
+Meantime Fergus followed up the chase till he was wearied out; and at
+last, just on the edge of a wild moor, both deer and hounds
+disappeared behind a shoulder of rock, and he lost them altogether. At
+the same moment the cry of the hounds became changed to frightful
+shrieks and laughter, such as he had heard more than once from the
+Demons' Rock. And now, sitting down on a bank to rest, he had full
+time to reflect on what he had done, and he was overwhelmed with
+remorse and shame. Moreover, his heart sank within him, thinking of
+the last sounds he had heard; for he believed that he had been allured
+from Mass by the cunning wiles of the demons, and he feared that the
+dangerous time had come foretold by the monk. He started up and set
+out for his home, hoping to reach it before night. But before he had
+got half-way night fell and a storm came on, great wind and rain and
+bursts of thunder and lightning. Fergus was strong and active,
+however, and knew every turn of the mountain, and he made his way
+through the storm till he approached the Demons' Rock.
+
+Suddenly there burst on his ears the very same sounds that he had
+heard on losing sight of the chase--shouts and shrieks and laughter. A
+great black ragged cloud, whirling round and round with furious gusts
+of wind, burst from the rock and came sweeping and tearing towards
+him. Crossing himself in terror and uttering a short prayer, he rushed
+for home. But the whirlwind swept nearer, till at last, in a sort of
+dim, shadowy light, he saw the black cloud full of frightful faces,
+all glaring straight at him and coming closer and closer. At this
+moment a bright light dropped down from the sky and rested in front of
+the cloud; and when he looked up, he saw his little child floating in
+the air between him and the demons, holding a lighted candle in her
+hand. And although the storm was raging and roaring all round, she
+was quite calm--not a breath of air stirred her long yellow hair--and
+the candle burned quietly. Even in the midst of all his terror he
+could observe her pale gentle face and blue eyes just as when she was
+alive, not showing traces of sickness or sadness now, but lighted up
+with joy. The demons seemed to start back from the light, and with
+great uproar rushed round to the other side of Fergus, the black cloud
+still moving with them and wrapping them up in its ragged folds; but
+the little angel floated softly round, still keeping between them and
+her father. Fergus ran on for home, and the cloud of demons still kept
+furiously whirling round and round him, bringing with them a whirlwind
+that roared among the trees and bushes and tore them from the roots;
+but still the child, always holding the candle towards them, kept
+floating calmly round and shielded him.
+
+At length he arrived at his house; the door lay half-open, for the
+family were inside expecting him home, listening with wonder and
+affright to the approaching noises; and he bounded in through the
+doorway and fell flat on his face. That instant the door--though no
+one was near--was shut violently, and the bolts were shot home. They
+hurried anxiously round him to lift him up, but found him in a
+death-like swoon. Meantime the uproar outside became greater than
+ever; round and round the house it tore, a roaring whirlwind with
+shouts and yells of rage, and great trampling, as if there was a whole
+company of horsemen. At length, however, the noises seemed to move
+away farther and farther off from the house, and gradually died away
+in the distance. At the same time the storm ceased, and the night
+became calm and beautiful.
+
+The daylight was shining in through the windows when Fergus recovered
+from his swoon, and then he told his fearful story; but many days
+passed over before he had quite recovered from the horrors of that
+night. When the family came forth in the morning there was fearful
+waste all round and near the house, trees and bushes torn from the
+roots, and the ground all trampled and torn up. After this the revelry
+of the demons was never again heard from the rock; and it was believed
+that they had left it and betaken themselves to some other haunt.
+
+
+
+
+THE MAN WHO NEVER KNEW FEAR
+
+TRANSLATED FROM THE GAELIC BY DOUGLAS HYDE
+
+
+There was once a lady, and she had two sons whose names were Louras
+(Lawrence) and Carrol. From the day that Lawrence was born nothing
+ever made him afraid, but Carrol would never go outside the door from
+the time the darkness of the night began.
+
+It was the custom at that time when a person died for people to watch
+the dead person's grave in turn, one after another; for there used to
+be destroyers going about stealing the corpses.
+
+When the mother of Carrol and Lawrence died, Carrol said to Lawrence--
+
+'You say that nothing ever made you afraid yet, but I'll make a bet
+with you that you haven't courage to watch your mother's tomb
+to-night.'
+
+'I'll make a bet with you that I have,' said Lawrence.
+
+When the darkness of the night was coming, Lawrence put on his sword
+and went to the burying-ground. He sat down on a tombstone near his
+mother's grave till it was far in the night and sleep was coming upon
+him. Then he saw a big black thing coming to him, and when it came
+near him he saw that it was a head without a body that was in it. He
+drew the sword to give it a blow if it should come any nearer, but it
+didn't come. Lawrence remained looking at it until the light of the
+day was coming, then the head-without-body went, and Lawrence came
+home.
+
+Carrol asked him, did he see anything in the graveyard.
+
+'I did,' said Lawrence, 'and my mother's body would be gone, but that
+I was guarding it.'
+
+'Was it dead or alive, the person you saw?' said Carrol.
+
+'I don't know was it dead or alive,' said Lawrence; 'there was nothing
+in it but a head without a body.'
+
+'Weren't you afraid?' says Carrol.
+
+'Indeed I wasn't,' said Lawrence; 'don't you know that nothing in the
+world ever put fear on me.'
+
+'I'll bet again with you that you haven't the courage to watch
+to-night again,' says Carrol.
+
+'I would make that bet with you,' said Lawrence, 'but that there is a
+night's sleep wanting to me. Go yourself to-night.'
+
+'I wouldn't go to the graveyard to-night if I were to get the riches
+of the world,' says Carrol.
+
+'Unless you go your mother's body will be gone in the morning,' says
+Lawrence.
+
+'If only you watch to-night and to-morrow night, I never will ask of
+you to do a turn of work as long as you will be alive,' said Carrol,
+'but I think there is fear on you.'
+
+'To show you that there's no fear on me,' said Lawrence, 'I will
+watch.'
+
+He went to sleep, and when the evening came he rose up, put on his
+sword, and went to the graveyard. He sat on a tombstone near his
+mother's grave. About the middle of the night he heard a great sound
+coming. A big black thing came as far as the grave and began rooting
+up the clay. Lawrence drew back his sword, and with one blow he made
+two halves of the big black thing, and with the second blow he made
+two halves of each half, and he saw it no more.
+
+Lawrence went home in the morning, and Carrol asked him did he see
+anything.
+
+'I did,' said Lawrence, 'and only that I was there my mother's body
+would be gone.'
+
+'Is it the head-without-body that came again?' said Carrol.
+
+'It was not, but a big black thing, and it was digging up my mother's
+grave until I made two halves of it.'
+
+Lawrence slept that day, and when the evening came he rose up, put on
+his sword, and went to the churchyard. He sat down on a tombstone
+until it was the middle of the night. Then he saw a thing as white as
+snow and as hateful as sin; it had a man's head on it, and teeth as
+long as a flax-carder. Lawrence drew back the sword and was going to
+deal it a blow, when it said--
+
+'Hold your hand; you have saved your mother's body, and there is not a
+man in Ireland as brave as you. There is great riches waiting for you
+if you go looking for it.'
+
+Lawrence went home, and Carrol asked him did he see anything.
+
+'I did,' said Lawrence, 'and but that I was there my mother's body
+would be gone, but there's no fear of it now.'
+
+In the morning, the day on the morrow, Lawrence said to Carrol--
+
+'Give me my share of money, and I'll go on a journey, until I have a
+look round the country.'
+
+Carrol gave him the money, and he went walking. He went on until he
+came to a large town. He went into the house of a baker to get bread.
+The baker began talking to him, and asked him how far he was going.
+
+'I am going looking for something that will put fear on me,' said
+Lawrence.
+
+'Have you much money?' said the baker.
+
+'I have a half-hundred pounds,' said Lawrence.
+
+'I'll bet another half-hundred with you that there will be fear on you
+if you go to the place that I'll bid you,' says the baker.
+
+'I'll take your bet,' said Lawrence, 'if only the place is not too far
+away from me.'
+
+'It's not a mile from the place where you're standing,' said the
+baker; 'wait here till the night comes, and then go to the graveyard,
+and as a sign that you were in it, bring me the goblet that is upon
+the altar of the old church (_cill_) that is in the graveyard.'
+
+When the baker made the bet he was certain that he would win, for
+there was a ghost in the churchyard, and nobody went into it for forty
+years before that whom he did not kill.
+
+When the darkness of the night came, Lawrence put on his sword and
+went to the burying-ground. He came to the door of the churchyard and
+struck it with his sword. The door opened, and there came out a great
+black ram, and two horns on him as long as flails. Lawrence gave him a
+blow, and he went out of sight, leaving him up to the two ankles in
+blood. Lawrence went into the old church, got the goblet, came back to
+the baker's house, gave him the goblet, and got the bet. Then the
+baker asked him did he see anything in the churchyard.
+
+'I saw a big black ram with long horns on him,' said Lawrence, 'and I
+gave him a blow which drew as much blood out of him as would swim a
+boat; sure he must be dead by this time.'
+
+In the morning, the day on the morrow, the baker and a lot of people
+went to the graveyard and they saw the blood of the black ram at the
+door. They went to the priest and told him that the black ram was
+banished out of the churchyard. The priest did not believe them,
+because the churchyard was shut up forty years before that on account
+of the ghost that was in it, and neither priest nor friar could banish
+him. The priest came with them to the door of the churchyard, and when
+he saw the blood he took courage and sent for Lawrence, and heard the
+story from his own mouth. Then he sent for his blessing-materials, and
+desired the people to come in till he read mass for them. The priest
+went in, and Lawrence and the people after him, and he read mass
+without the big black ram coming as he used to do. The priest was
+greatly rejoiced, and gave Lawrence another fifty pounds.
+
+On the morning of the next day Lawrence went on his way. He travelled
+the whole day without seeing a house. About the hour of midnight he
+came to a great lonely valley, and he saw a large gathering of people
+looking at two men hurling. Lawrence stood looking at them, as there
+was a bright light from the moon. It was the good people that were in
+it, and it was not long until one of them struck a blow on the ball
+and sent it into Lawrence's breast. He put his hand in after the ball
+to draw it out, and what was there in it but the head of a man. When
+Lawrence got a hold of it, it began screeching, and at last it asked
+Lawrence--
+
+'Are you not afraid?'
+
+'Indeed I am not,' said Lawrence, and no sooner was the word spoken
+than both head and people disappeared, and he was left in the glen
+alone by himself.
+
+He journeyed until he came to another town, and when he ate and drank
+enough, he went out on the road, and was walking until he came to a
+great house on the side of the road. As the night was closing in, he
+went in to try if he could get lodging. There was a young man at the
+door who said to him--
+
+'How far are you going, or what are you in search of?'
+
+'I do not know how far I am going, but I am in search of something
+that will put fear on me,' said Lawrence.
+
+'You have not far to go, then,' said the young man; 'if you stop in
+that big house on the other side of the road there will be fear put on
+you before morning, and I'll give you twenty pounds into the bargain.'
+
+'I'll stop in it,' said Lawrence.
+
+The young man went with him, opened the door, and brought him into a
+large room in the bottom of the house, and said to him, 'Put down fire
+for yourself and I'll send you plenty to eat and drink.' He put down a
+fire for himself, and there came a girl to him and brought him
+everything that he wanted.
+
+He went on very well, until the hour of midnight came, and then he
+heard a great sound over his head, and it was not long until a
+stallion and a bull came in and commenced to fight. Lawrence never put
+to them nor from them, and when they were tired fighting they went
+out. Lawrence went to sleep, and he never awoke until the young man
+came in in the morning, and he was surprised when he saw Lawrence
+alive. He asked him had he seen anything.
+
+'I saw a stallion and a bull fighting hard for about two hours,' said
+Lawrence.
+
+'And weren't you afraid?' said the young man.
+
+'I was not,' says Lawrence.
+
+'If you wait to-night again, I'll give you another twenty pounds,'
+says the young man.
+
+'I'll wait, and welcome,' says Lawrence.
+
+The second night, about ten o'clock, Lawrence was going to sleep, when
+two black rams came in and began fighting hard. Lawrence neither put
+to them nor from them, and when twelve o'clock struck they went out.
+The young man came in the morning and asked him did he see anything
+last night.
+
+'I saw two black rams fighting,' said Lawrence.
+
+'Were you afraid at all?' said the young man.
+
+'I was not,' said Lawrence.
+
+'Wait to-night, and I'll give you another twenty pounds,' says the
+young man.
+
+'All right,' says Lawrence.
+
+The third night he was falling asleep, when there came in a gray old
+man and said to him--
+
+'You are the best hero in Ireland; I died twenty years ago, and all
+that time I have been in search of a man like you. Come with me now
+till I show you your riches; I told you when you were watching your
+mother's grave that there was great riches waiting for you.'
+
+He took Lawrence to a chamber under ground, and showed him a large pot
+filled with gold, and said to him--
+
+'You will have all that if you give twenty pounds to Mary Kerrigan the
+widow, and get her forgiveness for me for a wrong I did her. Then buy
+this house, marry my daughter, and you will be happy and rich as long
+as you live.'
+
+The next morning the young man came to Lawrence and asked him did he
+see anything last night.
+
+'I did,' said Lawrence, 'and it's certain that there will be a ghost
+always in it, but nothing in the world would frighten me; I'll buy the
+house and the land round it, if you like.'
+
+'I'll ask no price for the house, but I won't part with the land under
+a thousand pounds, and I'm sure you haven't that much.'
+
+'I have more than would buy all the land and all the herds you have,'
+said Lawrence.
+
+When the young man heard that Lawrence was so rich, he invited him to
+come to dinner. Lawrence went with him, and when the dead man's
+daughter saw him she fell in love with him.
+
+Lawrence went to the house of Mary Kerrigan and gave her twenty
+pounds, and got her forgiveness for the dead man. Then he married the
+young man's sister and spent a happy life. He died as he lived,
+without there being fear on him.
+
+
+
+
+CATS
+
+
+
+
+SEANCHAN THE BARD AND THE KING OF THE CATS
+
+BY LADY WILDE
+
+
+When Seanchan, the renowned Bard, was made _Ard-File_ or Chief Poet of
+Ireland, Guaire, the king of Connaught, to do him honour, made a great
+feast for him and the whole Bardic Association. And all the professors
+and learned men went to the king's house, the great ollaves of poetry
+and history and music, and of the arts and sciences; and the learned,
+aged females, Grug and Grag and Grangait; and all the chief poets and
+poetesses of Ireland, an amazing number. But Guaire the king
+entertained them all splendidly, so that the ancient pathway to his
+palace is still called 'The Road of the Dishes.'
+
+And each day he asked, 'How fares it with my noble guests?' But they
+were all discontented, and wanted things he could not get for them. So
+he was very sorrowful, and prayed to God to be delivered from 'the
+learned men and women, a vexatious class.'
+
+Still the feast went on for three days and three nights. And they
+drank and made merry. And the whole Bardic Association entertained the
+nobles with the choicest music and professional accomplishments.
+
+But Seanchan sulked and would neither eat nor drink, for he was
+jealous of the nobles of Connaught. And when he saw how much they
+consumed of the best meats and wine, he declared he would taste no
+food till they and their servants were all sent away out of the
+house.
+
+And when Guaire asked him again, 'How fares my noble guest, and this
+great and excellent people?' Seanchan answered, 'I have never had
+worse days, nor worse nights, nor worse dinners in my life.' And he
+ate nothing for three whole days.
+
+Then the king was sorely grieved that the whole Bardic Association
+should be feasting and drinking while Seanchan, the chief poet of
+Erin, was fasting and weak. So he sent his favourite serving-man, a
+person of mild manners and cleanliness, to offer special dishes to the
+bard.
+
+'Take them away,' said Seanchan; 'I'll have none of them.'
+
+'And why, O Royal Bard?' asked the servitor.
+
+'Because thou art an uncomely youth,' answered Seanchan. 'Thy
+grandfather was chip-nailed--I have seen him; I shall eat no food from
+thy hands.'
+
+Then the king called a beautiful maiden to him, his foster-daughter,
+and said, 'Lady, bring thou this wheaten cake and this dish of salmon
+to the illustrious poet, and serve him thyself.' So the maiden went.
+
+But when Seanchan saw her he asked: 'Who sent thee hither, and why
+hast thou brought me food?'
+
+'My lord the king sent me, O Royal Bard,' she answered, 'because I am
+comely to look upon, and he bade me serve thee with food myself.'
+
+'Take it away,' said Seanchan, 'thou art an unseemly girl, I know of
+none more ugly. I have seen thy grandmother; she sat on a wall one day
+and pointed out the way with her hand to some travelling lepers. How
+could I touch thy food?' So the maiden went away in sorrow.
+
+And then Guaire the king was indeed angry, and he exclaimed, 'My
+malediction on the mouth that uttered that! May the kiss of a leper
+be on Seanchan's lips before he dies!'
+
+Now there was a young serving-girl there, and she said to Seanchan,
+'There is a hen's egg in the place, my lord, may I bring it to thee, O
+Chief Bard?'
+
+'It will suffice,' said Seanchan; 'bring it that I may eat.'
+
+But when she went to look for it, behold the egg was gone.
+
+'Thou hast eaten it,' said the bard, in wrath.
+
+'Not so, my lord,' she answered; 'but the mice, the nimble race, have
+carried it away.'
+
+'Then I will satirise them in a poem,' said Seanchan; and forthwith he
+chanted so bitter a satire against them that ten mice fell dead at
+once in his presence.
+
+''Tis well,' said Seanchan; 'but the cat is the one most to blame, for
+it was her duty to suppress the mice. Therefore I shall satirise the
+tribe of the cats, and their chief lord, Irusan, son of Arusan; for I
+know where he lives with his wife Spit-fire, and his daughter
+Sharp-tooth, with her brothers the Purrer and the Growler. But I shall
+begin with Irusan himself, for he is king, and answerable for all the
+cats.'
+
+And he said: 'Irusan, monster of claws, who strikes at the mouse but
+lets it go; weakest of cats. The otter did well who bit off the tips
+of thy progenitor's ears, so that every cat since is jagged-eared. Let
+thy tail hang down; it is right, for the mouse jeers at thee.'
+
+Now Irusan heard these words in his cave, and he said to his daughter
+Sharp-tooth: 'Seanchan has satirised me, but I will be avenged.'
+
+'Nay, father,' she said, 'bring him here alive that we may all take
+our revenge.'
+
+'I shall go then and bring him,' said Irusan; 'so send thy brothers
+after me.
+
+Now when it was told to Seanchan that the King of the Cats was on his
+way to come and kill him, he was timorous, and besought Guaire and all
+the nobles to stand by and protect him. And before long a vibrating,
+impressive, impetuous sound was heard, like a raging tempest of fire
+in full blaze. And when the cat appeared he seemed to them of the size
+of a bullock; and this was his appearance--rapacious, panting,
+jagged-eared, snub-nosed, sharp-toothed, nimble, angry, vindictive,
+glare-eyed, terrible, sharp-clawed. Such was his similitude. But he
+passed on amongst them, not minding till he came to Seanchan; and him
+he seized by the arm and jerked him up on his back, and made off the
+way he came before any one could touch him; for he had no other object
+in view but to get hold of the poet.
+
+Now Seanchan, being in evil plight, had recourse to flattery. 'O
+Irusan,' he exclaimed, 'how truly splendid thou art: such running,
+such leaps, such strength, and such agility! But what evil have I
+done, O Irusan, son of Arusan? spare me, I entreat. I invoke the
+saints between thee and me, O great King of the Cats.'
+
+But not a bit did the cat let go his hold for all this fine talk, but
+went straight on to Clonmacnoise, where there was a forge; and St.
+Kieran happened to be there standing at the door.
+
+'What!' exclaimed the saint; 'is that the Chief Bard of Erin on the
+back of a cat? Has Guaire's hospitality ended in this?' And he ran for
+a red-hot bar of iron that was in the furnace, and struck the cat on
+the side with it, so that the iron passed through him, and he fell
+down lifeless.
+
+'Now my curse on the hand that gave that blow!' said the bard, when he
+got upon his feet.
+
+'And wherefore?' asked St. Kieran.
+
+'Because,' answered Seanchan, 'I would rather Irusan had killed me,
+and eaten me every bit, that so I might bring disgrace on Guaire for
+the bad food he gave me; for it was all owing to his wretched dinners
+that I got into this plight.'
+
+And when all the other kings heard of Seanchan's misfortunes, they
+sent to beg he would visit their courts. But he would have neither
+kiss nor welcome from them, and went on his way to the bardic mansion,
+where the best of good living was always to be had. And ever after the
+kings were afraid to offend Seanchan.
+
+So as long as he lived he had the chief place at the feast, and all
+the nobles there were made to sit below him, and Seanchan was content.
+And in time he and Guaire were reconciled; and Seanchan and all the
+ollaves, and the whole Bardic Association, were feasted by the king
+for thirty days in noble style, and had the choicest of viands and
+the best of French wines to drink, served in goblets of silver. And in
+return for his splendid hospitality the Bardic Association decreed
+unanimously a vote of thanks to the king. And they praised him in
+poems as 'Guaire the Generous,' by which name he was ever after known
+in history, for the words of the poet are immortal.
+
+
+
+
+OWNEY AND OWNEY-NA-PEAK
+
+BY GERALD GRIFFEN
+
+
+When Ireland had kings of her own--when there was no such thing as a
+coat made of red cloth in the country--when there was plenty in men's
+houses, and peace and quietness at men's doors (and that is a long
+time since)--there lived, in a village not far from the great city of
+Lumneach,[7] two young men, cousins: one of them named Owney, a smart,
+kind-hearted, handsome youth, with limb of a delicate form, and a very
+good understanding. His cousin's name was Owney too, and the
+neighbours christened him Owney-na-peak (Owney of the nose), on
+account of a long nose he had got--a thing so out of all proportion,
+that after looking at one side of his face, it was a smart morning's
+walk to get round the nose and take a view of the other (at least, so
+the people used to say). He was a stout, able-bodied fellow, as stupid
+as a beaten hound, and he was, moreover, a cruel tyrant to his young
+cousin, with whom he lived in a kind of partnership.
+
+[Footnote 7: The present Limerick.]
+
+Both of them were of a humble station. They were
+smiths--white-smiths--and they got a good deal of business to do from
+the lords of the court, and the knights, and all the grand people of
+the city. But one day young Owney was in town, he saw a great
+procession of lords, and ladies, and generals, and great people, among
+whom was the king's daughter of the court--and surely it is not
+possible for the young rose itself to be so beautiful as she was. His
+heart fainted at her sight, and he went home desperately in love, and
+not at all disposed to business.
+
+Money, he was told, was the surest way of getting acquainted with the
+king, and so he began saving until he had put together a few
+_hogs_,[8] but Owney-na-peak, finding where he had hid them, seized on
+the whole, as he used to do on all young Owney's earnings.
+
+[Footnote 8: A _hog_, 1s. 1d.]
+
+One evening young Owney's mother found herself about to die, so she
+called her son to her bedside and said to him: 'You have been a most
+dutiful good son, and 'tis proper you should be rewarded for it. Take
+this china cup to the fair,--there is a fairy gift upon it,--use your
+own wit, look about you, and let the highest bidder have it--and so,
+my white-headed boy,[9] God bless you!'
+
+[Footnote 9: White-haired boy, a curious Irish phrase for the
+favourite child.]
+
+The young man drew the little bedcurtain down over his dead mother,
+and in a few days after, with a heavy heart, he took his china cup,
+and set off to the fair of Garryowen.
+
+The place was merry enough. The field that is called Gallows Green now
+was covered with tents. There was plenty of wine (poteen not being
+known in these days, let alone _parliament_), a great many handsome
+girls, and 'tis unknown all the _keoh_ that was with the boys and
+themselves. Poor Owney walked all the day through the fair, wishing to
+try his luck, but ashamed to offer his china cup among all the fine
+things that were there for sale. Evening was drawing on at last, and
+he was thinking of going home, when a strange man tapped him on the
+shoulder, and said: 'My good youth, I have been marking you through
+the fair the whole day, going about with that cup in your hand,
+speaking to nobody, and looking as if you would be wanting something
+or another.'
+
+'I'm for selling it,' said Owney.
+
+'What is it you're for selling, you say?' said a second man, coming
+up, and looking at the cup.
+
+'Why then,' said the first man, 'and what's that to you, for a prying
+meddler? what do you want to know what it is he's for selling?'
+
+'Bad manners to you (and where's the use of my wishing you what you
+have already?), haven't I a right to ask the price of what's in the
+fair?'
+
+'E'then, the knowledge o' the price is all you'll have for it,' says
+the first. 'Here, my lad, is a golden piece for your cup.'
+
+'That cup shall never hold drink or diet in your house, please
+Heaven,' says the second; 'here's two gold pieces for the cup, lad.'
+
+'Why then, see this now--if I was forced to fill it to the rim with
+gold before I could call it mine, you shall never hold that cup
+between your fingers. Here, boy, do you mind me, give me that, once
+for all, and here's ten gold pieces for it, and say no more.'
+
+'Ten gold pieces for a china cup!' said a great lord of the court, who
+just rode up at that minute, 'it must surely be a valuable article.
+Here, boy, here are twenty pieces for it, and give it to my servant.'
+
+'Give it to mine,' cried another lord of the party, 'and here's my
+purse, where you will find ten more. And if any man offers another
+fraction for it to outbid that, I'll spit him on my sword like a
+snipe.'
+
+'I outbid him,' said a fair young lady in a veil, by his side,
+flinging twenty golden pieces more on the ground.
+
+There was no voice to outbid the lady, and young Owney, kneeling, gave
+the cup into her hands.
+
+'Fifty gold pieces for a china cup,' said Owney to himself, as he
+plodded on home, 'that was not worth two! Ah! mother, you knew that
+vanity had an open hand.'
+
+But as he drew near home he determined to hide his money somewhere,
+knowing, as he well did, that his cousin would not leave him a single
+cross to bless himself with. So he dug a little pit, and buried all
+but two pieces, which he brought to the house. His cousin, knowing the
+business on which he had gone, laughed heartily when he saw him enter,
+and asked him what luck he had got with his punch-bowl.
+
+'Not so bad, neither,' says Owney. 'Two pieces of gold is not a bad
+price for an article of old china.'
+
+'Two gold pieces, Owney, honey! Erra, let us see 'em, maybe you
+would?' He took the cash from Owney's hand, and after opening his eyes
+in great astonishment at the sight of so much money, he put them into
+his pocket.
+
+'Well, Owney, I'll keep them safe for you, in my pocket within. But
+tell us, maybe you would, how come you to get such a _mort_ o' money
+for an old cup o' painted chaney, that wasn't worth, maybe, a fi'penny
+bit?'
+
+'To get into the heart o' the fair, then, free and easy, and to look
+about me, and to cry old china, and the first man that _come_ up, he
+to ask me, what is it I'd be asking for the cup, and I to say out
+bold: "A hundred pieces of gold," and he to laugh hearty, and we to
+huxter together till he beat me down to two, and there's the whole way
+of it all.'
+
+Owney-na-peak made as if he took no note of this, but next morning
+early he took an old china saucer himself had in his cupboard, and off
+he set, without saying a word to anybody, to the fair. You may easily
+imagine that it created no small surprise in the place when they heard
+a great big fellow with a china saucer in his hand crying out: 'A raal
+_chaney_ saucer going for a hundred pieces of goold! raal
+chaney--who'll be buying?'
+
+'Erra, what's that you're saying, you great gomeril?' says a man,
+coming up to him, and looking first at the saucer and then in his
+face. 'Is it thinking anybody would go make a _muthaun_ of himself to
+give the like for that saucer?' But Owney-na-peak had no answer to
+make, only to cry out: 'Raal chaney! one hundred pieces of goold!'
+
+A crowd soon collected about him, and finding he would give no account
+of himself, they all fell upon him, beat him within an inch of his
+life, and after having satisfied themselves upon him, they went their
+way laughing and shouting. Towards sunset he got up, and crawled home
+as well as he could, without cup or money. As soon as Owney saw him,
+he helped him into the forge, looking very mournful, although, if the
+truth must be told, it was to revenge himself for former good deeds of
+his cousin that he set him about this foolish business.
+
+'Come here, Owney, eroo,' said his cousin, after he had fastened the
+forge door and heated two irons in the fire. 'You child of mischief!'
+said he, when he had caught him, 'you shall never see the fruits of
+your roguery again, for I will put out your eyes.' And so saying he
+snatched one of the red-hot irons from the fire.
+
+It was all in vain for poor Owney to throw himself on his knees, and
+ask mercy, and beg and implore forgiveness; he was weak, and
+Owney-na-peak was strong; he held him fast, and burned out both his
+eyes. Then taking him, while he was yet fainting from the pain, upon
+his back, he carried him off to the bleak hill of Knockpatrick,[10] a
+great distance, and there laid him under a tombstone, and went his
+ways. In a little time after, Owney came to himself.
+
+[Footnote 10: A hill in the west of the County of Limerick, on the
+summit of which are the ruins of an old church, with a burying-ground
+still in use. The situation is exceedingly singular and bleak.]
+
+'O sweet light of day! what is to become of me now?' thought the poor
+lad, as he lay on his back under the tomb. 'Is this to be the fruit of
+that unhappy present? Must I be dark for ever and ever? and am I never
+more to look upon that sweet countenance, that even in my blindness is
+not entirely shut out from me?' He would have said a great deal more
+in this way, and perhaps more pathetic still, but just then he heard a
+great mewing, as if all the cats in the world were coming up the hill
+together in one faction. He gathered himself up, and drew back under
+the stone, and remained quite still, expecting what would come next.
+In a very short time he heard all the cats purring and mewing about
+the yard, whisking over the tombstones, and playing all sorts of
+pranks among the graves. He felt the tails of one or two brush his
+nose; and well for him it was that they did not discover him there,
+as he afterwards found. At last--
+
+'Silence!' said one of the cats, and they were all as mute as so many
+mice in an instant. 'Now, all you cats of this great county, small and
+large, gray, red, yellow, black, brown, mottled, and white, attend to
+what I'm going to tell you in the name of your king and the master of
+all the cats. The sun is down, and the moon is up, and the night is
+silent, and no mortal hears us, and I may tell you a secret. You know
+the king of Munster's daughter?'
+
+'O yes, to be sure, and why wouldn't we? Go on with your story,' said
+all the cats together.
+
+'I have heard of her for one,' said a little dirty-faced black cat,
+speaking after they had all done, 'for I'm the cat that sits upon the
+hob of Owney and Owney-na-peak, the white-smiths, and I know many's
+the time young Owney does be talking of her, when he sits by the fire
+alone, rubbing me down and planning how he can get into her father's
+court.'
+
+'Whist, you natural!' says the cat that was making the speech, 'what
+do you think we care for your Owney, or Owney-na-peak?'
+
+'Murther, murther!' thinks Owney to himself, 'did anybody ever hear
+the aiqual of this?'
+
+'Well, gentlemen,' says the cat again, 'what I have to say is this.
+The king was last week struck with blindness, and you all know well,
+how and by what means any blindness may be cured. You know there is no
+disorder that can ail mortal frame, that may not be removed by praying
+a round at the well of Barrygowen[11] yonder, and the king's disorder
+is such, that no other cure whatever can be had for it. Now, beware,
+don't let the secret pass one o' yer lips, for there's a
+great-grandson of Simon Magus, that is coming down to try his skill,
+and he it is that must use the water and marry the princess, who is to
+be given to any one so fortunate as to heal her father's eyes; and on
+that day, gentlemen, we are all promised a feast of the fattest mice
+that ever walked the ground.' This speech was wonderfully applauded by
+all the cats, and presently after, the whole crew scampered off,
+jumping, and mewing, and purring, down the hill.
+
+[Footnote 11: The practice of praying rounds, with the view of healing
+diseases, at Barrygowen well, in the County of Limerick, is still
+continued, notwithstanding the exertions of the neighbouring Catholic
+priesthood, which have diminished, but not abolished it.]
+
+Owney, being sensible that they were all gone, came from his
+hiding-place, and knowing the road to Barrygowen well, he set off, and
+groped his way out, and shortly knew, by the rolling of the waves,[12]
+coming in from the point of Foynes, that he was near the place. He
+got to the well, and making a round like a good Christian, rubbed his
+eyes with the well-water, and looking up, saw day dawning in the east.
+Giving thanks, he jumped up on his feet, and you may say that
+Owney-na-peak was much astonished on opening the door of the forge to
+find him there, his eyes as well or better than ever, and his face as
+merry as a dance.
+
+[Footnote 12: Of the Shannon.]
+
+'Well, cousin,' said Owney, smiling, 'you have done me the greatest
+service that one man can do another; you put me in the way of getting
+two pieces of gold,' said he, showing two he had taken from his
+hiding-place. 'If you could only bear the pain of suffering me just to
+put out your eyes, and lay you in the same place as you laid me, who
+knows what luck you'd have?'
+
+'No, there's no occasion for putting out eyes at all, but could not
+you lay me, just as I am, to-night, in that place, and let me try my
+own fortune, if it be a thing you tell thruth; and what else could
+put the eyes in your head, after I burning them out with the irons?'
+
+'You'll know all that in time,' says Owney, stopping him in his
+speech, for just at that minute, casting his eye towards the hob, he
+saw the cat sitting upon it, and looking very hard at him. So he made
+a sign to Owney-na-peak to be silent, or talk of something else; at
+which the cat turned away her eyes, and began washing her face, quite
+simple, with her two paws, looking now and then sideways into Owney's
+face, just like a Christian. By and by, when she had walked out of the
+forge, he shut the door after her, and finished what he was going to
+say, which made Owney-na-peak still more anxious than before to be
+placed under the tombstone. Owney agreed to it very readily, and just
+as they were done speaking, cast a glance towards the forge window,
+where he saw the imp of a cat, just with her nose and one eye peeping
+in through a broken pane. He said nothing, however, but prepared to
+carry his cousin to the place; where, towards nightfall, he laid him
+as he had been laid himself, snug under the tombstone, and went his
+way down the hill, resting in Shanagolden that night, to see what
+would come of it in the morning.
+
+Owney-na-peak had not been more than two or three hours or so lying
+down, when he heard the very same noises coming up the hill, that had
+puzzled Owney the night before. Seeing the cats enter the churchyard,
+he began to grow very uneasy, and strove to hide himself as well as he
+could, which was tolerably well too, all being covered by the
+tombstone excepting part of the nose, which was so long that he could
+not get it to fit by any means. You may say to yourself, that he was
+not a little surprised, when he saw the cats all assemble like a
+congregation going to hear mass, some sitting, some walking about, and
+asking one another after the kittens and the like, and more of them
+stretching themselves upon the tombstones, and waiting the speech of
+their commander.
+
+Silence was proclaimed at length, and he spoke: 'Now all you cats of
+this great county, small and large, gray, red, yellow, black, brown,
+mottled, or white, attend--'
+
+'Stay! stay!' said a little cat with a dirty face, that just then came
+running into the yard. 'Be silent, for there are mortal ears listening
+to what you say. I have run hard and fast to say that your words were
+overheard last night. I am the cat that sits upon the hob of Owney and
+Owney-na-peak, and I saw a bottle of the water of Barrygowen hanging
+up over the chimbley this morning in their house.'
+
+In an instant all the cats began screaming, and mewing, and flying, as
+if they were mad, about the yard, searching every corner, and peeping
+under every tombstone. Poor Owneyna-peak endeavoured as well as he
+could to hide himself from them, and began to thump his breast and
+cross himself, but it was all in vain, for one of the cats saw the
+long nose peeping from under the stone, and in a minute they dragged
+him, roaring and bawling, into the very middle of the churchyard,
+where they flew upon him all together, and made _smithereens_ of him,
+from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet.
+
+The next morning very early, young Owney came to the churchyard, to
+see what had become of his cousin. He called over and over again upon
+his name, but there was no answer given. At last, entering the place
+of tombs, he found his limbs scattered over the earth.
+
+'So that is the way with you, is it?' said he, clasping his hands, and
+looking down on the bloody fragments; 'why then, though you were no
+great things in the way of kindness to me when your bones were
+together, that isn't the reason why I'd be glad to see them torn
+asunder this morning early.' So gathering up all the pieces that he
+could find, he put them into a bag he had with him, and away with him
+to the well of Barrygowen, where he lost no time in making a round,
+and throwing them in, all in a heap. In an instant, he saw
+Owney-na-peak as well as ever, scrambling out of the well, and helping
+him to get up, he asked him how he felt himself.
+
+'Oh! is it how I'd feel myself you'd want to know?' said the other;
+'easy and I'll tell you. Take that for a specimen!' giving him at the
+same time a blow on the head, which you may say wasn't long in laying
+Owney sprawling on the ground. Then without giving him a minute's time
+to recover, he thrust him into the very bag from which he had been
+just shaken himself, resolving within himself to drown him in the
+Shannon at once, and put an end to him for ever.
+
+Growing weary by the way, he stopped at a shebeen house _over-right_
+Robertstown Castle, to refresh himself with a _morning_, before he'd
+go any farther. Poor Owney did not know what to do when he came to
+himself, if it might be rightly called coming to himself, and the
+great bag tied up about him. His wicked cousin shot him down behind
+the door in the kitchen, and telling him he'd have his life surely if
+he stirred, he walked in to take something that's good in the little
+parlour.
+
+Owney could not for the life of him avoid cutting a hole in the bag,
+to have a peep about the kitchen, and see whether he had no means of
+escape. He could see only one person, a simple-looking man, who was
+counting his beads in the chimney-corner, and now and then striking
+his breast, and looking up as if he was praying greatly.
+
+'Lord,' says he, 'only give me death, death, and a favourable
+judgment! I haven't anybody now to look after, nor anybody to look
+after me. What's a few tinpennies to save a man from want? Only a
+quiet grave is all I ask.'
+
+'Murther, murther!' says Owney to himself, 'here's a man wants death
+and can't have it, and here am I going to have it, and, in troth, I
+don't want it at all, see.' So, after thinking a little what he had
+best do, he began to sing out very merrily, but lowering his voice,
+for fear he should be heard in the next room:
+
+    'To him that tied me here,
+      Be thanks and praises given!
+    I'll bless him night and day,
+      For packing me to heaven.
+    Of all the roads you'll name,
+      He surely will not lag,
+    Who takes his way to heaven
+      By travelling in a bag!'
+
+'To heaven, _ershishin_?'[13] said the man in the chimney-corner,
+opening his mouth and his eyes; 'why then, you'd be doing a Christian
+turn, if you'd take a neighbour with you, that's tired of this bad and
+villainous world.'
+
+[Footnote 13: Does he say?]
+
+'You're a fool, you're a fool!' said Owney.
+
+'I know I am, at least so the neighbours always tell me--but what
+hurt? Maybe I have a Christian soul as well as another; and fool or no
+fool, in a bag or out of a bag, I'd be glad and happy to go the same
+road it is you are talking of.'
+
+After seeming to make a great favour of it, in order to allure him the
+more to the bargain, Owney agreed to put him into the bag instead of
+himself; and cautioning him against saying a word, he was just going
+to tie him, when he was touched with a little remorse for going to
+have the innocent man's life taken: and seeing a slip of a pig that
+was killed the day before, in a corner, hanging up, the thought struck
+him that it would do just as well to put it in the bag in their
+place. No sooner said than done, to the great surprise of the natural,
+he popped the pig into the bag and tied it up.
+
+'Now,' says he, 'my good friend, go home, say nothing, but bless the
+name in heaven for saving your life; and you were as near losing it
+this morning as ever man was that didn't know.'
+
+They left the house together. Presently out comes Owney-na-peak, very
+hearty; and being so, he was not able to perceive the difference in
+the contents of the bag, but hoisting it upon his back, he sallied out
+of the house. Before he had gone far, he came to the rock of Foynes,
+from the top of which he flung his burden into the salt waters.
+
+Away he went home, and knocked at the door of the forge, which was
+opened to him by Owney. You may fancy him to yourself crossing and
+blessing himself over and over again, when he saw, as he thought, the
+ghost standing before him. But Owney looked very merry, and told him
+not to be afraid. 'You did many is the good turn in your life,' says
+he, 'but the equal of this never.' So he up and told him that he found
+the finest place in the world at the bottom of the waters, and plenty
+of money. 'See these four pieces for a specimen,' showing him some he
+had taken from his own hiding hole: 'what do you think of that for a
+story?'
+
+'Why then that it's a droll one, no less; sorrow bit av I wouldn't
+have a mind to try my luck in the same way; how did you come home here
+before me that took the straight road, and didn't stop for so much as
+my _gusthah_[14] since I left Knockpatrick?'
+
+[Footnote 14: Literally--_walk in_.]
+
+'Oh, there's a short cut under the waters,' said Owney. 'Mind and only
+be civil while you're in Thiernaoge,[15] and you'll make a sight o'
+money.'
+
+[Footnote 15: The abode of the fairies.]
+
+Well became Owney, he thrust his cousin into the bag, tied it about
+him, and putting it into a car that was returning after leaving a load
+of oats at a corn-store in the city, it was not long before he was at
+Foynes again. Here he dismounted, and going to the rock, he was, I am
+afraid, half inclined to start his burden into the wide water, when he
+saw a small skiff making towards the point. He hailed her, and learned
+that she was about to board a great vessel from foreign parts, that
+was sailing out of the river. So he went with his bag on board, and
+making his bargain with the captain of the ship, he left Owney-na-peak
+along with the crew, and never was troubled with him after, from that
+day to this.
+
+As he was passing by Barrygowen well, he filled a bottle with the
+water; and going home, he bought a fine suit of clothes with the rest
+of the money he had buried, and away he set off in the morning to the
+city of Lumneach. He walked through the town, admiring everything he
+saw, until he came before the palace of the king. Over the gates of
+this he saw a number of spikes, with a head of a man stuck upon each,
+grinning in the sunshine.
+
+Not at all daunted, he knocked very boldly at the gate, which was
+opened by one of the guards of the palace. 'Well! who are you,
+friend?'
+
+'I am a great doctor that's come from foreign parts to cure the king's
+eyesight. Lead me to his presence this minute.'
+
+'Fair and softly,' said the soldier. 'Do you see all those heads that
+are stuck up there? Yours is very likely to be keeping company by
+them, if you are so foolish as to come inside these walls. They are
+the heads of all the doctors in the land who came before you; and
+that's what makes the town so fine and healthy this time past, praised
+be Heaven for the same!'
+
+'Don't be talking, you great gomeril,' says Owney; 'only bring me to
+the king at once.'
+
+He was brought before the king. After being warned of his fate if he
+should fail to do all that he undertook, the place was made clear of
+all but a few guards, and Owney was informed once more, that if he
+should restore the king's eyes, he should wed with the princess, and
+have the crown after her father's death. This put him in great
+spirits, and after making a round upon his bare knees about the
+bottle, he took a little of the water, and rubbed it into the king's
+eyes. In a minute he jumped up from his throne and looked about him as
+well as ever. He ordered Owney to be dressed out like a king's son,
+and sent word to his daughter that she should receive him that instant
+for her husband.
+
+You may say to yourself that the princess, glad as she was of her
+father's recovery, did not like this message. Small blame to her,
+when it is considered that she never set her eyes upon the man
+himself. However, her mind was changed wonderfully when he was brought
+before her, covered with gold and diamonds, and all sorts of grand
+things. Wishing, however, to know whether he had as good a wit as he
+had a person, she told him that he should give her, on the next
+morning, an answer to two questions, otherwise she would not hold him
+worthy of her hand. Owney bowed, and she put the questions as follows:
+
+'What is that which is the sweetest thing in the world?'
+
+'What are the three most beautiful objects in the creation?'
+
+These were puzzling questions; but Owney having a small share of
+brains of his own, was not long in forming an opinion upon the matter.
+He was very impatient for the morning; but it came just as slow and
+regular as if he were not in the world. In a short time he was
+summoned to the courtyard, where all the nobles of the land assembled,
+with flags waving, and trumpets sounding, and all manner of glorious
+doings going on. The princess was placed on a throne of gold near her
+father, and there was a beautiful carpet spread for Owney to stand
+upon while he answered her questions. After the trumpets were
+silenced, she put the first, with a clear sweet voice, and he replied:
+
+'It's salt!' says he, very stout, out.
+
+There was a great applause at the answer; and the princess owned,
+smiling, that he had judged right.
+
+'But now,' said she, 'for the second. What are the three most
+beautiful things in the creation?'
+
+'Why,' answered the young man, 'here they are. A ship in full sail--a
+field of wheat in ear--and----'
+
+What the third most beautiful thing was, all the people didn't hear;
+but there was a great blushing and laughing among the ladies, and the
+princess smiled and nodded at him, quite pleased with his wit. Indeed,
+many said that the judges of the land themselves could not have
+answered better, had they been in Owney's place; nor could there be
+anywhere found a more likely or well-spoken young man. He was brought
+first to the king, who took him in his arms, and presented him to the
+princess. She could not help acknowledging to herself that his
+understanding was quite worthy of his handsome person. Orders being
+immediately given for the marriage to proceed, they were made one with
+all speed; and it is said, that before another year came round, the
+fair princess was one of the most beautiful objects in the creation.
+
+
+
+
+KINGS AND WARRIORS
+
+
+
+
+THE KNIGHTING OF CUCULAIN[16]
+
+BY STANDISH O'GRADY
+
+
+One night in the month of the fires of Bel, Cathvah, the Druid and
+star-gazer, was observing the heavens through his astrological
+instruments. Beside him was Cuculain, just then completing his
+sixteenth year. Since the exile of Fergus MacRoy, Cuculain had
+attached himself most to the Ard-Druid, and delighted to be along with
+him in his studies and observations. Suddenly the old man put aside
+his instruments and meditated a long time in silence.
+
+[Footnote 16: Cuculain was the great hero of legendary Ireland.]
+
+'Setanta,' said he at length, 'art thou yet sixteen years of age?'
+
+'No, father,' replied the boy.
+
+'It will then be difficult to persuade the king to knight thee and
+enrol thee among his knights,' said Cathvah. 'Yet this must be done
+to-morrow, for it has been revealed to me that he whom Concobar
+MacNessa shall present with arms to-morrow, will be renowned to the
+most distant ages, and to the ends of the earth. Thou shalt be
+presented with arms to-morrow, and after that thou mayest retire for a
+season among thy comrades, nor go out among the warriors until thy
+strength is mature.'
+
+The next day Cathvah procured the king's consent to the knighting of
+Cuculain. Now on the same morning, one of his grooms came to Concobar
+MacNessa and said: 'O chief of the Red Branch, thou knowest how no
+horse has eaten barley, or ever occupied the stall where stood the
+divine steed which, with another of mortal breed, in the days of
+Kimbay MacFiontann, was accustomed to bear forth to the battle the
+great war-queen, Macha Monga-Rue; but ever since that stall has been
+empty, and no mortal steed hath profaned the stall in which the
+deathless Lia Macha was wont to stand. Yet, O Concobar, as I passed
+into the great stables on the east side of the courtyard, wherein are
+the steeds of thy own ambus, and in which is that spot since held
+sacred, I saw in the empty stall a mare, gray almost to whiteness, and
+of a size and beauty such as I have never seen, who turned to look
+upon me as I entered the stable, having very gentle eyes, but such as
+terrified me, so that I let fall the vessel in which I was bearing
+curds for the steed of Konaul Clareena; and she approached me, and
+laid her head upon my shoulder, making a strange noise.'
+
+Now as the groom was thus speaking, Cowshra Mend Macha, a younger son
+of Concobar, came before the king, and said: 'Thou knowest, O my
+father, that house in which is preserved the chariot of Kimbay
+MacFiontann, wherein he and she, whose name I bear, the great queen
+that protects our nation, rode forth to the wars in the ancient days,
+and how it has been preserved ever since, and that it is under my care
+to keep bright and clean. Now this day at sunrise I approached the
+house, as is my custom, and approaching, I heard dire voices,
+clamorous and terrible, that came from within, and noises like the
+noise of battle, and shouts as of warriors in the agony of the
+conflict, that raise their voices with short intense cries as they ply
+their weapons, avoiding or inflicting death. Then I went back
+terrified, but there met me Minrowar, son of Gerkin, for he came but
+last night from Moharne, in the east, and he went to look at his own
+steeds; but together we opened the gate of the chariot-house, and the
+bronze of the chariot burned like glowing fire, and the voices cried
+out in acclaim, when we stood in the doorway, and the light streamed
+into the dark chamber. Doubtless, a great warrior will appear amongst
+the Red Branch, for men say that not for a hundred years have these
+voices been heard, and I know not for whom Macha sends these portents,
+if it be not for the son of Sualtam, though he is not yet of an age to
+bear arms.'
+
+Thus was Concobar prepared for the knighting of Cuculain.
+
+Then in the presence of his court, and his warriors, and the youths
+who were the comrades and companions of Cuculain, Concobar presented
+the young hero with his weapons of war, after he had taken the vows of
+the Red Branch, and having also bound himself by certain gaesa.[17]
+But Cuculain looked narrowly upon the weapons, and he struck the
+spears together and clashed the sword upon the shield, and he brake
+the spears in pieces, and the sword, and made chasms in the shield.
+
+[Footnote 17: Curious vows taken by the ancient warriors. Hardly
+anything definite is known of them.--ED.]
+
+'These are not good weapons, O my King,' said the boy.
+
+Then the king presented him with others that were larger and stronger,
+and these too the boy brake into little pieces.
+
+'These are still worse, O son of Nessa,' said the boy, 'and it is not
+seemly, O chief of the Red Branch, that on the day that I am to
+receive my arms I should be made a laughing-stock before the Clanna
+Rury, being yet but a boy.'
+
+But Concobar MacNessa exulted exceedingly when he beheld the amazing
+strength and the waywardness of the boy, and beneath delicate brows
+his eyes glittered like gleaming swords as he glanced rapidly round on
+the crowd of martial men that surrounded him; but amongst them all he
+seemed himself a bright torch of valour and war, more pure and clear
+than polished steel. But he beckoned to one of his knights, who
+hastened away and returned, bringing Concobar's own shield and spears
+and the sword out of the Tayta Brac, where they were kept, an
+equipment in reserve. And Cuculain shook them and bent them, and
+clashed them together, but they held firm.
+
+'These are good arms, O son of Nessa,' said Cuculain.
+
+Then there were led forward a pair of noble steeds and a war-car, and
+the king conferred them on Cuculain. Then Cuculain sprang into the
+chariot, and standing with legs apart, he stamped from side to side,
+and shook and shook, and jolted the car until the axle brake and the
+car itself was broken in pieces.
+
+'This is not a good chariot, O my King,' said the boy.
+
+Then there were led forward three chariots, and all these he brake in
+succession.
+
+'These are not good chariots, O chief of the Red Branch,' said
+Cuculain. 'No brave warrior would enter the battle or fight from such
+rotten foothold.'
+
+Then the king called to his son Cowshra Mead Macha and bade him take
+Laeg, and harness to the war-chariot, of which he had the care, the
+wondrous gray steed, and that one which had been given him by Kelkar,
+the son of Uther, and to give Laeg a charioteering equipment, to be
+charioteers of Cuculain. For now it was apparent to all the nobles and
+to the king that a lion of war had appeared amongst them, and that it
+was for him Macha had sent these omens.
+
+Then Cuculain's heart leaped in his breast when he heard the thunder
+of the great war-car and the mad whinnying of the horses that smelt
+the battle afar. Soon he beheld them with his eyes, and the charioteer
+with the golden fillet of his office, erect in the car, struggling to
+subdue their fury. A gray, long-maned steed, whale-bellied,
+broad-chested, behind one yoke; a black, ugly-maned steed behind the
+other.
+
+Like a hawk swooping along the face of a cliff when the wind is high,
+or like the rush of the March wind over the plain, or like the
+fleetness of the stag roused from his lair by the hounds and covering
+his first field, was the rush of those steeds when they had broken
+through the restraint of the charioteer, as though they galloped over
+fiery flags, so that the earth shook and trembled with the velocity of
+their motion, and all the time the great car brayed and shrieked as
+the wheels of solid and glittering bronze went round, for there were
+demons that had their abode in that car.
+
+The charioteer restrained the steeds before the assembly, but
+nay-the-less a deep pur, like the pur of a tiger, proceeded from the
+axle. Then the whole assembly lifted up their voices and shouted for
+Cuculain, and he himself, Cuculain the son of Sualtam, sprang into his
+chariot, all armed, with a cry as of a warrior springing into his
+chariot in the battle, and he stood erect and brandished his spears,
+and the war-sprites of the Gaeil shouted along with them, to the
+Bocanahs and Bananahs and the Genitii Glindi, the wild people of the
+glens, and the demons of the air, roared around him, when first the
+great warrior of the Gaeil, his battle-arms in his hands, stood
+equipped for war in his chariot before all the warriors of his tribe,
+the kings of the Clanna Rury, and the people of Emain Macha.
+
+
+
+
+THE LITTLE WEAVER OF DULEEK GATE
+
+BY SAMUEL LOVER
+
+
+You see, there was a waiver lived, wanst upon a time, in Duleek here,
+hard by the gate, and a very honest, industherous man he was, by all
+accounts. He had a wife, and av coorse they had childhre, and small
+blame to them, and plenty of them, so that the poor little waiver was
+obleeged to work his fingers to the bone a'most to get them the bit
+and the sup; but he didn't begridge that, for he was an industherous
+craythur, as I said before, and it was up airly and down late with
+him, and the loom never standin' still. Well, it was one mornin' that
+his wife called to him, and he sitting very busy throwin' the shuttle;
+and says she, 'Come here,' says she, 'jewel, and ate your brekquest,
+now that it's ready.' But he never minded her, but wint an workin'. So
+in a minit or two more, says she, callin' out to him agin, 'Arrah,
+lave off slavin' yourself, my darlin', and ate your bit o' brekquest
+while it is hot.'
+
+'Lave me alone,' says he, and he dhruv the shuttle fasther nor before.
+
+Well, in a little time more, she goes over to him where he sot, and
+says she, coaxin' him like, 'Thady, dear,' says she, 'the stirabout
+will be stone cowld if you don't give over that weary work and come
+and ate it at wanst.'
+
+'I'm busy with a patthern here that is brakin' my heart,' says the
+waiver; 'and antil I complate it and masther it intirely I won't
+quit.'
+
+'Oh, think o' the iligant stirabout, that 'ill be spylte intirely.'
+
+'To the divil with the stirabout,' says he.
+
+'God forgive you,' says she, 'for cursin' your good brekquest.'
+
+'Ay, and you too,' says he.
+
+'Throth, you're as cross as two sticks this blessed morning, Thady,'
+says the poor wife; 'and it's a heavy handful I have of you when you
+are cruked in your temper; but stay there if you like, and let your
+stirabout grow cowld, and not a one o' me 'ill ax you agin;' and with
+that off she wint, and the waiver, sure enough, was mighty crabbed,
+and the more the wife spoke to him the worse he got, which, you know,
+is only nath'ral. Well, he left the loom at last, and wint over to the
+stirabout, and what would you think but whin he looked at it, it was
+as black as a crow; for, you see, it was in the hoighth o' summer, and
+the flies lit upon it to that degree that the stirabout was fairly
+covered with them.
+
+'Why, thin, bad luck to your impidence,' says the waiver; 'would no
+place sarve you but that? and is it spyling my brekquest yiz are, you
+dirty bastes?' And with that, bein' altogether cruked-tempered at the
+time, he lifted his hand, and he made one great slam at the dish o'
+stirabout, and killed no less than three score and tin flies at the
+one blow. It was three score and tin exactly, for he counted the
+carcasses one by one, and laid them out on a clane plate, for to view
+them.
+
+Well, he felt a powerful sperit risin' in him, when he seen the
+slaughther he done, at one blow; and with that he got as consaited as
+the very dickens, and not a sthroke more work he'd do that day, but
+out he wint, and was fractious and impident to every one he met, and
+was squarin' up into their faces and sayin', 'Look at that fist!
+that's the fist that killed three score and tin at one blow--Whoo!'
+
+With that all the neighbours thought he was crack'd, and faith, the
+poor wife herself thought the same when he kem home in the evenin',
+afther spendin' every rap he had in dhrink, and swaggerin' about the
+place, and lookin' at his hand every minit.
+
+'Indeed, an' your hand is very dirty, sure enough, Thady jewel,' says
+the poor wife; and thrue for her, for he rowled into a ditch comin'
+home. 'You had betther wash it, darlin'.'
+
+'How dar' you say dirty to the greatest hand in Ireland?' says he,
+going to bate her.
+
+'Well, it's nat dirty,' says she.
+
+'It is throwin' away my time I have been all my life,' says he;
+'livin' with you at all, and stuck at a loom, nothin' but a poor
+waiver, when it is Saint George or the Dhraggin I ought to be, which
+is two of the siven champions o' Christendom.'
+
+'Well, suppose they christened him twice as much,' says the wife;
+'sure, what's that to uz?'
+
+'Don't put in your prate,' says he; 'you ignorant sthrap,' says he.
+'You're vulgar, woman--you're vulgar--mighty vulgar; but I'll have
+nothin' more to say to any dirty snakin' thrade again--divil a more
+waivin' I'll do.'
+
+'Oh, Thady dear, and what'll the children do then?'
+
+'Let them go play marvels,' says he.
+
+'That would be but poor feedin' for them, Thady.'
+
+'They shan't want for feedin',' says he; 'for it's a rich man I'll be
+soon, and a great man too.'
+
+'Usha, but I'm glad to hear it, darlin',--though I dunna how it's to
+be, but I think you had betther go to bed, Thady.'
+
+'Don't talk to me of any bed but the bed o' glory, woman,' says he,
+lookin' mortial grand.
+
+'Oh! God send we'll all be in glory yet,' says the wife, crassin'
+herself; 'but go to sleep, Thady, for this present.'
+
+'I'll sleep with the brave yit,' says he.
+
+'Indeed, an' a brave sleep will do you a power o' good, my
+darlin','says she.
+
+'And it's I that will be the knight!' says he.
+
+'All night, if you plaze, Thady,' says she.
+
+'None o' your coaxin','says he. 'I'm detarmined on it, and I'll set
+off immediantly, and be a knight arriant.'
+
+'A what?' says she.
+
+'A knight arriant, woman.'
+
+'Lord, be good to me, what's that?' says she.
+
+'A knight arriant is a rale gintleman,' says he; 'going round the
+world for sport, with a swoord by his side, takin' whatever he plazes
+for himself; and that's a knight arriant,' says he.
+
+Well, sure enough he wint about among his neighbours the next day,
+and he got an owld kittle from one, and a saucepan from another; and
+he took them to the tailor, and he sewed him up a shuit o' tin clothes
+like any knight arriant and he borrowed a pot lid, and _that_ he was
+very partic'lar about, bekase it was his shield and he wint to a frind
+o' his, a painther and glazier, and made him paint an his shield in
+big letthers--
+
+'I'M THE MAN OF ALL MIN,
+THAT KILL'D THREE SCORE AND TIN
+AT A BLOW.'
+
+'When the people sees _that_,' says the waiver to himself, 'the sorra
+one will dar' for to come near me.'
+
+And with that he towld the wife to scour out the small iron pot for
+him, 'For,' says he, 'it will make an iligant helmet'; and when it was
+done, he put it an his head, and his wife said, 'Oh, murther, Thady
+jewel, is it puttin' a great heavy iron pot an your head you are, by
+way iv a hat?'
+
+'Sartinly,' says he; 'for a knight arraint should always have _a
+woight an his brain_.'
+
+'But, Thady dear,' says the wife, 'there's a hole in it, and it can't
+keep out the weather.'
+
+'It will be the cooler,' says he, puttin' it an him; 'besides, if I
+don't like it, it is aisy to stop it with a wisp o' sthraw, or the
+like o' that.'
+
+'The three legs of it looks mighty quare, stickin' up,' says she.
+
+'Every helmet has a spike stickin' out o' the top of it,' says the
+waiver; 'and if mine has three, it's only the grandher it is.'
+
+'Well,' says the wife, getting bitther at last, 'all I can say is, it
+isn't the first sheep's head was dhress'd in it.'
+
+'_Your sarvint, ma'am_,' says he; and off he set.
+
+Well, he was in want of a horse, and so he wint to a field hard by,
+where the miller's horse was grazin', that used to carry the ground
+corn round the counthry.
+
+'This is the idintical horse for me,' says the waiver; 'he is used to
+carryin' flour and male, and what am I but the _flower_ o' shovelry in
+a coat o' _mail_; so that the horse won't be put out iv his way in the
+laste.'
+
+But as he was ridin' him out o'the field, who should see him but the
+miller.
+
+'Is it stalin' my horse you are, honest man?' says the miller.
+
+'No,' says the waiver; 'I'm only goin' to _ax_ercise him,' says he,
+'in the cool o' the evenin'; it will be good for his health.'
+
+'Thank you kindly,' says the miller; 'but lave him where he is, and
+you'll obleege me.'
+
+'I can't afford it,' says the waiver, runnin' the horse at the ditch.
+
+'Bad luck to your impidence,' says the miller; 'you've as much tin
+about you as a thravellin' tinker, but you've more brass. Come back
+here, you vagabone,' says he.
+
+But he was too late; away galloped the waiver, and took the road to
+Dublin, for he thought the best thing he could do was to go to the
+King o' Dublin (for Dublin was a grate place thin, and had a king iv
+its own), and he thought, maybe, the King o' Dublin would give him
+work. Well, he was four days goin' to Dublin, for the baste was not
+the best and the roads worse, not all as one as now; but there was no
+turnpikes then, glory be to God! When he got to Dublin, he wint
+sthrait to the palace, and whin he got into the coortyard he let his
+horse go and graze about the place, for the grass was growin' out
+betune the stones; everything was flourishin' thin in Dublin, you see.
+Well, the king was lookin' out of his dhrawin'-room windy, for
+divarshin, whin the waiver kem in; but the waiver pretended not to see
+him, and he wint over to a stone sate, undher the windy--for, you see,
+there was stone sates all round about the place for the accommodation
+o' the people--for the king was a dacent, obleeging man; well, as I
+said, the waiver wint over and lay down an one o' the sates, just
+undher the king's windy, and purtended to go asleep; but he took care
+to turn out the front of his shield that had the letthers an it; well,
+my dear, with that, the king calls out to one of the lords of his
+coort that was standin' behind him, howldin' up the skirt of his coat,
+accordin' to rayson, and says he: 'Look here,' says he, 'what do you
+think of a vagabone like that comin' undher my very nose to go sleep?
+It is thrue I'm a good king,' says he, 'and I 'commodate the people by
+havin' sates for them to sit down and enjoy the raycreation and
+contimplation of seein' me here, lookin' out a' my dhrawin'-room
+windy, for divarshin; but that is no rayson they are to _make a hotel_
+o' the place, and come and sleep here. Who is it at all?' says the
+king.
+
+'Not a one o' me knows, plaze your majesty.'
+
+'I think he must be a furriner,' says the king; 'bekase his dhress is
+outlandish.'
+
+'And doesn't know manners, more betoken,' says the lord.
+
+'I'll go down and _circumspect_ him myself,' says the king; 'folly
+me,' says he to the lord, wavin' his hand at the same time in the most
+dignacious manner.
+
+Down he wint accordingly, followed by the lord; and whin he wint over
+to where the waiver was lying, sure the first thing he seen was his
+shield with the big letthers an it, and with that, says he to the
+lord, 'Bedad,' says he, 'this is the very man I want.'
+
+'For what, plaze your majesty?' says the lord.
+
+'To kill that vagabone dragghin, to be sure,' says the king.
+
+'Sure, do you think he could kill him,' says the lord, 'when all the
+stoutest knights in the land wasn't aiquil to it, but never kem back,
+and was ate up alive by the cruel desaiver.'
+
+'Sure, don't you see there,' says the king, pointin' at the shield,
+'that he killed three score and tin at one blow? and the man that done
+_that_, I think, is a match for anything.'
+
+So, with that, he wint over to the waiver and shuck him by the
+shouldher for to wake him, and the waiver rubbed his eyes as if just
+wakened, and the king says to him, 'God save you,' said he.
+
+'God save you kindly,' says the waiver, _purtendin'_ he was quite
+onknowst who he was spakin' to.
+
+'Do you know who I am,' says the king, 'that you make so free, good
+man?'
+
+'No, indeed,' says the waiver; 'you have the advantage o' me.'
+
+'To be sure I have,' says the king, _moighty high_; 'sure, ain't I the
+King o' Dublin?' says he.
+
+The waiver dhropped down an his two knees forninst the king, and says
+he, 'I beg God's pardon and yours for the liberty I tuk; plaze your
+holiness, I hope you'll excuse it.'
+
+'No offince,' says the king; 'get up, good man. And what brings you
+here?' says he.
+
+'I'm in want o' work, plaze your riverence,' says the waiver.
+
+'Well, suppose I give you work?' says the king.
+
+'I'll be proud to sarve you, my lord,' says the waiver.
+
+'Very well,' says the king. 'You killed three score and tin at one
+blow, I understan',' says the king.
+
+'Yis,' says the waiver; 'that was the last thrifle o' work I done, and
+I'm afeard my hand 'll go out o' practice if I don't get some job to
+do at wanst.'
+
+'You shall have a job immediantly,' says the king. 'It is not three
+score and tin or any fine thing like that; it is only a blaguard
+dhraggin that is disturbin' the counthry and ruinatin' my tinanthry
+wid aitin' their powlthry, and I'm lost for want of eggs,' says the
+king.
+
+'Throth, thin, plaze your worship,' says the waiver, 'you look as
+yollow as if you swallowed twelve yolks this minit.'
+
+'Well, I want this dhraggin to be killed,' says the king. 'It will be
+no throuble in life to you; and I am only sorry that it isn't betther
+worth your while, for he isn't worth fearin' at all; only I must tell
+you, that he lives in the County Galway, in the middle of a bog, and
+he has an advantage in that.'
+
+'Oh, I don't value it in the laste,' says the waiver; 'for the last
+three score and tin I killed was in a _soft place_.'
+
+'When will you undhertake the job, then?' says the king.
+
+'Let me at him at wanst,' says the waiver.
+
+'That's what I like,' says the king; 'you're the very man for my
+money,' says he.
+
+'Talkin' of money,' says the waiver; 'by the same token, I'll want a
+thrifle o' change from you for my thravellin' charges.'
+
+'As much as you plaze,' says the king; and with the word, he brought
+him into his closet, where there was an owld stockin' in an oak chest,
+burstin' wid goolden guineas.
+
+'Take as many as you plaze,' says the king; and sure enough, my dear,
+the little waiver stuffed his tin clothes as full as they could howld
+with them.
+
+'Now, I'm ready for the road,' says the waiver.
+
+'Very well,' says the king; 'but you must have a fresh horse,' says
+he.
+
+'With all my heart,' says the waiver, who thought he might as well
+exchange the miller's owld garron for a betther.
+
+And maybe it's wondherin' you are that the waiver would think of goin'
+to fight the dhraggin afther what he heerd about him, when he was
+purtendin' to be asleep, but he had no sitch notion; all he intended
+was,--to fob the goold, and ride back again to Duleek with his gains
+and a good horse. But, you see, cute as the waiver was, the king was
+cuter still; for these high quolity, you see, is great desaivers; and
+so the horse the waiver was put an was larned on purpose; and sure,
+the minit he was mounted, away powdhered the horse, and the divil a
+toe he'd go but right down to Galway. Well, for four days he was goin'
+evermore, until at last the waiver seen a crowd o' people runnin' as
+if owld Nick was at their heels, and they shoutin' a thousand murdhers
+and cryin', 'The dhraggin, the dhraggin!' and he couldn't stop the
+horse nor make him turn back, but away he pelted right forninst the
+terrible baste that was comin' up to him, and there was the most
+_nefaarious_ smell o' sulphur, savin' your presence, enough to knock
+you down; and, faith the waiver seen he had no time to lose, and so he
+threw himself off the horse and made to a three that was growin' nigh
+hand, and away he clambered up into it as nimble as a cat; and not a
+minit had he to spare, for the dhraggin kem up in a powerful rage, and
+he devoured the horse body and bones, in less than no time; and then
+he began to sniffle and scent about for the waiver, and at last he
+clapt his eye an him, where he was, up in the three, and says he, 'In
+throth, you might as well come down out o' that,' says he; 'for I'll
+have you as sure as eggs is mate.'
+
+'Divil a fut I'll go down,' says the waiver.
+
+'Sorra care, I care,' says the dhraggin; 'for you're as good as ready
+money in my pocket this minit, for I'll lie undher this three,' says
+he, 'and sooner or later you must fall to my share'; and sure enough
+he sot down, and began to pick his teeth with his tail, afther the
+heavy brekquest he made that mornin' (for he ate a whole village, let
+alone the horse), and he got dhrowsy at last, and fell asleep; but
+before he wint to sleep, he wound himself all round about the three,
+all as one as a lady windin' ribbon round her finger, so that the
+waiver could not escape.
+
+Well, as soon as the waiver knew he was dead asleep, by the snorin' of
+him--and every snore he let out of him was like a clap o'
+thunder--that minit the waiver began to creep down the three, as
+cautious as a fox; and he was very nigh hand the bottom, when, bad
+cess to it, a thievin' branch he was dipindin' an bruk, and down he
+fell right a-top o' the dhraggin; but if he did, good luck was an his
+side, for where should he fall but with his two legs right acrass the
+dhraggin's neck, and, my jew'l, he laid howlt o' the baste's ears, and
+there he kept his grip, for the dhraggin wakened and endayvoured for
+to bite him; but, you see, by rayson the waiver was behind his ears,
+he could not come at him, and, with that, he endayvoured for to shake
+him off; but the divil a stir could he stir the waiver; and though he
+shuk all the scales an his body, he could not turn the scale agin the
+waiver.
+
+'By the hokey, this is too bad intirely,' says the dhraggin; 'but if
+you won't let go,' says he, 'by the powers o' wildfire, I'll give you
+a ride that 'ill astonish your siven small sinses, my boy'; and, with
+that, away he flew like mad; and where do you think he did
+fly?--bedad, he flew sthraight for Dublin, divil a less. But the
+waiver bein' an his neck was a great disthress to him, and he would
+rather have had him an _inside passenger_; but, anyway, he flew and he
+flew till he kem _slap_ up agin the palace o' the king; for, bein'
+blind with the rage, he never seen it, and he knocked his brains
+out--that is, the small thrifle he had--and down he fell spacheless.
+An' you see, good luck would have it, that the King o' Dublin was
+lookin' out iv' his dhrawin'-room windy, for divarshin, that day also,
+and whin he seen the waiver ridin' an the fiery dhraggin (for he was
+blazin' like a tar-barrel), he called out to his coortyers to come and
+see the show. 'By the powdhers o' war, here comes the knight arriant,'
+says the king, 'ridin' the dhraggin that's all afire, and if he gets
+_into the palace_, yiz must be ready wid the _fire ingines_,' says he,
+'for to _put him out_.' But when they seen the dhraggin fall outside,
+they all run downstairs and scampered into the palace-yard for to
+circumspect the _curosity_; and by the time they got down, the waiver
+had got off o' the dhraggin's neck, and runnin' up to the king, says
+he, 'Plaze your holiness,' says he, 'I did not think myself worthy of
+killin' this facetious baste, so I brought him to yourself for to do
+him the honour of decripitation by your own royal five fingers. But I
+tamed him first, before I allowed him the liberty for to _dar'_ to
+appear in your royal prisince, and you'll oblige me if you'll just
+make your mark with your own hand upon the onruly baste's neck.' And
+with that the king, sure enough, dhrew out his swoord and took the
+head aff the _dirty_ brute as _clane_ as a new pin. Well, there was
+great rejoicin' in the coort that the dhraggin was killed; and says
+the king to the little waiver, says he, 'You are a knight arriant as
+it is, and so it would be of no use for to knight you over agin; but I
+will make you a lord,' says he.
+
+'O Lord!' says the waiver, thunder-struck like at his own good luck.
+
+'I will,' says the king; 'and as you are the first man I ever heer'd
+tell of that rode a dhraggin, you shall be called Lord _Mount_
+Dhraggin,' says he.
+
+'And where's my estates, plaze your holiness?' says the waiver, who
+always had a sharp look-out afther the main chance.
+
+'Oh, I didn't forget that,' says the king; 'it is my royal pleasure to
+provide well for you, and for that rayson I make you a present of all
+the dhraggins in the world, and give you power over them from this
+out,' says he.
+
+'Is that all?' says the waiver.
+
+'All!' says the king. 'Why, you ongrateful little vagabone, was the
+like ever given to any man before?'
+
+'I b'lieve not, indeed,' says the waiver; 'many thanks to your
+majesty.'
+
+'But that is not all I'll do for you,' says the king; 'I'll give you
+my daughther too in marriage,' says he. Now, you see, that was nothin'
+more than what he promised the waiver in his first promise; for, by
+all accounts, the king's daughther was the greatest dhraggin ever was
+seen, and had the divil's own tongue, and a beard a yard long, which
+she _purtended_ was put an her by way of a penance by Father Mulcahy,
+her confissor; but it was well known it was in the family for ages,
+and no wondher it was so long, by rayson of that same.
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX
+
+
+
+
+CLASSIFICATION OF IRISH FAIRIES
+
+
+Irish Fairies divide themselves into two great classes: the sociable
+and the solitary. The first are in the main kindly, and the second
+full of all uncharitableness.
+
+
+THE SOCIABLE FAIRIES
+
+These creatures, who go about in troops, and quarrel, and make love,
+much as men and women do, are divided into land fairies or Sheoques
+(Ir. _Sidheog_, 'a little fairy,') and water fairies or Merrows (Ir.
+_Moruadh_, 'a sea maid'; the masculine is unknown). At the same time I
+am inclined to think that the term Sheoque may be applied to both
+upon occasion, for I have heard of a whole village turning out to hear
+two red-capped water fairies, who were very 'little fairies' indeed,
+play upon the bagpipes.
+
+1. _The Sheoques._--The Sheoques proper, however, are the spirits that
+haunt the sacred thorn bushes and the green raths. All over Ireland
+are little fields circled by ditches, and supposed to be ancient
+fortifications and sheep-folds. These are the raths, or forts, or
+'royalties,' as they are variously called. Here, marrying and giving
+in marriage, live the land fairies. Many a mortal they are said to
+have enticed down into their dim world. Many more have listened to
+their fairy music, till all human cares and joys drifted from their
+hearts and they became great peasant seers or 'Fairy Doctors,' or
+great peasant musicians or poets like Carolan, who gathered his tunes
+while sleeping on a fairy rath; or else they died in a year and a day,
+to live ever after among the fairies. These Sheoques are on the whole
+good; but one most malicious habit have they--a habit worthy of a
+witch. They steal children and leave a withered fairy, a thousand or
+maybe two thousand years old, instead. Three or four years ago a man
+wrote to one of the Irish papers, telling of a case in his own
+village, and how the parish priest made the fairies deliver the stolen
+child up again. At times full-grown men and women have been taken.
+Near the village of Coloney, Sligo, I have been told, lives an old
+woman who was taken in her youth. When she came home at the end of
+seven years she had no toes, for she had danced them off. Now and then
+one hears of some real injury being done a person by the land fairies,
+but then it is nearly always deserved. They are said to have killed
+two people in the last six months in the County Down district where I
+am now staying. But then these persons had torn up thorn bushes
+belonging to the Sheoques.
+
+2. _The Merrows._--These water fairies are said to be common. I asked
+a peasant woman once whether the fishermen of her village had ever
+seen one. 'Indeed, they don't like to see them at all,' she answered,
+'for they always bring bad weather.' Sometimes the Merrows come out of
+the sea in the shape of little hornless cows. When in their own shape,
+they have fishes' tails and wear a red cap called in Irish _cohuleen
+driuth_ (p. 79). The men among them have, according to Croker, green
+teeth, green hair, pigs' eyes, and red noses; but their women are
+beautiful, and sometimes prefer handsome fishermen to their
+green-haired lovers. Near Bantry, in the last century, lived a woman
+covered with scales like a fish, who was descended, as the story goes,
+from such a marriage. I have myself never heard tell of this grotesque
+appearance of the male Merrows, and think it probably a merely local
+Munster tradition.
+
+
+THE SOLITARY FAIRIES
+
+These are nearly all gloomy and terrible in some way. There are,
+however, some among them who have light hearts and brave attire.
+
+1. _The Lepricaun_ (Ir. _Leith bhrogan_, _i.e._ the one shoe
+maker).--This creature is seen sitting under a hedge mending a shoe,
+and one who catches him can make him deliver up his crocks of gold,
+for he is a miser of great wealth; but if you take your eyes off him
+the creature vanishes like smoke. He is said to be the child of an
+evil spirit and a debased fairy, and wears, according to McAnally, a
+red coat with seven buttons in each row, and a cocked-hat, on the
+point of which he sometimes spins like a top. In Donegal he goes clad
+in a great frieze coat.
+
+2. _The Cluricaun_ (Ir. _Clobhair-cean_ in O'Kearney).--Some writers
+consider this to be another name for the Lepricaun, given him when he
+has laid aside his shoe-making at night and goes on the spree. The
+Cluricauns' occupations are robbing wine-cellars and riding sheep and
+shepherds' dogs for a livelong night, until the morning finds them
+panting and mud-covered.
+
+3. _The Gonconer or Ganconagh_ (Ir. _Gean-canogh_, _i.e._
+love-talker).--This is a creature of the Lepricaun type, but, unlike
+him, is a great idler. He appears in lonely valleys, always with a
+pipe in his mouth, and spends his time in making love to shepherdesses
+and milkmaids.
+
+4. _The Far Darrig_ (Ir. _Fear Dearg_, _i.e._ red man).--This is the
+practical joker of the other world. The wild Sligo story I give of 'A
+Fairy Enchantment' was probably his work. Of these solitary and mainly
+evil fairies there is no more lubberly wretch than this same Far
+Darrig. Like the next phantom, he presides over evil dreams.
+
+5. _The Pooka_ (Ir. _Puca_, a word derived by some from _poc_, a
+he-goat).--The Pooka seems of the family of the nightmare. He has most
+likely never appeared in human form, the one or two recorded instances
+being probably mistakes, he being mixed up with the Far Darrig. His
+shape is usually that of a horse, a bull, a goat, eagle, or ass. His
+delight is to get a rider, whom he rushes with through ditches and
+rivers and over mountains, and shakes off in the gray of the morning.
+Especially does he love to plague a drunkard: a drunkard's sleep is
+his kingdom. At times he takes more unexpected forms than those of
+beast or bird. The one that haunts the Dun of Coch-na-Phuca in
+Kilkenny takes the form of a fleece of wool, and at night rolls out
+into the surrounding fields, making a buzzing noise that so terrifies
+the cattle that unbroken colts will run to the nearest man and lay
+their heads upon his shoulder for protection.
+
+6. _The Dullahan._--This is a most gruesome thing. He has no head, or
+carries it under his arm. Often he is seen driving a black coach
+called coach-a-bower (Ir. _Coite-bodhar_), drawn by headless horses.
+It rumbles to your door, and if you open it a basin of blood is thrown
+in your face. It is an omen of death to the houses where it pauses.
+Such a coach not very long ago went through Sligo in the gray of the
+morning, as was told me by a sailor who believed he saw it. In one
+village I know its rumbling is said to be heard many times in the
+year.
+
+7. _The Leanhaun Shee_ (Ir. _Leanhaun sidhe_, _i.e._ fairy
+mistress).--This spirit seeks the love of men. If they refuse, she is
+their slave; if they consent, they are hers, and can only escape by
+finding one to take their place. Her lovers waste away, for she lives
+on their life. Most of the Gaelic poets, down to quite recent times,
+have had a Leanhaun Shee, for she gives inspiration to her slaves and
+is indeed the Gaelic muse--this malignant fairy. Her lovers, the
+Gaelic poets, died young. She grew restless, and carried them away to
+other worlds, for death does not destroy her power.
+
+8. _The Far Gorta_ (man of hunger).--This is an emaciated fairy that
+goes through the land in famine time, begging and bringing good luck
+to the giver.
+
+9. _The Banshee_ (Ir. _Bean-sidhe_, _i.e._ fairy woman).--This fairy,
+like the Fear Gorta, differs from the general run of solitary fairies
+by its generally good disposition. She is perhaps not really one of
+them at all, but a sociable fairy grown solitary through much sorrow.
+The name corresponds to the less common Far Shee (Ir. _Fear Sidhe_), a
+man fairy. She wails, as most people know, over the death of a member
+of some old Irish family. Sometimes she is an enemy of the house and
+screams with triumph, but more often a friend. When more than one
+Banshee comes to cry, the man or woman who is dying must have been
+very holy or very brave. Occasionally she is most undoubtedly one of
+the sociable fairies. Cleena, once an Irish princess and then a
+Munster goddess, and now a Sheoque, is thus mentioned by the greatest
+of Irish antiquarians.
+
+O'Donovan, writing in 1849 to a friend, who quotes his words in the
+_Dublin University Magazine_, says: 'When my grandfather died in
+Leinster in 1798, Cleena came all the way from Ton Cleena to lament
+him; but she has not been heard ever since lamenting any of our race,
+though I believe she still weeps in the mountains of Drumaleaque in
+her own country, where so many of the race of Eoghan More are dying of
+starvation.' The Banshee on the other hand who cries with triumph is
+often believed to be no fairy but a ghost of one wronged by an
+ancestor of the dying. Some say wrongly that she never goes beyond the
+seas, but dwells always in her own country. Upon the other hand, a
+distinguished writer on anthropology assures me that he has heard her
+on 1st December 1867, in Pital, near Libertad, Central America, as he
+rode through a deep forest. She was dressed in pale yellow, and raised
+a cry like the cry of a bat. She came to announce the death of his
+father. This is her cry, written down by him with the help of a
+Frenchman and a violin.
+
+[Illustration: music no caption ]
+
+He saw and heard her again on 5th February 1871, at 16 Devonshire
+Street, Queen's Square, London. She came this time to announce the
+death of his eldest child; and in 1884 he again saw and heard her at
+28 East Street, Queen's Square, the death of his mother being the
+cause.
+
+The Banshee is called _badh_ or _bowa_ in East Munster, and is named
+_Bachuntha_ by Banim in one of his novels.
+
+_Other Fairies and Spirits._--Besides the foregoing, we have other
+solitary fairies, of which too little definite is known to give them
+each a separate mention. They are the House Spirits, of whom 'Teigue
+of the Lee' is probably an instance; the Water Sherie, a kind of
+will-o'-the-wisp; the Sowlth, a formless luminous creature; the Pastha
+(_Piast-bestia_), the lake dragon, a guardian of hidden treasure; and
+the Bo men fairies, who live in the marshes of County Down and destroy
+the unwary. They may be driven away by a blow from a particular kind
+of sea-weed. I suspect them of being Scotch fairies imported by Scotch
+settlers. Then there is the great tribe of ghosts called Thivishes in
+some parts.
+
+These are all the fairies and spirits I have come across in Irish
+folklore. There are probably many others undiscovered.
+
+W. B. YEATS.
+
+CO. DOWN, _June 1891_.
+
+
+
+
+AUTHORITIES ON IRISH FOLKLORE
+
+
+Croker's _Legends of the South of Ireland_; Lady Wilde's _Ancient
+Legends of Ireland_, and _Ancient Charms_; Sir William Wilde's _Irish
+Popular Superstitions_; McAnally's _Irish Wonders_; _Irish Folklore_,
+by Lageniensis (Father O'Hanlan); Curtins's _Myths and Folklore of
+Ireland_; Douglas Hyde's _Beside the Fire_ and his _Leabhar
+Sgeulaigheachta_; Patrick Kennedy's _Legendary Fictions of the Irish
+Peasantry_, his _Banks of the Boro_, his _Evenings on the Duffrey_,
+and his _Legends of Mount Leinster_; the chap-books, _Royal Fairy
+Tales_, and _Tales of the Fairies_. There is also much folklore in
+Carleton's _Traits and Stories_; in Lover's _Legends and Stories of
+the Irish Peasantry_; in Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hall's _Ireland_; in Lady
+Chatterton's _Rambles in the South of Ireland_; in Gerald Griffen's
+_Tales of a Jury Room_ in particular, and in his other books in
+general. It would repay the trouble if some Irish magazine would
+select from his works the stray legends and scraps of fairy belief.
+There is much in the _Collegians_. There is also folklore in the
+chap-book _Hibernian Tales_, and a Banshee story or two will be found
+in Miss Lefanu's _Memoirs of my Grandmother_, and in Barrington's
+_Recollections_. There are also stories in Donovan's introduction to
+the _Four Masters_. The best articles are those in the _Dublin and
+London Magazine_ ("The Fairy Greyhound" is from this collection) for
+1827 and 1829, about a dozen in all, and David Fitzgerald's various
+contributions to the _Review Celtique_ in our own day, and Miss
+M'Clintock's articles in the _Dublin University Magazine_ for 1878.
+There are good articles also in the _Dublin University Magazine_ for
+1839, and much Irish folklore is within the pages of the _Folklore
+Journal_ and the _Folklore Record_, and in the proceedings of the
+_Kilkenny Archaeological Society_. The _Penny Journal_, the _Newry
+Magazine_, _Duffy's Sixpenny Magazine_, and the _Hibernian Magazine_,
+are also worth a search by any Irish writer on the look-out for
+subjects for song or ballad. My own articles in the _Scots Observer_
+and _National Observer_ give many gatherings from the little-reaped
+Connaught fields. I repeat this list of authorities from my _Fairy and
+Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry_,--a compilation from some of the
+sources mentioned,--bringing it down to date and making one or two
+corrections. The reader who would know Irish tradition should read
+these books above all others--Lady Wilde's _Ancient Legends_, Douglas
+Hyde's _Beside the Fire_, and a book not mentioned in the foregoing
+list, for it deals with the bardic rather than the folk literature,
+Standish O'Grady's _History of Ireland, Heroic Period_--perhaps the
+most imaginative book written on any Irish subject in recent decades.
+
+
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