Part 6

Now it chanced in the spring that her man had three boys hired for to work at the setting of spuds. One morning they passed through the house when the churn was a making, and not one put his hand to the work nor uttered a blessing upon it.

Herself was horrid annoyed to think they'd be that unseemly and ignorant, yet she passed no remark of the sort. Didn't her whole morning's work go to loss for no yield come on the churn.

She was not very great with her neighbours, and the first time she chanced for to speak of what happened that day was next time she seen her own mother.

The old woman says: "If you have one of them three lads impeached for taking the yield from the churn, let you write his name backwards on a small slip of paper and burn it in a shovel over the fire."

"What good'll that be?" asks the daughter.

"It will be the means of restoring the butter was lifted away," says the mother.

"I doubt not--and it two months and more since the loss," says the young woman.

But she brought out the paper and ink for to write down the name of the lad she impeached. She set it down backwards and burnt it over the fire.

"Now," says the mother, "go out to the churn."

What did she find only five pounds of butter sitting within on the dry wood!

XXV

THE GANKEYNOGUE IN THE OAK CHEST

There was once a man of these parts and he had a great longing for to find a treasure.

It chanced one evening that he seen a gankeynogue in the field, sitting in under a bush, and he says:

"Yon lad will surely be worth a powerful weight of gold."

With that he went over and caught a hold of the gankey.

"Let you discover a treasure," says he, "or else I'll keep you like a dog on a chain from this out."

"Keep away!" says the gankey. "How would a poor creature like myself be finding treasure for a strong farmer!"

"Let you not let on to be miserable," says the man, "for well I know it's great wealth you enjoy."

"Is it me!" says the gankeynogue. "Sure I support a lengthy family entirely by my own industry."

But the farmer would not believe a word of the sort. He carried the gankey to his house and put him into a big oak chest.

"You'll never get out except for to show me where treasure is lodged," he allows.

But the gankeynogue wasn't in notion of giving the least information. He sat up in the oak chest, hammering, shouting and singing until he had the people's heads light.

All the while the farmer was determined to get the better of him and he never agreed to let him go.

The lad was his tenth day in the chest when the man of the house came running in that evening, shouting at the top of his voice:

"Darragh fort's on fire! Darragh fort's on fire!"

With that the gankey began the most woeful lamentations, and he hammering like mad to get out of the chest.

"What ails you at all?" asks the farmer.

"My wife and family are in that place," says the gankey. "Let me away to bring them safe from the fire."

"Will you show me a treasure?" asks the man. "Aye surely!" says the gankeynogue. "But let's go first to Darragh fort to save my weak family, and then I'll bestow the treasure."

So the two started off for Darragh fort, and it not on fire at all--that was a story the man was after inventing for to scare the gankeynogue.

When they landed in sight of the place the man allowed the fire be to have burnt out. Didn't the gankey make a run and lep in among the trees.

"I'm safe from you now," says he.

But the man never let on to be vexed that he couldn't see the lad any more, he listened to his voice speaking for to know the direction he went. Then he lay down in that part of the fort and let on to be asleep.

After a while he heard the gankeynogue telling his wife about how he was kept in the chest.

"I was ten days in that place," says he. "And I full of venom against the farmer. But it's the cunning lad I am, for I never let on where the treasure is buried at all."

"Where is it?" asks the gankeynogue's wife.

"Under a stone in the street before his house," says the gankey. "And herself tripped and spilled a bucket of milk just over the place this morning. I was looking out on a hole in the chest, and still I never let on one word when I seen what happened."

"You're a wise little fellow, sure enough," says his wife.

The farmer got up and away home with him after hearing what they said. He asked herself where she spilled the milk at the morning of the day.

"By that stone," says she, setting her foot on a flag in the street.

He brought the loy and a crowbar for to hoke up the place, and didn't he discover a beautiful treasure of gold.

XXVI

THE MAKER OF BROGUES

There was a young lad travelling the road to a fair, and he passed convenient to a field had a sand pit in the middle of it. What did he see, sitting up in that place with his legs dangling over the edge of the pit, only a little wee man making brogues. The lad took one lep into the field and he walked up to the cobbler.

"Good-morning, mister!" says he. "Might I make so bold as to ask what work you are doing this hour of the morning dew, and what makes you fancy the edge of a pit for a seat?"

"'Tis making brogues I am," says the leprachaun, "and they for the Good People's wear."

"I'm thinking you're watching a treasure," says the lad.

"I'm not," says the leprachaun. "But I know where there's plenty hid."

"You be to discover it for me," says the lad.

"Let you wait till this one pair of brogues is made," says the fairy.

So the lad agreed and he sat down to watch him at work.

"Begob," says he, "I never seen any person could hammer in nails such a rate."

"It's a slow worker I'm counted in these parts," says the leprachaun. "Let you look down into the pit at the man is cobbling below. I warrant it's three nails he's driving for each one of mine."

The lad looked over the edge.

"There is no man in it at all!" says he.

With that the leprachaun let a laugh.

"There is not," says he.

"There's a sore chastisement waiting on you for deceiving me," answers the other.

But when he stood on his feet and looked round wasn't the leprachaun gone.

"I'm the fool of the whole wide world," says the lad, and he travelled away to the fair.

GLOSSARY

A power of, a large number.

Bohlan, rag-weed.

Loy, a sort of spade peculiar to the west and north-west of Ireland.

Lone bush, a hawthorn growing at a distance from all other trees. The lone bushes are dedicated to the fairies, and must not be cut down.

Cailee, a visit.

Join the world, to marry.

To allow, to declare.

Gankeynogue, possibly a synonym of leprachaun, used only in the northern districts. A stone barred with fossil reed is said to be the Gankeynogue's pipe.

Fort. The forts referred to are the circular enclosures supposed to have been made, in pre-Christian days, by the Tuatha de Danaan.

Breffny, the counties of Cavan and Leitrim, originally part of Connaught, though Cavan is now in Ulster.