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"Do ye really love him, cailin a'sthore?" And this time it was her look that was sharp. "Why, of course I love him! What a foolish question! Why should I be marrying him if I didn't love him? Why do you ask?"
Was not the finest song ever made called Cailin deas crúidhte na mbo? Music! Do you think that the water in the holy well will not improve in its sparkle to have such a can as this dipped into it? It will be welcome everywhere for its clearness and its cleanness. Heavenly Father, look at the manner in which I rounded the edge of that can with the clippers!
"It's what my mother calls me, sir," returned the boy. "What does your father call you," was the next question. "Seumas Roghan Maelduin O'Carbhail Mac an Droid." "It's a big name," said the Leprecaun, and he turned to the little girl. "What is your name, a cailin vig O?" "Brigid Beg, sir." "And what does your father call you?" "He never calls me at all, sir."
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