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Updated: May 25, 2025
He saw them for about half-an- hour, and then the old man he and those about him were working for took up a whip and said, "Get on, get on, or we will have no work done!" I asked if he saw the faeries too, "Oh, yes, but he did not want work he was paying wages for to be neglected." He made every body work so hard that nobody saw what happened to the faeries.
"Tis the place the faeries live in, an' 'tis in Irelan'. Sure, 'tis easy gettin' the cap," continued Bridget, with conviction. "All ye need do is to say afther me, 'I wish I wish for the wee red cap, an' ye have it." Bridget extended her hands, palms upward, and the others followed her example; and together they whispered: "I wish I wish for the wee red cap."
"A wee man by a blackthorn-tree Maun stitchit shoes for dancin', An' there's a pair for ye an' me To set our feet a-prancin'. 'Tis muckle gladness 'at ye'll find In Tir-na-n'Og, my dearie; The bonny Land 'at's aye sae kind, Whaur ye'll be nae mair weary. "Ye'll ken the birdeen's blithie song, Ye'll hark till flo'ers lauchen; An' see the faeries trippit long By brook an' brae an' bracken.
The Fire-flies improved their lights and arranged them more artistically, and the Faeries took their places. The inhabitants of the Garden could only look on. Just as they were ready to begin, a bustling and confusion was observed among the group of house Faeries. What could be the stir?
This they put in the middle; but where was the dew? there was none of course, so one of the Faeries had crept down, got on a dandelion-down horse's back and ridden over the moon-beam to the window. In the crack of the sash he got a wee bit of ice that made part of a drop of water when he held it in his hand. It looked like dew, and he managed to get it safely back without spilling much.
Now primroses are "gentle flowers," as everybody ought to know which means that the faeries have been using them for thousands of years to work magic; and Margaret MacLean bought the full of her hands that morning. And this brings us back to Trustee Day at Saint Margaret's which fell on the 30th of April and to the beginning of the story.
The Faery loved him so for saving her that she pulled out her own wings and fastened them on the horse; away he went, and she had to creep home as well as she could. But she did right though she suffered for it; she was never sorry, and the story is told by the Faeries to their children.
Carolan fell asleep upon a faery rath, and it was the faeries who filled his ears with music, so that he was haunted by the tunes ever afterward; and perhaps all poets, whether they are conscious of it or not, fall asleep on faery raths before they write sweet songs.
When I ask for stories of the faeries, my answer is some such as was given me by a woman who lives near a white stone fort one of the few stone ones in Ireland under the seaward angle of Ben Bulben: "They always mind their own affairs and I always mind mine": for it is dangerous to talk of the creatures.
He was the only person in Tir-na-n'Og that night who did not dance. Unnoticed, he climbed into a corner of the throne among the sleeping baby faeries and there he thought hard. As he listened to the pipers' music he shook his head mournfully. "A canna make music mair bonny nor that a canna," he said; and he set about searching through the scraps of his memory for what music he did know.
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