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"I thought you'd look at it as kind o' comic." "Exceedingly comic," said the Phoenix severely. "I am quite overcome with mirth and merriment. But perhaps perhaps I shall let you off lightly if you tell us where the Banshee lives." "The the Banshee of Mare's Nest Wood?" "The same. Speak!" A new light of respect and fear came into the Leprechaun's eyes. "She's a terror, she is.
Another memory of Sandy's adjoins that of the Apostles'; and he told it with great precision and regard for the truth. Ever since crossing the River of Make-Believe Sandy had been able to think of nothing but the story Bridget had told the very last thing in Ward C and ever since he had left the leprechaun's bush behind he had been wondering and scheming how he could get rid of his hump.
What'll you be wanting " "None of your business!" roared the Phoenix. "Where is she?" The Leprechaun had begun to tremble. "Follow the path yonder through the wood until you reach the cave, Your Honor. You're not friends o' hers, are you? You'll not be telling on me? I'm real sorry for those jokes, Your Honor." The Leprechaun's fright was so genuine now that the Phoenix relented and let him go.
They miss him, of course; but they picture him running, sturdy-limbed, up the slope to the leprechaun's tree, with Michael waiting for him not far off. To the children Tir-na-n'Og is the waiting-place for all child-souls until Saint Anthony is ready to gather them up and carry them away with him to the "Blessed Mother"; and Margaret MacLean, having nothing better to tell them, keeps silent.
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