A traditional story for yez on St Pat's

[Maeve]

Mickey was the laziest man in three counties. If you saw him in the field with a spade in his hand, he was probably leaning on it, dreaming of the day his ship would come in, wishing he had a rich uncle in the US to die and leave him money...anything to be rich without actually working for it. He had a good farm, but wouldn't work it. In fact, the only thing that kept the family going was that his long-suffering wife, Moire, kept a few sheep and she would knit socks from their wool to sell on Market Day.

Well, one day when Mick was looking for a place to hide from work, he heard a "tap-tap-tap" coming from behind the hedge. Peering carefully around it, he saw a little man with a leather apron, hard at work on a shoe. At last, his dreams had come true! A leprechaun! If only he could sneak up on him...carefully...carefully...GOT HIM!

"No tricks, now! I know your sort--no dust in my face, no 'look there'--I'm keeping you in sight until you show me your gold and that's that!" Try as he might, the little man could not get away and so, at last, he agreed to show Mick his treasure. Across the fields, over a hill and down to a grove of young trees. After winding in and among them, Mick was told to stop by a tree near the middle of the grove. "Under that branch, near the roots, you'll find enough gold to satisfy even the greediest of your kind, human!"

At this point, Mickey realized he HAD forgotten something--he had no spade with him. So he told the leprechaun "I'm going to mark that tree and I want your solemn oath that you will not remove the mark or touch it in any way." The little man promised, Mickey released him and "poof!" the leprechaun was gone.

Mickey sat down and pulled off one of the new socks Moire had given him just that morning and quickly tied it to the branch the little man had pointed to. Then off he ran, faster than anyone had seen him move in years! Home he went, grabbed a spade and ran back, all the time thinking how wonderful it was going to be to have that gold, all the things he'd buy, never have to work again and... then... he... reached... the grove.

On every branch of every tree there was tied an exact match to the sock he had used to mark the spot. He couldn't dig up the whole of the valley if he had a thousand years to do it. Defeated, he slumped home.

And there was Moire, arms crossed, one foot tapping. "And what was that all about, you running in here and off again like a whirlwind?" Mickey told her the whole sad tale of how the leprechaun had gotten the better of him. But Moire was wiser than he. She turned him around and marched him back to the grove and the two of them harvested all the socks off all those branches of all those trees..and Moire never had to knit another sock in her life.

So if you go a-hunting, your fortune for to find,
Remember Mickey's tale, and keep this in mind;
The folks who get the money, they earn it for themselves
And only fools seek gold by chasing after elves.

Sín é (that's it)

[mohinoaklawnillinois]

1. Lovely story,

and oh so true.

Happy St. Patrick's Day, Maeve

[two gun sid]

2. Thank you, Maeve.

Wonderful story. I hope you are enjoying this fine St. Patrick's Day.