One fine day in harvest - it was indeed
Lady-day* in harvest, that every body knows to be one of the greatest holidays in the year- Tom was
taking a ramble through the ground, and went sauntering along the sunny side of a hedge, thinking in
himself, where would be the great harm if people, instead of idling and going about doing nothing at
all, were to shake out the hay, and bind and stook the oats that was lying on the ledge, especially as
the weather had been rather broken of late, he all of a sudden heard a clacking sort of noise a little
before him, in the hedge.
" Dear me," said Tom," but isn't it surprising to hear the stonechatters
singing so late in the season?" So Tom stole on, going on the tops of his toes to try if he could get a
sight of what was making the noise, to see if he was right in his guess. The noise stopped; but as
Tom looked sharply through the bushes, what should he see in a nook of the hedge but a brown
pitcher that might hold about a gallon and a half of liquor; and by and by a little wee diny dony bit of
an old man, with a little motty of a cocked hat stuck upon the top of his head, and a deeshy daushy
leather apron hanging before him, pulled out a little wooden stool, and stood up upon it and dipped
a little piggin into the pitcher, and took out the full of it, and put it beside the stool, and then sat down
under the pitcher, and began to work at putting a heel-piece on a bit of a brogue just fitting for
" Well, by the powers !" said Tom to himself, " I often heard tell of the
Lepracauns; and, to tell God's truth, I never rightly believed in them - but here's one of them in real earnest. If I go knowingly
to work, I 'm a made man. They say a body must never take their eyes off them, or they'll escape."
Tom now stole on a little farther, with his eye fixed on the little man just as a cat does with a mouse,
or, as we read in hooks, the rattle-snake does with the birds he wants to enchant. So when he got
up quite close to him, "God bless your work, neighbour," said Tom.
The little man raised up his head, and "Thank you kindly," said he.
"I wonder you'd be working on the holy-day ?" said Tom.
"That's my own business, not yours," was the reply.
"Well, may be you 'd be civil enough to tell us what you've got in the pitcher there?" said Tom.
"That I will, with pleasure," said he : "it 's good beer."
"Beer !" said Tom: " Thunder and fire ! where did you get it ?"'
"Where did I get it, is it? Why, I made it, And what do you think I made it of ?"
"Devil a one of me knows," said Tom, but of malt, I suppose; what else?"
"There you 're out. I made it of heath."
"Of heath !" said Tom, bursting out laughing: " sure you don't think me to be such a fool as to believe
"Do as you please," said he, "but what I tell you is the truth. Did you never hear tell of the Danes ?"
"And that I did," said Tom: "weren't them the fellows we gave such a licking when they thought to
take Limerick from us ?"
"Hem !" said the little man drily -" is that all you know about the matter?"
"Well, but about them Danes?" said Tom.
"Why, all the about them there is, is that when they were here they taught us to make beer out of the
heath, and the secret 's in my family ever since."
"Will you give a body a taste of your beer?" said Tom.
"I 'II tell you what it is, young man - it would be fitter for you to be looking after your father's property
than to be bothering decent, quiet people with your foolish questions. There now, while you 're idling
away your time here, there 's the cows have broke into the oats, and are knocking the corn all
Tom was taken so by surprise with this, that he was just on the very point of turning round when he
recollected himself; so, afraid that the like might happen again, he made a grab
[grasp] at the
Cluricaune, and caught him up in his hand; but in his hurry he overset the pitcher, and spilt all the
beer, so that he could not get a taste of it to tell what sort it was.
He then swore what he would not do to him if he did not show him where his money
that the little man was quite frightened; so, says he, " Come along with me a couple of fields off, and
I'll show you a crock of gold." So they went, and Tom held the Lepracaun fast in his hand, and never
took his eyes from off him, though they had to cross hedges, and ditches, and a crooked bit of bog
(for the Cluricaune seemed, out of pure mischief, to pick out the hardest and most contrary way), till
at last they came to a great field all full of boliaun buies (ragweed), and the
Lepracaun pointed to a big boliaun, and, says he, "Dig under that boliaun, and you'll get the great crock all full of guineas."
Tom in his hurry had never minded the bringing a spade with him, so he thought to run home and
fetch one; and that he might know the place again, he took off one of his red garters, and tied it
round the boliaun.
"I suppose," said the Lepracaun, very civilly,
" you've no farther occasion for me ?"
"No," says Tom "you may go away now, if you please, and God speed you, and may good luck
attend you wherever you go."
"Well, goodbye to you, Tom Fitzpatrick," said the Lepracaun, "and much good may do you, with
what you'll get."
So Tom ran, for the dear life, till he came home, and got a spade, and then away with him, as hard
as he could go, back to the field of boliauns; but when he got there, lo, and behold ! not a boliaun in
the field but had a red garter, the very identical model of his own, tied about it; and as to digging up
the whole field, that was all nonsense, for there was more than forty good Irish acres in it.
So Tom came home again with his spade on his shoulder, a little cooler than he went; and many's the hearty
curse he gave the Lepracaun every time he thought of the neat turn he had served him.
Joseph Jacobs - Celtic Fairy Tales 1894.
Note: An almost identical
story can be found of Jack
Fox and the Leprechaun