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DUBLIN AND LONDON MAGAZINE.
SUPERSTITIONS OF THE IRISH PEASANTRY.--N0. V.
TILE LUPRECHAUN. The county of Wicklow may be 'An Account of the Luprechaun, justly considered the Paradise of the lately seen near Carlow.'* Fairies; for, though decidedly the “Ay, ay,' said an old man pre. fittest place in the world for them to sent, when Jerry had concluded the reside in, there has not been one of lengthy paragraph, Columbhkill's the good people seen there for some prophecy will now be fulfilled, and years. At what period, or for what the will of Amberstown will be turncrime, they had been ejected from this ed for a whole week with the blood modern Eden, I have been unable to of the slain. A woman shall get upon learn; but, certain it is, there yet live the highest ditch in the parish, and those who say that the hills and dales shall not be able to see either man or of this romantic district once abound- boy; for all must go to battle, until ed with those beings of another world. the sogers are driven into the sea
One Sunday morning, in the spring below Arklow, where a spring-tide of 1822, the country people had col will drown them all. Oh! the Lord lected round the little chapel of have marcy upon us, it will be a Greenaan, beautifully situated on the murdhering wicked time, so it will, to banks of the Avoca, about nine miles live in ! Christ save and protect us!! from Arklow, and embosomed in The listeners shuddered. 'Jem woods and mountains. The congrega- Murrough,'asked one of them, why tion, while waiting for the presence of do you think this time is coming Father John Cullen,' a little round, now? fat, oily man of God,' had disposed · Because, you gawky,' answered themselves in groups about the green Jem, everyone knows the ould yard; and on the grass in the sayen : neighbouring fields, while some “When Luprechauns appear . indolently lay against the ditches: Troubled times are near." but the most distinguished for con- 'You are just right, Jem, agragh,' sequence and numbers was that party said Jerry, 'for did'nt Mick Kavanagh which had encircled Jerry O'Toole, katch one o'them a little while before the Nestor of Greenaan, who was the last rebellion, and sure we've all labouring to spell his way, with the hard of Luprechaun Mary, who lived help of spectacles, through an old at Rathdrum; and did'nt she katch newspaper, lent him by his neighbour one o' them? only she let him go Father Kavanaghi, the parish priest, again, the omudhaun, because he whose mansion, in spite of thatch, tricked her out of the money when presented the idea of tranquil inde- she was cartain sure of it.' pendence. The list of bankrupts and How was that Jerry?' asked seve- . French news presented insurmount- ral by-standers.' able obstacles to Jerry, and he passed • Why, Mary,' replied Jerry, ‘was over the debates in parliament as a the child of as honest a couple as ever puzzle which he was unable to un- broke bread, and one day as she was ravel. At length he came to more goen to school through a long narrow congenial matter; and those, who list- boughereen, with as inany turns in it ened before only from a sense of as there are curls in a lawyer's wig, propriety, drew closer with looks of she saw walking before her a man, intense curiosity when he read aloud who wasn't a man neather, he was so
* The writer had subjoined in a note this account from the · Carlow Morning Post; but, as the particulars are given by our worthy friend the Hermit, in his article for this month, we have omitted the extract. It is not a little singular that two of our contributors should have chosen the same subject. ---Ed. VOL. 1.-No. 5.
little, with a cocked hat upon him, ould gentleman, the Luprechaun? and a dawny furm upon his back, for Mary, like a greyhound, sprung upon all the world like a cobbler's stool, him, and grasped him so fast by the having at one end of it a place for his neck that the pipe fell out of his wax and his nawls, and his pinchers, mouth, and he roared out “ Milla u and all his other tools. At first Mary murdher" like one who was kilt. took him for a bochcha who was tra. Give me money,' cried Mary. 'I velling to some fair or pattern; but as will, I will,” said he, if you come she could see not a bit of a crutch, over the stile there with me, and don't and as his feet appeared as natural as choke me.' any Christian's, she thought he was a “To this Mary consented, keeping fairy, and so grew afraid, and ran her eye all the time on the little ould away. When she got home her fellow; and he played several tricks mother tould her it was the Lupre- to make her look another way, but chaun she had seen, and that if she she was up to him, and so held him had caught him, and kept her eye on fast. He went first into this field, him, he would have tould her where and then into that field, and then into a crock of money was to be found another; till, seeing there was no ::The Luprechaun, you must know,' chance of escape, he stamped his continued Jerry, 'is the fairies' shoe- foot on the ground, and said, “ Here maker, and why but the crethers is the money; have you got a feck ?” should have shoes as well as other 'No,' says Mary. people? He is never seen without his “Then,' says he, go home and kit, as they call it; and, if you once let get one; and when you come back dig him out of your sight, he vanishes up this place, and you'll find plenty of like lightning on a summer's night; money.' and a terrible thing it is ! But that is ‘But how might I be after knownot here nor there : and so, as I was ing this place again ?' axed Mary. sayen, Mary was larned the whole Oh, as to that,' said he, J'll soon history of the Luprechaun, and tould put a mark upon it;' and so, taking his what to do the next time she should stobbing-nawl, he punched it into the see one. But it isn't every day you ground, and, quick as thought, up can ketch a March hare ; and faith springs a great big thistle, the like or Mary was long enough after before which was never seen before in Ireshe got sight of a Luprechaun. land, as I'll tell you by-and-by. Well,
As she grew up, (and a fine girl she Mary thought now, sure enough, that was, they say, as you would meet in a her fortune was made ; and so, letting day's walk,) she went to sarvice, where the chap go, she ran for a feck. On she got a sweetheart, a strapping her way she met her sweetheart; and, young fellow, who used to meet her hitting him a slap on the shoulder, she in the evenings at a wild Dun,* near asked him wouldn't he marry her.' her master's house. It was May-Eve, Marry you! to be sure I will,' above all evenings in the year, that said Paddy. Mary was sitting under a tree wait- • Now, or never,' says she ;' bekase ing for her sweetheart; and few would do you see, Paddy, I have a reason;' venture out on such an evening, and then, putting her hands behind her barren one that was in love. She was back, she looked cunning, as much as almost tired of waiting, when sud- to say, “ Paddy, you blackguard, I denly she heard something knock, have got something to make the pot knock, knock, just for all the world bile." like a shoemaker hammering. At Paddy liked the thackeen, and so, first she was frightened ; but, taking without much ado, ran off to the courage, she got up, crept round the priest, and got married out o' hand. tree that stood behind her, and who When Father Luke, God be good and should she see at his work but my marciful to his sowl in glory! stretch
* Dun is the name given to the remains of ancient fortifications, which were always erected on elevated positions. The celebrated one in the Queen's County, called Dun. amase, is the largest in the kingdom. Antiquarians have confounded those with Raths, but they had very different origins.
ed out his hand for something for his his silver buckles in his shoes, and trouble, Mary cried, “ You must have every thing about him quite comfortit, sir. Paddy, get a feck, and come able. Now, thought she, her ould along, I'll make a man of you; for I face laughing with gladness, like a am as rich as if I'd Damer's estate; May sun after a stormy night, I'll and I would'nt tell you before, bekase git money to save my Dick from the I wanted to try you.”
. sogers : and, while you'd say that, she “The people, all astonished, as well popped upon him. He struggled they might, at this strange conduct, hard to get away, but couldn't, Mary followed the new-married couple to held him so tight.' the field; but when they entered it, • Come into the field,” said he, by the Powers, in place of one thistle and I'll show you where the money there were twenty thousand, all in is.' blossom.
• No, no,' says Mary, 'none of Och arudustrue! what a piece of your Scotch thistles for me; my son work there was then! Mary fell to is listed, and I must have money.' cry, and all the rest ran home for • Oh! if that's the case,' said the spades and shovels; but the devil a Luprechaun, here's a purse that will hapenny a money they would get if never be empty,' and he gave her a they dug there since, Bekase they beautiful one, sure enough, full of did'nt know the right thistle. But money. Mary, delighted with the these thistles have been a greater gingle, let go the little fellow, who curse than that of Cromwell himself; was quickly out of sight, and hurried for, like Scotchmen, they take root home; but, what do you think? the every where, and let nothing thrive money was all slates, and the purse but themselves. Until Mary met the was given as a curiosity to Lord Luprechaun there wasn't one of these Wicklow, who has it to this very thistles in Ireland, so that she ought day.' to have been called Thistle Mary, in- «That's the way wud'em all,' said stead of Luprechaun Mary, a name one of Jerry's auditors. “I never by which she ever after went. hard of any one who ever got any ... Well, and what did Paddy do?' thing from a Luprechaun in my life. asked a youngster who stood listen- He always tricks 'em. ing to Jerry.
• Not always,' returned Jerry, · for • Do! what could he do? Mar, Kavanagh got a real purse from one riage is a knot you can tie with your o' them, that, put his hand in it when tongue, but can't open with your teeth. he would, there was always plenty of Himself and Mary struggled to keep money.' a bit in their head, and had a house " Oh, Jerry, tell us about Kavafull of childer; and, when one o' them nagh,' was the general request. grew up to be a man, he was balloted “Why, then, you must know,' profor the sogers, and couldn't pay for ceeded "Jerry, `that Kavanagh was a-something they call to sarve in an industrious boy, who lived with his place. You would think his poor his mother, not far from this. He auld mother would break her heart kept his little farm so tidy and cozy with grief; and one evening she walk- that he was growing very prosperous ed out all alone, with nobody with in the world, when one evening he her, her stocking under her arm, and katches a Luprechaun behind a haythe ball of tread tied up in her apron stack, and—like Mary-he demanded before her, and she knitting for the money from the fairy shoemaker.' life and soul of her. Where should . •Do you owe any rent?' asked the she walk to ? but to the auld Dun Luprechaun. and, as she sat down under the tree, None, thank God!' answered Kashe heard the ould knock, tack vanagh ; 'nor am I indebted to any knock, tack knock; and, thinking that body living.' it was the Luprechaun, she dropt her "Very good,' said the Luprechaun, stocking, stood up, and, putting the and I'll engage a hard-working boy branches and brambles a one side, like you has money buried in some sbe saw the little cobbler hard at place, or perhaps stuck in the thatch.' work, his three-cocked hat on him, "A little,' said Kavanagh.
* And then pray, young man, what for soon after he was taken up lig do you want of more?' said the fairy the yeomen, as he wouldn't tell them cobbler.
where he got the money, and they Oh,' said Kavanagh, I want it, suspected he stole it, for every body and must have it, for when I'm rich knew he could not get all he spent I'll not work, but ride about and be from his mother's farm, which was a great man.'
now entirely a common for the neighIndeed!' said the Luprechaun; 'but bours' pigs. He didn't, however, lie are you not very happy as you are?' long in gaol; for Counsellor Macnally
Why yes,' answered Kavanagh, procured his pardon, long life to him! • but then I shall be happier.' though I believe he's dead, but that's
• Take care of that, young man, no matter. said he, ‘and let well enough alone. "When the rebellion broke out, I dare say you have heard of Creesus, Kavanagh shouldered his pike; but, the rich king of Lydia.'
being taken prisoner at Vinegar Hill • No, nor the devil a word,' an- by the sogers, he pulled out his swered Kavanagh; but don't think purse to treat them, when a drumto be afther bothering me with your mer snatched it out of his hand, and ould goster about crocuses and leeds, ran away with it. His life, however, but out with the money, or, by the was spared; and, sad and sorrowful, Bed of St. Kevin, l'll cut you into he turned towards home, wishing bits not as big as a pipe-stopper!' that he had never seen a Lupre
•The Luprechaun, terrified out of his chaun. But it never rains but it wits, took off his apron, and, pulling pours; and when he got to Ferns he a purse out of his right-hand breeches- was obliged to hide himself in the pocket, gave it to Kavanagh, telling ould castle, for fear of some yeomen him to “ want net, waste not.” who were parading the streets.
“Kavanagh snatched the prize, and, While he lay like a hedgehog rolled on putting his hand into it, found it, up in his den, he heard something sure enough, to contain money lashens hammering like a shoemaker; and, gullore. After capering about for a stealing into a hole of a place as while like a nanny-goat, he put the dark as murther, barren a little light, purse into his pocket, and resolved who should he see but his ould to tell nobody. Riches, they say, like friend, the Luprechaun, cobbling the death, make great alteration. Ka- shoes of the very drummer who had vanagh would now work no more ; run away with the purse ? Holding and, instead of listening to his mo. his tongue for a while, he said nother, he flew to ball-courts, hurling- thing; and, when the job was done, matches, horse-races, cock-fights, the row-dow-dow-beater pulled out and patterns. Every one called hin the purse, and, haven taken the a good fellow, for he flung money money out o' it, ilung it to the Luabout like the dirt of his shoe. At prechaun, who, it appears, was the length he became an united Irish- principal cobbler at Ferns. * The man, it being then before the rebel. drummer didn't know the value of lion, and was, they said, to be a cap- what he parted with; but the cobbler tain when Boney should come over. was wiser, and quickly put it into He attended all private meetings; his pocket, and again began to ham. and shared his money so freely, that mer away. his comrades began to suspect him, “Good morrow to you, Mr. Lulooked on him as a spy of government, prechaun,' says Kavanagh, stepping and turned him out of their com- out of his hiding-place. mittee; which was a nasty turn of Oh, are you there?' says he; ] theirs, the spalpeens, as he was real hope 'you made good use of my true blue. This wasn't his only mis- purse: you are now a happy ipan, I fortune, as bad luck would have it ; suppose ?'
* Some years ago, a literary friend informs me, a mysterious cobbler took up his abode in the old castle of Ferns; he repaired such shoes as were left at the mouth of his retreat, but was never visible to any of his customers. After exciting great curi. osity in the town, he suddenly disappeared ; according to the vulgar opinion, he was the Luprechaun.