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DUBLIN AND LONDON MAGAZINE.

JULY, 1825.

SUPERSTITIONS OF THE IRISH PEASANTRY.-NO. v.
THE LUPRECHAUN.

THE County of Wicklow may be justly considered the Paradise of the Fairies; for, though decidedly the fittest place in the world for them to reside in, there has not been one of the good people seen there for some years. At what period, or for what crime, they had been ejected from this modern Eden, I have been unable to learn; but, certain it is, there yet live those who say that the hills and dales of this romantic district once abounded with those beings of another world. One Sunday morning, in the spring of 1822, the country people had collected round the little chapel of Greenaan, beautifully situated on the banks of the Avoca, about nine miles from Arklow, and embosomed in woods and mountains. The congregation, while waiting for the presence of Father John Cullen, a little round, fat, oily man of God,' had disposed themselves in groups about the green yard; and on the grass in the neighbouring fields, while some indolently lay against the ditches: but the most distinguished for consequence and numbers was that party which had encircled Jerry O'Toole, the Nestor of Greenaan, who was labouring to spell his way, with the help of spectacles, through an old newspaper, lent him by his neighbour Father Kavanagh, the parish priest, whose mansion, in spite of thatch, presented the idea of tranquil independence. The list of bankrupts and French news presented insurmountable obstacles to Jerry, and he passed over the debates in parliament as a puzzle which he was unable to unravel. At length he came to more congenial matter; and those, who listened before only from a sense of propriety, drew closer with looks of intense curiosity when he read aloud

An Account of the Luprechaun, lately seen near Carlow.'*

Ay, ay,' said an old man present, when Jerry had concluded the lengthy paragraph, Columbhkill's prophecy will now be fulfilled, and the mill of Amberstown will be turned for a whole week with the blood of the slain. A woman shall get upon the highest ditch in the parish, and shall not be able to see either man or boy; for all must go to battle, until the sogers are driven into the sea below Arklow, where a spring-tide will drown them all. Oh! the Lord have marcy upon us, it will be a murdhering wicked time, so it will, to live in! Christ save and protect us!'

The listeners shuddered. 'Jem Murrough,' asked one of them, 'why do you think this time is coming now?'

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Because, you gawky,' answered Jem, every one knows the ould sayen:

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When Luprechauns appear

Troubled times are near."

You are just right, Jem, agragh,' said Jerry, for did'nt Mick Kavanagh katch one o' them a little while before the last rebellion, and sure we've all hard of Luprechaun Mary, who lived at Rathdrum; and did'nt she katch one o' them? only she let him go again, the omudhaun, because he tricked her out of the money when she was cartain sure of it.'

'How was that Jerry?' asked several by-standers.'

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Why, Mary,' replied Jerry,' was the child of as honest a couple as ever broke bread, and one day as she was goen to school through a long narrow boughereen, with as inany turns in it as there are curls in a lawyer's wig, she saw walking before her a man, 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. I.-No. 5.

2 c

little, with a cocked hat upon him, and a dawny furm upon his back, for all the world like a cobbler's stool, having at one end of it a place for his wax and his nawls, and his pinchers, and all his other tools. At first Mary took him for a bochcha who was travelling to some fair or pattern; but as she could see not a bit of a crutch, and as his feet appeared as natural as any Christian's, she thought he was a fairy, and so grew afraid, and ran away. When she got home her mother tould her it was the Luprechaun she had seen, and that if she had caught him, and kept her eye on him, he would have tould her where a crock of money was to be found.

"The Luprechaun, you must know,' continued Jerry, 'is the fairies' shoemaker, and why but the crethers should have shoes as well as other people? He is never seen without his kit, as they call it; and, if you once let him out of your sight, he vanishes like lightning on a summer's night; and a terrible thing it is! But that is not here nor there and so, as I was sayen, Mary was larned the whole history of the Luprechaun, and tould what to do the next time she should see one. But it isn't every day you can ketch a March hare; and faith Mary was long enough after before she got sight of a Luprechaun.

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As she grew up, (and a fine girl she was, they say, as you would meet in a day's walk,) she went to sarvice, where she got a sweetheart, a strapping young fellow, who used to meet her in the evenings at a wild Dun,* near her master's house. It was May-Eve, above all evenings in the year, that Mary was sitting under a tree waiting for her sweetheart; and few would venture out on such an evening, barren one that was in love. She was almost tired of waiting, when suddenly she heard something knock, knock, knock, just for all the world like a shoemaker hammering. At first she was frightened; but, taking courage, she got up, crept round the tree that stood behind her, and who should she see at his work but my

ould gentleman, the Luprechaun ? Mary, like a greyhound, sprung upon him, and grasped him so fast by the neck that the pipe fell out of his mouth, and he roared out "Milla a murdher" like one who was kilt.

Give me money,' cried Mary. 'I will, I will,' said he, if you come over the stile there with me, and don't choke me.'

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To this Mary consented, keeping her eye all the time on the little ould fellow; and he played several tricks to make her look another way, but she was up to him, and so held him fast. He went first into this field, and then into that field, and then into another; till, seeing there was no chance of escape, he stamped his foot on the ground, and said, "Here is the money; have you got a feck?" No,' says Mary.

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Then,' says he, go home and get one; and when you come back dig up this place, and you'll find plenty of money.'

'But how might I be after knowing this place again?' axed Mary.

Oh, as to that,' said he, I'll soon put a mark upon it;' and so, taking his stobbing-nawl, he punched it into the ground, and, quick as thought, up springs a great big thistle, the like of which was never seen before in Ireland, as I'll tell you by-and-by. Well, Mary thought now, sure enough, that her fortune was made; and so, letting the chap go, she ran for a feck. On her way she met her sweetheart; and, hitting him a slap on the shoulder, she asked him wouldn't he marry her.'

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Marry you! to be sure I will,' said Paddy.

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Now, or never,' says she; 'bekase do you see, Paddy, I have a reason;' and then, putting her hands behind her back, she looked cunning, as much as to say, "Paddy, you blackguard, I have got something to make the pot bile."

'Paddy liked the thackeen, and so, without much ado, ran off to the priest, and got married out o' hand. When Father Luke, God be good and 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 Dunamase, 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 trouble, Mary cried, "You must have it, sir. Paddy, get a feck, and come along, I'll make a man of you; for I am as rich as if I'd Damer's estate; and I would'nt tell you before, bekase I wanted to try you."

"The people, all astonished, as well they might, at this strange conduct, followed the new-married couple to the field; but when they entered it, by the Powers, in place of one thistle there were twenty thousand, all in

blossom.

Och avudustrue! what a piece of work there was then! Mary fell to cry, and all the rest ran home for spades and shovels; but the devil a hapenny a money they would get if they dug there since, Bekase they did'nt know the right thistle. But these thistles have been a greater curse than that of Cromwell himself; for, like Scotchmen, they take root every where, and let nothing thrive but themselves. Until Mary met the Luprechaun there wasn't one of these thistles in Ireland, so that she ought to have been called Thistle Mary, instead of Luprechaun Mary, a name by which she ever after went.'

'Well, and what did Paddy do?' asked a youngster who stood listening to Jerry.

Do! what could he do? Mar. riage is a knot you can tie with your tongue, but can't open with your teeth. Himself and Mary struggled to keep a bit in their head, and had a house full of childer; and, when one o' them grew up to be a man, he was balloted for the sogers, and couldn't pay for a-something they call to sarve in his place. You would think his poor auld mother would break her heart with grief; and one evening she walked out all alone, with nobody with her, her stocking under her arm, and the ball of tread tied up in her apron before her, and she knitting for the life and soul of her. Where should she walk to? but to the auld Dun and, as she sat down under the tree, she heard the ould knock, tack knock, tack knock; and, thinking that it was the Luprechaun, she dropt her stocking, stood up, and, putting the branches and brambles a one side, she saw the little cobbler hard at work, his three-cocked hat on him,

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No, no,' says Mary, ' none of your Scotch thistles for me; my son is listed, and I must have money."

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'Oh! if that's the case,' said the Luprechaun, here's a purse that will never be empty,' and he gave her a beautiful one, sure enough, full of money. Mary, delighted with the gingle, let go the little fellow, who was quickly out of sight, and hurried home; but, what do you think? the money was all slates, and the purse was given as a curiosity to Lord Wicklow, who has it to this very day.'

That's the way wud'em all,' said one of Jerry's auditors. I never hard of any one who ever got any thing from a Luprechaun in my life. He always tricks 'em.'

'Not always,' returned Jerry, for Kavanagh got a real purse from one o' them, that, put his hand in it when he would, there was always plenty of money.'

'Oh, Jerry, tell us about Kavanagh,' was the general request.

Why, then, you must know,' proceeded Jerry, that Kavanagh was an industrious boy, who lived with his mother, not far from this. He kept his little farm so tidy and cozy that he was growing very prosperous in the world, when one evening he katches a Luprechaun behind a haystack, and-like Mary-he demanded money from the fairy shoemaker.'

'Do you owe any rent?' asked the Luprechaun.

None, thank God!' answered Kavanagh; nor am I indebted to any body living.'

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Very good,' said the Luprechaun, and I'll engage a hard-working boy like you has money buried in some place, or perhaps stuck in the thatch.' A little,' said Kavanagh.

And then pray, young man, what do you want of more?' said the fairy cobbler.

'Oh,' said Kavanagh, I want it, and must have it, for when I'm rich I'll not work, but ride about and be a great man.'

Indeed!' said the Luprechaun; but are you not very happy as you are?' Why yes,' ' answered Kavanagh, but then I shall be happier.'

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Take care of that, young man,' said he, and let well enough alone. I dare say you have heard of Croesus, the rich king of Lydia.'

'No, nor the devil a word,' answered Kavanagh; but don't think to be afther bothering me with your ould goster about crocuses and leeds, but out with the money, or, by the Bed of St. Kevin, I'll cut you into bits not as big as a pipe-stopper!'

The Luprechaun, terrified out of his wits, took off his apron, and, pulling a purse out of his right-hand breechespocket, gave it to Kavanagh, telling him to "want not, waste not."

Kavanagh snatched the prize, and, on putting his hand into it, found it, sure enough, to contain money lashens gullore. After capering about for a while like a nanny-goat, he put the purse into his pocket, and resolved to tell nobody. Riches, they say, like death, make great alteration. Kavanagh would now work no more; and, instead of listening to his mother, he flew to ball-courts, hurlingmatches, horse-races, cock-fights, and patterns. Every one called him a good fellow, for he flung money about like the dirt of his shoe. At length he became an united Irishman, it being then before the rebellion, and was, they said, to be a captain when Boney should come over. He attended all private meetings; and shared his money so freely, that his comrades began to suspect him, looked on him as a spy of government, and turned him out of their committee; which was a nasty turn of theirs, the spalpeens, as he was real true blue. This wasn't his only misfortune, as bad luck would have it;

for soon after he was taken up by the yeomen, as he wouldn't tell them where he got the money, and they suspected he stole it, for every body knew he could not get all he spent from his mother's farm, which was now entirely a common for the neighbours' pigs. He didn't, however, lie long in gaol; for Counsellor Macnally procured his pardon, long life to him! though I believe he's dead, but that's no matter.

When the rebellion broke out, Kavanagh shouldered his pike; but, being taken prisoner at Vinegar Hill by the sogers, he pulled out his purse to treat them, when a drummer snatched it out of his hand, and ran away with it. His life, however, was spared'; and, sad and sorrowful, he turned towards home, wishing that he had never seen a Luprechaun. But it never rains but it pours; and when he got to Ferns he was obliged to hide himself in the ould castle, for fear of some yeomen who were parading the streets. While he lay like a hedgehog rolled up in his den, he heard something hammering like a shoemaker; and, stealing into a hole of a place as dark as murther, barren a little light, who should he see but his ould friend, the Luprechaun, cobbling the shoes of the very drummer who had run away with the purse? Holding his tongue for a while, he said nothing; and, when the job was done, the row-dow-dow-beater pulled out the purse, and, haven taken the money out o' it, flung it to the Luprechaun, who, it appears, was the principal cobbler at Ferns. * The drummer didn't know the value of what he parted with; but the cobbler was wiser, and quickly put it into his pocket, and again began to hammer away.

Good morrow to you, Mr. Luprechaun,' says Kavanagh, stepping out of his hiding-place.

Oh, are you there?' says he; 'I hope you made good use of my purse: you are now a happy man, I 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.

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