Hainey hoped he would live long and prosper. As he expressed the hope he furtively stuffed into one of Hughie's pockets a small package.
Anna came out and led Hughie into the house for breakfast. The little crowd moved toward the door. On the doorstep she turned around and said: "Hughie's goin' t' haave a cup an' a slice an' go. Ye can all see him in a few minutes. Excuse me if I shut the doore, but Jamie's givin' the thrush its mornin' bath an' it might fly out."
She gently closed the door and we were again alone with the guest.
"The luck ov God is m' portion here," he said, looking at Anna.
Nothing was more evident. His pockets were taxed to their full capacity and those who gathered around the table that morning wished that the "luck of God" would spread a little.
"Th' feeries must haave been t' see ye," Jamie said, eyeing his pockets.
"Aye, gey sauncy feeries, too!"
"Did ye see aany, Hughie?" Anna asked.
"No, but I had a wondtherful dhrame." The announcement was a disappointment to us. We had dreams of our own and to have right at our fireside the one man in all the world who saw things and get merely a dream from him was, to say the least, discouraging.
"I thocht I heer'd th' rat, tap; rat, tap, ov th' Lepracaun—th' feerie shoemaker.