“And ’tis very much obleged that I am to your honer and the other gintlemen, and sure ’tis I that will never forget it; but might I not make so bold as to tell you that I am a poor man, and ask your honour whether you could not help me with a thrifle?”
There was a loud shout of laughter, and then the same little fellow that had addressed him before, said, “Well, Tim, we have plenty of the rubbish you all think so much of. There, take as much of the gold as you can carry.”
Tim saw that the ground was covered with guineas, which he set to picking up as fast as he could stow them away, and when he could not find room for one more, he took both his hands full, sighing that he must leave so many behind.
Then the little people cried out, “Go home, Tim Jarvis; but shut your eyes close, or some mischief will happen to you.”
He did as he was told, and felt himself whisked through the air quicker than lightning. Some time after he knew that he no longer moved, he ventured to open his eyes, for he felt a mighty tugging at his hair. He found himself by the side of the hole he had been digging, and his wife, who had grown tired of his strange ways of late, was shaking him rather roughly.
Tim Jarvis and his Wife.
“Lave the breath in me,” he cried, “and I will fill your apron with golden guineas.” He put his hand in his pocket, but only pulled out a few yellow furze-blossoms. When he saw this Tim was quite dejected, and did not venture to answer a word to his wife’s reproaches, but allowed himself to be led home.
From that night he left off dreaming; and taking again to his industrious, hardworking habits, soon made up for his past neglect, and was not only able to buy back his potatoe-field, but became a happy, flourishing man.
His wife used to say that it was only a dream about the little people and the gold, for that certainly she had found him asleep; but Tim shook his head.