FAIRY GOLD
It happened one time that a poor man dreamt three nights after other of a sack of fairy gold was buried in under the roots of a lone bush and it growing in a field convenient to his house.
“It may be there is nothing in it,” says he to himself. “But I will be digging in that place and if I find a treasure it will be a big reward for the labour.”
He never let on a word of his intentions to any person, nor did he evenly pass any remark on the strange dreams were after coming to him. At the fall of the day he took a loy in his hand and set out for the lone bush. He was not a great while at work before the steel blade struck against a substance that had no feel of clay, and the man was full sure it was not a stone he was after striking against. He wraught hard to bring whatever was in it to light—and what had he only a powerful fine sack of pure gold and splendid jewels.
He raised it up on his shoulders and set out for home, staggering under the load. It was maybe a hundredweight of treasure he had with him, and he went along planning out the uses of that wealth. Sure the burden was a rejoicement to him and no hardship at all evenly if it had him bent double like an aged and crippled man.
When he came to his own place he went to the byre, and it was there he put down the sack in front of three cows were standing in the bails. For he was not wishful to be making a display of that splendour before the neighbours all, and it was likely he would find some person within making their cailee. Sure enough when he went in on the door of the house he seen two men sitting by the fire and they in no haste to depart. Now the strangers had the English only, and the people of the house spoke Irish with one another.
Says himself, using the Gaelic, “I have a beautiful treasure without—bars of fine gold are in it, and jewels would be the delight of a queen of the world.”
“Oh, bring it into the house,” says she. “Sure it will rise my heart to be looking on the like; the hunger of it is put on my eyes by your words speaking.”
“I have better wit than to make display of my fortune to every person is living in the land,” says he. “Let you content yourself until the two men have departed, and then we’ll fetch the sack in from the byre where I left it in front of the cows.”