“I wish I could see them dancing,” said Finn.
“Ah, my lad, no mortal can see them so long as they keep their wee red caps on,” said grandmother. “Sometimes in their revels they toss their caps aside, but you see the frogs are always on the lookout to warn the fairies if mortal steps are near. These tiny elves are very clever. Do you see those three circles of green which are a little lighter in color than the rest of the grass? That is where they danced until the village cocks began to crow. Then they made off to the Nine Hills. Ah! It would be a wonderful sight to see the wee folks whirling and gliding about in the white moonlight to the sweetest fairy music. But as I said, few mortals have ever seen them.”
“Do they dance every night, grandmother?”
“Every night, Finn. If the weather is fine they frolic on the green, especially if the moon is bright. When the nights are wet and stormy they keep inside the hills, where there is an elfin village.”
Finn look very serious. “Grandmother,” he said, “these wee folks must wear out a good many pairs of shoes.”
“That they do, my lad. I’m sure I don’t know what they would do without little Leprechaun, the Fairy Shoemaker. He is the only industrious one among them.”
“Tell me about him, Granny,” said Finn.
Grandmother sat down on a large stone and looked toward the Nine Hills.
“The Fairy Shoemaker is very rich, Finn, richer than my lord O’Toole who lives in the castle by the sea. Indeed, there is no one in all Ireland who has as much gold as this elfin shoemaker who spends his days working for the fairies. All kinds of shoes he makes,—stout little brogans and buskins, high hunting boots, bits of satin slippers that you could stand on a penny, tiny sandals with silver laces and diamond buckles,—all kinds of shoes. O Finn, my lad, he is a wonderful wee old man.”
“Where does he keep his money, Granny?”