When it came time for him to leave, he hid a flower in his bosom, for he wished to show it to his friends at home. He then said farewell to the Fairies, and returned through the dark passage to the margin of the lake. But when he put his hand in his bosom to pull out the flower, he found to his amazement that it had vanished. At the same moment he fell insensible to the ground.
When he came to himself, the door in the rock had disappeared. And though he searched day after day, he never again found the passage to the Fairy Island.
THE FOUR-LEAVED CLOVER
From Cornwall
Some years ago, in Cornwall, there was a farmer who owned a fine red cow, named Rosy. She gave twice as much milk as any ordinary cow. Even in Winter, when other cows were reduced to skin and bone, Rosy kept in good condition, and yielded richer milk than ever.
One Spring, Rosy continued to give plenty of milk every morning, but at night, when Molly the maid tried to milk her, she kicked the bucket over and galloped away across the field. This happened night after night, and such behaviour was so strange, that Dame Pendar, the farmer’s wife, decided to see what she could do. But no sooner did she try to milk Rosy than the cow put up her foot, kicked the bucket to bits, and raced away, bellowing, tail-on-end.
During this Spring the farmer’s cattle and fields thrived wonderfully. And so things continued until May Day. Now, on May Day night, when Molly attempted, as usual, to milk Rosy, she was surprised to see the cow stand quietly and to hear her begin to moo gently; and, more wonderful still, the pail was soon full of foaming new milk. Molly rose from her stool, and, pulling a handful of grass, rolled it into a pad, and tucked it in her hat, so that she might the more easily carry the bucket on her head.
She put the hat on again, when what was her amazement to see whole swarms of little Fairies running around Rosy, while others were on her back, neck, and head, and still others were under her, holding up clover blossoms and buttercups in which to catch the streams of milk that flowed from her udder. The little Fairies moved around so swiftly that Molly’s head grew dizzy as she watched them. Rosy seemed pleased. She tried to lick the Little People. They tickled her behind the horns, ran up and down her back, smoothing each hair or chasing away the flies. And after all the Fairies had drunk their fill, they brought armfuls of clover and grass to Rosy; and she ate it all, and lowed for more.