And as Pat was climbing over the ditch, "Look round, Pat," says he. And when Pat looked round, there were jewels and pearls lying at the roots of the furze-bushes on the ditch, as thick as peas.
"Will you help yourself, or take what's given ye, Pat?" says the fairy man.
"Did I ever learn manners?" says Pat. "Would you have me help myself before company? I'll take what your honour pleases to give me, and be thankful."
The fairy man picked a lot of yellow furze-blossoms from the bushes, and filled Pat's pockets.
"Keep 'em for love, Pat, me darlin'," says he.
Pat would have liked some of the jewels, but he put the furze-blossoms by for love.
"Good-evening to your honour," says he.
"And where are you going, Pat, dear?" says the fairy man.
"I'm going home," says Pat. And if the fairy man didn't know where that was, small blame to him.
"Just let me dust them shoes for ye, Pat," says the fairy man. And as Pat lifted up each foot he breathed on it, and dusted it with the tail of his green coat.