Shaun did not tell his father that the wicked stepmother had kept him from school that day. He did not tell his father that she had made him walk upon an errand, miles and miles away. He did not say that she had beaten him when he returned.
Shaun was often tempted to tell these things to his good, kind father. But he feared to cause the poor man sorrow.
"Sure, and 'twould be a pity to cause him grief, and he so good," the lad had often thought to himself. "And I can bear it all, for have I not himself to love me?"
Shauneen was a brave boy and felt that to whimper to his father would be weak.
He was a sturdy little lad. His hair was Irish red and his cheeks were bright and rosy from the damp, rainy wind. He was strong and manly.
He hated the red petticoat he was forced to wear. Often he had thought of putting on the clothing of a real boy.
But always in his heart, as in the hearts of other village boys, there was the fear of the leprechaun!
And if he were stolen away, what would his dear father do? His dear father, who loved him!
It was only because of his father that Shauneen did not give himself to the fairies.
He would not have been afraid of the fairies.