"I don't know," and the cobbler pulled his thinking-lock. "What might it be?"
"Sure, it might be a faery penny," and Bridget eyed him anxiously.
The cobbler slapped his apron and laughed again. "To be sure it might—and I came near forgetting it."
He reached, over and pulled up a tuft of sod at his side; for all one could have told, it might have been growing there, neighbor to all the other sods. Underneath was a dark little hole in the ground; and out of this he brought a brown earthen crock.
"The crock o' gold!" everybody whispered, awesomely.
"Aye, the crock o' gold," agreed the cobbler. "But I keep it hidden, for there is naught that can make more throuble—sometimes." He raised the lid and took out a single shining piece. "Will one do ye?"
Nine heads nodded eloquently, while nine hands were stretched out eagerly to take it.
"Bide a bit. Ye can't all be carrying it at the one time. I think ye had best choose a treasurer."
Bridget was elected unanimously. She took the penny and deposited it in the heel of her faery shoe.
"Mind," said the leprechaun as they were turning to go, "ye mind a faery penny will buy but the one thing. See to it that ye are all agreed on the same thing."