n the old times there was a half fool living in Dunmore, in the county Galway, and though he was excessively fond of music, he was unable to learn more than one tune, and that was the “Black Rogue.” He used to get a good deal of money from the gentlemen, for they used to get sport out of him. One night the Piper was coming home from a house where there had been a dance, and he half drunk. When he came up to a little bridge that was by his mother’s house, he squeezed the pipes on, and began playing the “Black Rogue.” The Púca came behind him, and flung him on his own back. There were long horns on the Púca, and the Piper got a good grip of them, and then he said: “Destruction on you, you nasty beast; let me home. I have a tenpenny-piece in my pocket for my mother, and she wants snuff.” “Never mind your mother,” said the Púca, “but keep your hold. If you fall, you will break your neck and your pipes.” Then the Púca said to him, “Play up for me the ‘Shan Van Vocht.’” “I don’t know it,” said the Piper.
ever mind whether you do or you don’t,” said the Púca. “Play up, and I’ll make you know.”
The Piper put wind in his bag, and he played such music as made himself wonder.
“Upon my word, you’re a fine music-master,” says the Piper, then; “but tell me where you’re for bringing me.”
“There’s a great feast in the house of the Banshee, on the top of Croagh Patric, to-night,” says the Púca, “and I’m for bringing you there to play music, and, take my word, you’ll get the price of your trouble.”
n the old times there was a half