and then facing them pictures of my wife Bridget’s kith an’ kin on the other wall.”
“That favour I give ye, that wish I grant ye,” says the fairy, making the shape of a castle on the ground with his awl.
“What next?” he grunted.
“I want goold enough for me an’ my generations to enjoy in grandeur the place forever.
“Always the goold,” sneered the little man, bending to dhraw with his awl on the turf the shape of a purse.
“Now for your third and last wish. Have a care!”
“I want the castle set on this hill—the Divil’s Pillow—where we two stand,” says Darby. Then sweeping with his arm, he says, “I want the land about to be my demesne.”
The Leprechaun stuck his awl on the ground. “That wish I give you, that wish I grant you,” he says. With that he straightened himself up, and grinning most aggravaytin’ the while, he looked Darby over from top to toe. “You’re a foine, knowledgeable man, but have a care of the fourth wish!” says he.
