"Tell me first
of all, who is this messenger that you sent to me?" The King of All
Ireland had only a little bit of brogue--the Dublin kind.
"Sure," said the King of the rath, "that's only poor Naggeneen."
"Only poor Naggeneen!" cried the King of All Ireland. "And what are
you doing with him? Do you see the red jacket he has on? Why doesn't
he wear a green jacket, like your people? You know what his red jacket
means as well as I. He belongs to the fairies who live by themselves,
not to those who live together honestly in a rath. Why do you have him
with your honest green jackets?"
"Sure, Your Majesty," said the King of the rath, "I thought it was no
harm. He said he was tired of being by himself, and you know how handy
he is with the fiddle or the pipes. If he'd been a fir darrig, that's
always playing tricks and making trouble everywhere, why, then, of
course--but he was only a poor cluricaun--"
"Yes," the King of All Ireland interrupted, "only a poor cluricaun,
that does nothing but rob gentlemen's wine cellars and keep himself so
drunk that he's of no use when he's wanted for any good.
Pages:
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89