So he sat down to rest for a little, and he leaned his
back on a bank of earth, not thinking that it was a place that was
said to be a rath of the Good People. He sat there for a long time,
and at last he began to hear music. It was very soft at first, and he
had to listen hard to catch it at all. Then it sounded clearer, and
after a little he could tell that there were fiddlers and pipers. Then
he thought that he could hear the feet of dancers, and finally
singers, and he could hear the words of the song that they sang. And
these were the words:
Da Luan, da Mort,
Da Luan, da Mort,
Da Luan, da Mort.
"And there were no other words but these, and these the singers sang
over and over and over again. And all they mean is, 'Monday, Tuesday,
Monday, Tuesday, Monday, Tuesday.' After the singers had sung these
words they would make a little pause and then they would go on with
them. Lusmore knew now that the music came from inside the rath, and
he knew well enough that it was the Good People he was listening to.
He kept very quiet and listened, and it seemed a wonderfully sweet
song to him, only after a while he got tired of hearing no other
words.
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