This post is for yesterday's post (Saturday, March 16). I have no excuses for not doing it. I guess I was just too lazy. This story is in honor of St. Patrick's Day. We watched Darby O'Gill and the Little People last night.
In the rolling green hills of Ireland, a potato farmer once lived in a dilapidated house with his shiftless son, whiny daughter, and grumpy wife. Seamus had farmed potatoes as far back as he could remember. He tried to pass the tradition down to his son, Michael, but the young man of twenty was not very motivated to work in the fields, or anywhere for that manner. Seamus usually ended up doing most of the work himself, with the prospect of retiring looking farther and farther away. Katie was almost eighteen, and she did was complain that she could never attract a husband with her complexion. Her face had too many freckles, her nose was too large and round, her hair was too red, her arms were too hairy and tanned from helping pick potatoes...The list went on. When Katie wasn't pressed into servitude outside, she was forced to finish her homework or chained to the table to work on her sewing. Katie hated that most of all. She saw no sense in stitching dainty hankies that would just get shoved in pockets. Lillian, her mother, was also unsatisfied with her life. She complained to her husband almost daily, about how small and worn their house was and how their lives mirrored where they lived.
One sunny afternoon, Seamus stopped working in the fields to catch his breath and get some water. He sat on a rock at the edge of his field and drank some refreshing water from his silver dipper. As he set it back down, he noticed a small hole in the ground. Thinking it was a mole or some other animal that would disrupt his garden, he decided he would smoke the animal out of its home. Seamus lit a match and blew the smoke into the hole. He was alert for whatever would come out the other end of the tunnel, but Seamus was not prepared for what exactly lived there. A minute or two passed, and Seamus saw the dirt start moving a foot away from the hole. He held his hands over the moving dirt in order to catch whatever would come out. Then, a tiny milk-skinned leprechaun, dressed in a green top hat, suit coat, and curled shoes, burst out of the dirt. He coughed and gasped for air. Seamus quickly grabbed it, not quite realizing what he had in his hands until it was captured.
"Gaa, let me go! Let me go!" the little man struggled to say between coughs.
"Why, as I live and breath, it be a leprechaun!"
"Wha t'else would I be?" he shouted, hitting Seamus' thumb.
"I can't wait to show you to my family. Won't they be surprised?"
The little man looked frightened. "I have a family too. Wha do ya'think they'd say, once they find out I'm missin'? Why, their poor littl hearts be broken in pieces!"
Seamus shook his head. "Ya can't fool me. You don't have no family, or else they'd be diggin' out of the dirt too."
Seamus ignored the leprechaun's pleas as he walked to the house. He kept thinking about all the things he could wish for. He heard he could have three wishes. He could wish for a nice house, which would please himself and his wife. One wish could be for daughter, and the other for his son. But wait, that would leave him with nothing nice for himself. Maybe his children should share a wish too. No, they'd fight too much. But it was his leprechaun. If they wanted wishes, they had to hunt for one themselves.
His thoughts rambled on in this fashion until his family's cries interrupted them. They shouted requests for wishes all at once, and bombarded Seamus with questions until he couldn't think straight.
"Let me sit down a minute!" he said wearily.
"We should lock him in something so he won't escape!" Michael suggested and ran out to the shed to see what he could find. He hadn't run so fast in months.
"I'll bet you're hungry," Lillian said cheerfully to the leprechaun. "I'll fix somthin' to eat."
"You are a cute littl darlin', aren't ya!" Katie cooed and poked him.
"Don't touch me suit!" the leprechaun snapped. "You'll wrinkle it."
Michael came back with an old trap that resembled a cage. "Will this do, Da?"
"Aye, that it will me, Michael." Seamus locked the wee man up.
"Now, what will you wish? Is it to make me beautiful?" Katie asked eagerly.
"Da wouldn't waste a wish on somethin' fool-hardy like that!"
"Children," Seamus started before Katie could say something back, "that'll do. Perhaps yur mother and I should discuss it first."
"Excellent idea, Seamus," Lillian said, dragging her husband by the arm outside. "Katie, stir the food for our guest. Michael, keep a sharp eye on him. We'll be back."
Michael pulled up a chair and stared at the cage with a greedy smile. "You're going to make me very rich little man."
"You know," the leprechaun said, with his hands on the bars, "yur family won't let you have anything. Think. I offer three wishes, and there's four of ya. If you don't act, you'll get none."
"Then I'll ask for my wish now!"
"Uh-uh." The leprechaun wagged his finger. "Only the one who catches me makes the wishes. But you know what I'll do? If you release me, I'll give you some gold for yur trouble."
Michael tried to remain calm. "How do I know you're tellin' me the truth?"
The leprechaun solemnly held up his right hand. "I promise that I'll give you my pot of gold if you'll help me escape." He snapped his fingers, and three gold coins appeared in his hands. "This is a sample of what you get."
Michael eagerly reached for them.
"No!" He pulled the coins away. "Release me first."
Michael looked at his sister, who was busy at the fire, and opened up the cage. "Here, in my pocket," he whispered.
The little man jumped in. Michael crept out a window on the opposite side of the house and ran out to the field as the leprechaun had instructed him to go. "That way," he pointed, "my gold is buried beyond that boulder."
"Here?" Michael asked as he knelt down in the dirt.
"Yes, that be the place. Let me down so I can help ya dig."
Michael helped the leprechaun out of his pocket and started digging at the ground. "How far down do I have to dig, Mr. Leprechaun?"
Silence, for the little man had run away as soon as he was freed.
"Mr. Leprechaun?!!" he looked around.
Seamus was not surprised when he found out his son had released the leprechaun. Such foolishness was typical from him. Lillian hit her son with dish towel, screaming at how he could allow himself to be tricked by a leprechaun, when they were known for their deceit. Katie cried at the table that she would never be beautiful. As for the leprechaun, he laughed to himself as he imagined the family's reactions and danced a little jig as he disappeared into the grassy hills.
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