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XXVI THE MAKER OF BROGUES

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there was a young lad travelling the road to a fair, and he passed convenient to a field had a sand pit in the middle of it. what did he see, sitting up in that place with his legs dangling over the edge of the pit, only a little wee man making brogues. the lad took one lep into the field and he walked up to the cobbler.

“good-morning, mister!” says he. “might i make so bold as to ask what work you are doing this hour of the morning dew, and what makes you fancy the edge of a pit for a seat?”

“’tis making brogues i am,” says the leprachaun, “and they for the good people’s wear.” [204]

“i’m thinking you’re watching a treasure,” says the lad.

“i’m not,” says the leprachaun. “but i know where there’s plenty hid.”

“you be to discover it for me,” says the lad.

“let you wait till this one pair of brogues is made,” says the fairy.

so the lad agreed and he sat down to watch him at work.

“begob,” says he, “i never seen any person could hammer in nails such a rate.”

“it’s a slow worker i’m counted in these parts,” says the leprachaun. “let you look down into the pit at the man is cobbling below. i warrant it’s three nails he’s driving for each one of mine.”

the lad looked over the edge.

“there is no man in it at all!” says he.

with that the leprachaun let a laugh.

“there is not,” says he.

“there’s a sore chastisement waiting on you for deceiving me,” answers the other.

but when he stood on his feet and looked round wasn’t the leprachaun gone.

“i’m the fool of the whole wide world,” says the lad, and he travelled away to the fair.

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