A Clever Leprechaun - Irish Folktale

The Irish Island with its lush green hills is known for leprechauns, solitary fairies who are happy living on their own. They earn gold by making shoes for the Wee Folk. Leprechauns are full of mischief and deceit with their clever ways they trick humans who try to steal their treasures. In this story, a salmon poacher learns his lesson that wit is stronger than arrogance.

In the southwest corner of Ireland, not far away from Sneem village, in the fort of Lissaree once lived the most famous shoemaker of all leprechauns named Brohgawn. In his spacious underground chambers was hidden a secret room full of pots of gold.

He fashioned many shoes to the rich and famous in the fairy kingdom. The fairy queen was so pleased with her new pair of shoes that she presented Brohgawn with a magic silver-handled knife. This priceless knife helped the leprechaun create shoes much faster and without wasting any piece of leather.

Brohgawn could determine the exact size of person’s foot without taking any measurement. None of his shoe got wet inside and all of them had the most intricate designs.

The other leprechauns were envious of Brohgawn’s shoemaking ability. They tried to sneak many apprentices to learn the skills and reveal them to others, but the old leprechaun wouldn’t let himself to be tricked.

He liked working in the open air, but this wasn’t easy to avoid prying eyes. So he was forced to find secret places to work. His favorite one was along the Blackwater River in a secluded spot among the tall reeds.

One morning, as he hardly sat down to start his work hidden among the reeds, a salmon poacher grabbed him from behind and threatened him.

“Either you give me a pot of gold or I will roast you alive!”

“My good man,” calmly responded Brohgawn, “there is no need for rudness. I will gladly give you a pot of gold, which is hidden under a boulder just a mere stone's throw from here down the river.”

“I do not believe a single word you’re saying!” barked the poacher. “I will not release my grip until I see the shining gold!”

“Then hold me in your right hand as you already do and grab my knife with your left hand, which I need to release the gold from under the boulder.”

“Let’s not waste any more time!” shouted the poacher while grabbing the knife with his left hand.

When they reached the spot where the gold was hidden, the leprechaun stated.

“If you allow me to stand on the stone, I can quickly open a tiny crevice with one tap of the knife handle.”

“You will not trick me you little leprechaun!” yelled the poacher.

“You keep offending me and there is no need for this,” calmly responded Brohgawn. “Then why don’t you step on the stone with me and I will show you the spot to tap.”

The fisherman spoke through his teeth with his jaws clenched, “This is your last chance.”

They climbed the large rock and the leprechaun pointed to a spot covered with green moss. It was still early morning. The rock was a bit slippery covered with dew. Moss made it even worse. As Brohgawn predicted, when the fisherman clumsily turned the knife with his left hand to tap with the knife’s handle, the blade of the knife had pierced his palm of his hand, causing him to writhe in agony and fall headlong from the rock. His head bumped the trunk of a linden tree, leaving him temporarily stunned. Meanwhile Brohgawn grabbed his knife and ran off.

When he reached his place safely, he murmured to himself.

“Such an adventure is not good for the heart, but it does make a good story.”

 

Source: The King with Horse’s Ears and Other Irish Folktales by Batt Burns

Paying the Rent - Irish Folktale

On the island of Ireland, located in the western part of Europe, among its lush green hills once lived peasants who had a great love of their land and were resentful to pay high rents to selfish English landlords, who lived lavishly. Failure to pay the rent meant families were driven out of their homes, while their thatched mud-walled hovels were leveled to the ground. For many families in the 19^th century, the only thing that saved them from eviction was the arrival of money from America. The Irish Potato Famine of the 19^th century caused a massive immigration to the US. Those who left in Ireland were awaiting money from America from the relatives.

Crohan O’Sullivan as a child had heard stories of the Great Famine when the potato crop failed and many people starved to death. Now his mind was filled with worry as his family had fallen on hard times.

As March approached, he found his supply of potatoes running short. The following month, he realized that he wouldn’t be able to pay the next month rent. He was forced to contact his older brother who emigrated to New York ten years earlier.

When the third week of April was nearing the end and Crohan and his wife Mary had not heard back from his brother, they started fearing the worst.

In the last week of April, as Crohan was working in the woods catching rabbits, he heard postman calling his name, “A letter for you, from America.”

Within seconds Crohan snatched the letter from the postman and opened it. There it was, one hundred dollars inside. Tears welled up in his eyes. He put the money back inside the envelope, which he carefully folded and put inside his tattered waistcoat. He laid the waistcoat beside a dead rabbit on the ground. He had one more task to perform. He rushed to cut some twigs for the fire to roast the rabbit.

While he reached to cut the first twig with his penknife, a giant eagle swooped low and snatched the dead rabbit.

Crohan rushed after the eagle to see that the bird snatched not only the rabbit but also his waistcoat, which somehow got entangled in its claws. His shouts of panic echoed in the valley as the eagle flew out of sight over the hills. He shed many tears on his way home. And many more while telling the story to his wife.

Soon word of Crohan’s misfortune spread among the neighbors. Even the parish priest talked about it from the pulpit at Mass. When the story reached a sheep farmer living in a remote mountain glen, he rushed to the distraught Crohan family. “I saw an eagle flying to its nest on a high cliff with a piece of clothing it its claws, but I couldn’t tell for sure from distance whether or not it was a waistcoat.”

The same afternoon several neighbors gathered with Crohan on the top of a steep cliff. The men lowered Crohan in a wicker basket slowly releasing ropes attached to basket. With his pike, he steered the basket toward the huge nest containing seven large eggs. Right there in a clump of ferns directly beneath the nest, he spotted his waistcoat. He snagged the waistcoat with his pike and shouted at the men to pull him up.

As soon as Crohan was standing at the top of the cliff he looked for the envelope in his waistcoat. And there it was, one hundred dollars. A smile appeared on his face dotted with tears in his eyes out of joy.

The men patted Crohan on both shoulders. “You got it back.”

“Thank you my dear friends for your help,” responded Crohan.

“What are friends for,” cheered the men.

From that day forward, Crohan and his family prospered, and never again had difficulty with paying rent.

Later that week, he wrote back to his brother, thanking for his generosity and telling him the story. With time, the regular correspondence brought both brothers very close.

 

Source: The King with Horse’s Ears and Other Irish Folktales by Batt Burns