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