Fairies and Folk of Ireland | Page 7

fire to those who were colder.
The little money that we had saved helped us and some of our
neighbors. And we lived through it all.
"Better times came, though never again so good as the old. We worked
again and we saved a trifle. Then you were born to us, John. We had a
worse landlord now. He was of the kind that cared nothing for his
tenants and nothing for his land, but to get the last penny off it. The
rent was raised, and we never could have paid it but for the care and the
skill and the hard work of your father. And then, John, you know that
when you were hardly old enough to take his place with the work, let
alone knowing how to work as well as he, he died and left us--Heaven
rest his soul!"
For a long time the old woman said no more, and neither of the others
spoke. Then she said: "John, the country is in trouble enough and the
times are hard enough for you and for Kitty, here, and for all of us, I
know. But don't be cast down. There have been worse days than these;
there have been better days, too, and there will be better again."

[Illustration: ]
II
THE BIG POOR PEOPLE
There was a knock at the door, and John opened it. "God save all here
except the cat!" said a voice outside.
"God save you kindly!" John answered.
A young man and a young woman came in. They were
neighbors--Peter Sullivan and his wife, Ellen. "Good avenin' to you,
Pether," said John; "you're lookin' fine and hearty, and it's like a rose
you're lookin', Ellen."
"It's more like nettles than roses we're feelin'," Ellen answered, "but
something with prickles anyway, wid the bother we have every day and
all day."
"Thrue for you, it's hard times," said John; "we was speaking about
them just the minute before you came in; but we all have to bear them.
It's not you ought to complain, as long as you've good health; now
here's Kitty--I dunno how--"
"It's not the hard times I'm speakin' of now," said Ellen; "they're bad
enough, goodness knows; but it's the bother we have all the time, and
we can't tell how or why. Half the time the cow gives no milk, and
when she does, you can make no butther wid it. The pig, the crathur,
won't get fat; he ates everything he can reach, and still he looks like a
basket wid a skin over it. The smoke of the fire comes down the
chimney, the dishes are thrown on the floor, wid nobody near them,
and such noises are goin' on all night long that never a wink of sleep
can a body get. What we'll do at all if it goes on, I dunno."
"By all the books that ever was opened and shut," Peter added, "it's all
thrue what she says, and more. What wid all that and what wid the
throubles that's on the whole counthry, if I only had the money saved to

do it, I'ld lave it all to-morrow and go to the States--I would so."
"Leave off the things you do that make you all these troubles," said the
older Mrs. O'Brien, "and you'll have no more need to go to the States
than others."
"What things are them that we do?" Ellen asked.
"Haven't I told you before this," said Mrs. O'Brien, "that it's the Good
People that trouble you? If you'ld treat them well, as we do, they'ld
never bother you. If you'ld even take good care never to harm them, it's
likely they'ld never come near you."
"It's the fairies you're speakin' of," said Peter. "Sure I don't believe in
them at all. It's old woman's nonsense that your head's full of, savin'
your presence, Mrs. O'Brien. There's no fairies at all. Don't talk to me."
"You'ld better be more respectful to them, Peter," Mrs. O'Brien
answered. "Say less about not believing in them and don't call them by
that name, that they don't like. Call them 'the Good People' or 'the
gentry.' They don't like the name that you called them, any more than
they like those who disbelieve in them or those who try to know too
much about them. Speak well about them and treat them well, as we do,
and they'll not trouble you; maybe they'll even help you. Didn't you see,
as you came in, how we left something for them to eat and drink
outside the door there? We've not much, but they like fresh milk and
clean water, and we always give them these, and they hold nothing but
friendliness for us. Look and see now if they've taken what we