The Crock of Gold | Page 9

said Meehawl. "Did you ever-"
"I did not," said the Philosopher.
So Meehawl MacMurrachu went away and did as he had been bidden,
and underneath the tree of Gort na Cloca Mora he found a little crock
of gold.
"There's a power of washboards in that," said he.
By reason of this incident the fame of the Philosopher became even
greater than it had been before, and also by reason of it many singular
events were to happen with which you shall duly become acquainted.
CHAPTER IV
IT SO happened that the Leprecauns of Gort na Cloca Mora were not
thankful to the Philosopher for having sent Meehawl MacMurrachu to
their field. In stealing Meehawl's property they were quite within their
rights because their bird had undoubtedly been slain by his cat. Not
alone, therefore, was their righteous vengeance nullified, but the crock
of gold which had taken their community many thousands of years to
amass was stolen. A Leprecaun without a pot of gold is like a rose
without perfume, a bird without a wing, or an inside without an outside.
They considered that the Philosopher had treated them badly, that his
action was mischievous and unneighbourly, and that until they were
adequately con- pensated for their loss both of treasure and dignity, no
conditions other than those of enmity could exist between their people
and the little house in the pine wood. Furthermore, for them the
situation was cruelly com- plicated. They were unable to organise a
direct, per- sonal hostility against their new enemy, because the Thin
Woman of Inis Magrath would certainly protect her husband. She
belonged to the Shee of Croghan Cong- haile, who had relatives in
every fairy fort in Ireland, and were also strongly represented in the
forts and duns of their immediate neighbours. They could, of course,
have called an extraordinary meeting of the Sheogs, Leprecauns, and

Cluricauns, and presented their case with a claim for damages against
the Shee of Croghan Conghaile, but that Clann would assuredly
repudiate any liability on the ground that no member of their fraternity
was responsible for the outrage, as it was the Philo- sopher, and not the
Thin Woman of Inis Magrath, who had done the deed. Notwithstanding
this they were un- willing to let the matter rest, and the fact that justice
was out of reach only added fury to their anger.
One of their number was sent to interview the Thin Woman of Inis
Magrath, and the others concentrated nightly about the dwelling of
Meehawl MacMurrachu in an endeavour to recapture the treasure
which they were quite satisfied was hopeless. They found that Meehawl,
who understood the customs of the Earth Folk very well, had buried the
crock of gold beneath a thorn bush, thereby placing it under the
protection of every fairy in the world--the Leprecauns themselves in-
cluded, and until it was removed from this place by hu- man hands they
were bound to respect its hiding-place, and even guarantee its safety
with their blood.
They afflicted Meehawl with an extraordinary attack of rheumatism
and his wife with an equally virulent sciatica, but they got no lasting
pleasure from their groans.
The Leprecaun, who had been detailed to visit the Thin Woman of Inis
Magrath, duly arrived at the cot- tage in the pine wood and made his
complaint. The little man wept as he told the story, and the two
children wept out of sympathy for him. The Thin Woman said she was
desperately grieved by the whole unpleasant trans- action, and that all
her sympathies were with Gort na Cloca Mora, but that she must
disassociate herself from any responsibility in the matter as it was her
husband who was the culpable person, and that she had no control over
his mental processes, which, she concluded, was one of the seven
curious things in the world.
As her husband was away in a distant part of the wood nothing further
could be done at that time, so the Lepre- caun returned again to his
fellows without any good news, but he promised to come back early on
the following day. When the Philosopher come home late that night the

Thin Woman was waiting up for him.
"Woman," said the Philosopher, "you ought to be in bed."
"Ought I indeed?" said the Thin Woman. "I'd have you know that I'll go
to bed when I like and get up when I like without asking your or any
one else's permission."
"That is not true," said the Philosopher. "You get sleepy whether you
like it or not, and you awaken again without your permission being
asked. Like many other customs such as singing, dancing, music, and
acting, sleep has crept into popular favour as part of a religious cere-
monial. Nowhere can one