The Golden Spears | Page 7

he was galloping beneath the branches that
almost touched Connla's head. And on they went until they had passed
through the wood, and then they saw rising up before them the "Golden
Spear."
"Oh, Connla," said Nora, "we are at home at last."
"Yes," said Connla, "but where is the little house under the hill?"
And no little house was there; but in its stead was standing a lime-white
mansion.
"What can this mean?" said Nora.
But before Connla could reply, the steed had galloped up to the door of
the mansion, and, in the twinkling of an eye, Connla and Nora were
standing on the ground outside the door, and the steed had vanished.
Before they could recover from their surprise the little mother came
rushing out to them, and flung her arms around their necks, and kissed

them both again and again.
"Oh, children! children! You are welcome home to me; for though I
knew it was all for the best, my heart was lonely without you."
And Connla and Nora caught up the little mother in their arms, and
they carried her into the hall and set her down on the floor.
"Oh, Nora!" said the little mother, "you are a head over me; and as for
you, Connla, you look almost as tall as one of the round towers of
Erin."
"That's what the fairy queen said, mother," said Nora.
"Blessings on the fairy queen," said the little mother. "Turn round,
Connla, till I look at you."
Connla turned round, and the little mother said:
"Oh, Connla, with your golden helmet and your spear, and your
glancing shield, and your silken cloak, you look like a king. But take
them off, my boy, beautiful as they are. Your little mother would like to
see you, her own brave boy, without any fairy finery."
And Connla laid aside his spear and shield, and took off his golden
helmet and his silken cloak. Then he caught the little mother and kissed
her, and lifted her up until she was as high as his head. And said he:
"Don't you know, little mother, I'd rather have you than all the world."
And that night, when they were sitting down by the fire together, you
may be sure that in the whole world no people were half as happy as
Nora, Connla, and the little mother.

THE HOUSE IN THE LAKE[2]
A long, long time ago there lived in a little hut, in the midst of one of

the inland lakes of Erin, an old fisherman and his son. The hut was built
on stakes driven into the bed of the lake, and was so high above the
waters that even when they were stirred into waves by the wind coming
down from the mountains they did not reach the threshold of the door.
Around, outside the hut, on a level with the floor, was a little
wicker-work platform, and under the platform, close to the steps
leading up to it from the water, the fisherman's curragh, made of
willows, covered with skins, was moored, and it was only by means of
the curragh that he and his son, Enda, could leave their lake dwelling.
On many a summer evening Enda lay stretched on the platform,
watching the sunset fading from the mountain-tops, and the twilight
creeping over the waters of the lake, and it chanced that once when he
was so engaged he heard a rustle in a clump of sedge that grew close to
one side of the hut. He turned to where the sound came from, and what
should he see but an otter swimming towards him, with a little trout in
his mouth. When the otter came up to where Enda was lying, he lifted
his head and half his body from the water, and flung the trout on the
platform, almost at Enda's feet, and then disappeared.
Enda took the little panting trout in his hand; but as he did so he heard,
quite close to him, in the lake, a sound like that of water plashing upon
water, and he saw the widening circles caused by a trout which had just
risen to a fly; and he said to the little trout he held in his hand:
"I won't keep you, poor thing! Perhaps that was a little comrade come
to look for you, and so I'll send you back to him."
And saying this, he dropped the little trout into the lake.
Well, when the next evening came, again Enda was lying stretched
outside the hut, and once more he heard the rustle in the sedge, and
once more the otter came and flung the little trout almost into his
hands.
Enda, more surprised than ever, did not know what to do. He saw