The Field of Ragweed
They say that in Ireland you will enjoy all four seasons in a day, but on this day the four seasons were high and glorious summer, or so it seemed to Tom Fitzpatrick as he walked along a narrow road between two tall hedges in harvest time. As he walked, he chanced to hear a strange ringing like a tiny bell, and he paused, puzzled as to what it might be. Perhaps a calf had strayed and gotten stuck, he thought, and he peered sharply into the bushes to see what he could see.
Well, it was no calf that greeted him but in a nearby corner of the hedge a great wooden mug, almost as tall as the little old man sitting on a stool beside it! The man himself was small as a child, wearing a mottled leather apron and with a little red hat on his head, cocked jaunty-wise, and he tip-tapped on the heel of a shoe laid before him, stopping occasionally to sup from the enormous mug.
“Well,” said Tom to himself, “I never believed in all my life I'd ever see the likes of this! For what is it but a leprechaun, just as my granny used to talk about after a taste of the good stuff! If I keep my wits about me, I'm a made man.”
So he crept up and crept in, eyes fixed on the little fellow, and he said over his shoulder, “God bless your work, my friend!”
The little man looked up and said “Well and thanks to you for the blessing, but better not to mention Himself!”
“Aren't you working hard for the weekend,” said Tom.
“That's my own business,” came the reply.
“Well tell me then since we're chatting, what do you have in that huge mug beside you.”
“What else but beer!” said the little man.
“But where did you come by that much beer in this hedge?” asked Tom wonderingly.
“Why I made it, of course, and what do you think I made it from?” asked the little man with a knowing look on his face.
“I'm no brewer,” said Tom, “but I reckon its made of malt and hops!”
“You missed your kick there my friend,” said the little man, “for it is made out of grass and fresh green leaves!”
Tom burst out laughing and asked who'd ever heard of such a thing.
“Believe it if you like,” said the little man, “but my father's father learned the trick from the Old People of Ireland, and they have given the secret to myself alone.”
“Is there any chance of a sup,” said Tom, “for I've a keen thirst on me this hot day.”
“More fit for you, young man,” replied the leprechaun, “if you keep an eye on your father's land instead of bothering decent quiet folk about their own business! See, look the cows have broken into the oats and are eating their fill.”
Almost then did Tom look around but just in time he caught himself, remembering that you should never take your eyes off the little folk or they'd be gone, so instead he made a grab for the man and took hold of his apron! But in his haste he knocked over the huge mug and never got a taste, for all that spilled out was leaves and grass.
Angry now, Tom raised up the little man to his own height and swore he'd do him a wicked mischief if he wasn't led to a pot of gold as quick as you like. Frightened, the leprechaun led him to an enormous field of ragweed, and pointed to a large stalk.
“That's the one,” he said, “dig beneath that and you'll find a pot of rich gold the size of your own head twice over, that would have a pirate singing!” But Tom had no shovel and the earth was hard packed, so he took off a red ribbon from his clothes and tied it around the ragweed.
“Mind you don't touch that now, nor the weed either,” he pointed a threatening finger at the little man, “while I go back and get a shovel! If you promise me this, you can go.”
“You have my word,” said the little man, “go and get your shovel, and much good may it do you.”
So Tom ran like the wind and fetched a good shovel from his house, but when he got back to the field of ragweed what did he find but every weed in the entire field had a red ribbon tied about it, the very same as his own. He had no notion of digging up the entire field, for it was forty long acres if it was an inch, so back home he went, slower than he'd left it, and blackened the air with curses at the leprechaun's turn.
Below on the map is marked near to a leprechaun pub, or so some say. While you're enjoying this site you might also enjoy a little Celtic and Irish music to set the mood, or just the one or two songs if you're not interested in the whole albums. Don't forget you can get some very nice Irish jewelry for yourself or someone else as well, or for the craftier maybe make your own!
Further Folk and Faerie Tales of Ireland
||The Three Sons|
Times were hard in Ireland back years ago, and while some might say they've had it tough today, it was not a patch on the hardships people endured in times gone by. And so it was with Michael McGovern, a poor farmer with hardly an acre of stony soil to rent, who looked upon his three young sons with love for the life of them and fear for their ... [more]
There was a prince in Ireland a long, long time ago, back when Ireland still had princes, and O'Donall was his name. A brave fellow he was, and powerful, but given to risk and heedless thrills in his hunting and leaping and running and swimming, all the better to impress his friends. He was lord of a wide land, and he wasn't hard on the poo ... [more]
||The Dark Valley|
A woman was out one day looking after her sheep in the valley, and coming by a little stream she sat down to rest, when suddenly she seemed to hear the sound of low music, and turning round, beheld at some distance a crowd of people dancing and making merry. And she grew afraid and turned her head away not to see them. Then close by her stood a you ... [more]
||The Field of Ragweed|
They say that in Ireland you will enjoy all four seasons in a day, but on this day the four seasons were high and glorious summer, or so it seemed to Tom Fitzpatrick as he walked along a narrow road between two tall hedges in harvest time. As he walked, he chanced to hear a strange ringing like a tiny bell, and he paused, puzzled as to what it migh ... [more]
||The Taking of Connla|
Connla of the Fiery Hair was one of the sons of Conn of the Hundred Battles, and his favourite son, a swift and agile warrior with a voice that could make the mountains tremble. Himself and his father climbed the heights of Usna on Samhain, when he saw coming towards them a slender maiden of great beauty, clad in strange clothes.
“Where do ... [more]
||The Horned Witches|
Strange are the ways of the Fairies of Ireland, and strange the look about them, but for all their wild and untamed manner they follow rules written in the ripples of willow-branches on still ponds, and laws murmured by the echo of birdsong in deep wells.
Once there was a woman sitting in her cottage, a humble enough abode, and she was making wo ... [more]
There are many types of fairy in Ireland, some more risky than others, and some to be avoided due to their habits rather than out of any particular malevolence. Such a one is the Gan Ceanach, whose name means “Without Love”.
Although you might think such a title would indicate a friendless creature of a lonely nature lacking in socia ... [more]
There are a great many raths or fairy forts of old scattered throughout Ireland today, numbering in the tens of thousands, and it is here, the wise say, that the good people or fairy folk gather to hold their revels.
Nobody would dare to cross, let alone build on a fairy dwelling in the past, marking as they did the boundary between our civilise ... [more]
||The Tragedy of Cairn Thierna|
Near to the town of Fermoy in Ireland lies the great stack of Cairn Thierna, not as wide about nor as tall as some mountains perhaps but feared and respected by the local people nonetheless. For all around it and along its flanks are tall heaps of stones they say are the work of the fairy folk, or the old people who lived here long ago.
And you ... [more]
||Stairs of the Giant|
On the road going down to Cork there's an old set of four walls that used to once be called Ronayne's Court. Although there's little enough to see of it nowadays still the stack of the chimneys stands proud, and on it can be seen the coat of arms of the family that built it and used to live there.
They were a fine couple and had one ... [more]
It was known in times past in Ireland that there were men and women who could talk to the fairies, ask favours from them, and even live among them, and some used this acquaintance to work their will on the world, for good or for ill. Most famous, perhaps, among these people were the fairy healers of old.
Biddy Early is the best known of their ki ... [more]
||A Bride for the Fairy|
James Mac Neill was as strapping a young fellow as you could hope to meet, and likely with it. Never did he walk away from a tussle or a drink, and never far from his hand was his shillelagh. He had no fears save the lacking of a pint, no cares except for who would pay for it, and not a thought in his head but how to have fun after it.
One cold ... [more]
||The Rocks of Knockfierna|
Maurice Mulreaney was well known for travelling about the countryside without fear of anything living or otherwise, as quick to cross a graveyard or fairy mound as you or I would be to cross the street, for he didn't believe in that which he couldn't see with his own two eyes or touch with his own two hands, and he didn't bother with ol ... [more]
||An Unexpected Guest|
It wasn't a bad life for Fergus O'Hara in Owenmore, for all that himself and his wife Rose had little, the little they had was enough for them. Some goats, pigs and poultry ranged far and wide about their few acres, and a field of oats and potatoes kept them busy for the harvest and brought in a few pennies.
It so happened that there lay ... [more]
In many cultures those that used to be called insane held a special place of reverence, and were treated almost as envoys from another place, or as though they could see something nobody else could, or were dancing to music only they could hear and the rest of us were deaf to. From far-off India and China to more familiar shores people would doff t ... [more]
||The Hunchback of Knockgrafton|
The children of De Danann once ruled the island of Ireland, before they departed back to their own lands in the farthest west or went below the earth in their fairy mounds to dance and sing forevermore, but if you're lucky – or unlucky! – you might still come across them in the wild places and those deep forests yet untouched.
An ... [more]
||Aoibhell Fairy Queen of Love|
Some of the Sidhe in times of old would take a fondness for one particular family, protecting it and helping it rise in the world, and so it was with the O'Briens, who were known as the Dál gCais, or the Dalcassians. Their fairy guardian was called Aoibhell, whose name means burning ardour or beauty, depending on who you ask.
She had ... [more]
While most people nowadays believe fairies to be gentle creatures, prone to mischief perhaps and capricious by their natures yet well intended for all that, in Ireland they have a more sinister reputation. Some say, and some still believe, that the fairies will take small children and young people, leaving in their place creatures known as changeli ... [more]
||The Calf of Knockshegowna|
It's well known among those who know of such things that fairies love to dance more than anything else, and they take it ill should anything interfere with their merriment. And if someone wanted to spoil a dance, they could come up with few better ways of doing so than to send a herd of cattle wandering through!
The hill atop Knockshegowna w ... [more]
The cheerful Leprechaun is about as well known an emblem of Ireland as you could want, but what truth lies behind the stories? Well the truth is nobody really knows the truth, for leprechauns are are a cagey bunch at the best of times, not prone to gossip or holding forth on the important events of the day or the local hurling results, even after a ... [more]