Long ago in the days when the Tuatha De Dannon (peoples of the goddess Danu) invaded Ireland and conquered the people known as Fir Bolg, creatures known as Leprechauns became prevalent throughout the land. Some think they were the result of the union between an evil spirit and a fairy. I tend to agree with that theory for we all know that leprechauns are neither wholly evil nor are they wholly good, but one fact is undeniable. They are extremely mischievous. Wherever they came from and however they got there is not as important as the realization that they do exist. Now that I have established that, I shall begin my story which revolves around one particular leprechaun known as Bailey O’Taters.
Bailey was a wee bit taller than the usual leprechaun, but that’s not to say he was as tall as a human man. No, he was about the size of a yardstick. There was no way of calculating his actual age because he had no idea how old he was and since his face always appeared deeply creased with wrinkles it was impossible to think of him in any other terms than ancient. His eyes betrayed him, though, because they were an intense shade of blue and twinkled with youthfulness. His hair and beard matched in a flaming red color and no sign of white or gray hairs showed throughout. He never behaved as one full of years, no, Bailey was spritely in all of his movements and it would be difficult for any mortal man to keep up with him. He dressed in fine style as is the case of most leprechauns. He wore a long, emerald green jacket that sported seven rows of ornate, gold buttons and each of the seven rows consisted of seven buttons. This may not have proved to be the best fashion choice because it gave away a secret he should have taken greater care to guard, but I shall talk about that issue in more detail later in our story. Bailey’s hat was also emerald and it sat atop his red hair like a big cone which accentuated his tiny pointed ears that jutted out from his head. His pants were green, too, and he wore shiny black shoes with large gold buckles. Completing his ensemble was a dazzling golden sword which could also be used as a magic wand when needed.
Bailey was something of a solitary, reclusive sort and didn’t entertain at all. He wouldn’t tell a soul where he lived. His only real contact with people came through his occupation. Bailey chose to spend his days as a cobbler. He went from house to house fixing shoes for people and collecting gold coins for his work. Since this went on for so many years, some folks wondered what he was doing with all of these coins, but he flatly refused to discuss the matter. He just went about repairing shoes. He wore a leather cobbler’s apron and tapped on new soles or heels and ignored the intrusive questions of his customers. He occasionally looked out over his gold rimmed spectacles perched on the end of his nose and grinned at their foolishness. Of course, he found many clever ways to trick them out of more gold coins or other goods. He was quite fond of potatoes or taters as he called them, so he was not above stealing them from the local farms.
Now this brings us to Farmer O’Sullivan. He through the years had many dealings with Bailey and always thought he wound up on the short end of the stick. He knew the leprechaun stole his potatoes right out of the field and that he pulled all sorts of malicious little pranks to top everything off. He had gotten more than one hoe handle between the eyes and more than one bucket of cold water over the head. It was no mystery to the farmer who the source of the mischief was. He also noticed something else intriguing about the leprechaun. He wore a rich looking jacket with rows of fancy gold buttons, gold rimmed spectacles, gold buckles on his shoes, and even a gold watch and fob which he kept in a jacket pocket.
Because of what he saw, Farmer O’Sullivan decided one day to follow the leprechaun to see where he lived. This is where the mystery begins to deepen.
Farmer O’Sullivan followed Bailey as he left his farm after repairing a pair of his boots. The farmer watched as the leprechaun almost disappeared down the road and then he began following him from a distance in hopes that Bailey wouldn’t notice. The wee man was moving fast considering how short his legs were and although O’Sullivan stood six foot seven inches tall and had great long legs, he couldn’t begin to keep up. The leprechaun ran tirelessly over hill and dale as though he didn’t have a care in the world, while the farmer lagged behind huffing and puffing in near exhaustion. Finally, O’ Sullivan lost sight of him as he went over the crest of a hill. The big man considered turning around and heading back home, but he forced himself to push on. He began to trot up the hill and as he reached the apex, he saw Bailey running toward a large earthen mound with a small door in it. The leprechaun looked over his shoulder at O’Sullivan, opened the tiny door, and darted in out of sight.
The farmer was tired, so he slowed down to a walk and as he got closer, he saw smoke rising from a chimney protruding from the top of the mound. O’Sullivan became excited because he thought he had found the leprechaun’s dwelling place, so he crept closer and tried not to make any noise. He learned from talking with neighboring farmers that if you caught a leprechaun, he must grant you three wishes, so O’Sullivan was determined to capture Bailey. He tried turning the knob on the door, but it wouldn’t open.
Then he thought he smelled the aroma of potato soup wafting up the chimney, so the farmer became certain that it must be the wee man’s home. He didn’t know how to make Bailey come out of his house, so he could grab him, but he sat down on a boulder nearby to think it over. He came to a quick conclusion. He took off his coat and stuffed the sleeves down the little chimney. Soon the door of the earthen mound swung open and smoke poured out. O’Sullivan rushed to the door, got down on his hands and knees and stuck his head and one arm inside to see if Bailey was there. He couldn’t see through the thick smoke, but he felt around with his hand and discovered that the house was vacant. He continued groping about and found an open trap door in the floor, so he knew the wily, wee man had escaped.
The farmer tried to back out of the house, but he was stuck fast. He was coughing violently from the smoke and all of a sudden he received a sharp kick in the rear which made him yelp with pain. Then the entire earthen mound disappeared and he saw Bailey standing a few yards away waving his golden sword in the air and muttering some strange words that sounded like mumbo-jumbo to O’Sullivan, but they were obviously magic.
Bailey leaped up on a nearby stone wall and before the astonished O’Sullivan’s eyes, he stood on his head with just the pointed tip of his cone hat touching the wall. Then he began to spin around and wave his feet in the air as he laughed uproariously. Finally he jumped down from the wall, looked at the farmer and said, “Don’t ye be followin’ me again, ye big oaf. Next time it’ll go much worse for ye. I’ll be on me way now that I’ve had me fun.”
Bailey ran off singing a happy tune until he went out of sight and poor O’Sullivan was too weak and worn out to pursue him. The dejected farmer went back home, but he didn’t plan to give up that easily. He was more convinced than ever that the leprechaun could be captured. All he needed to do was devise a better strategy for catching him and he was determined to come up with one. He thought about it for days and days, but was still unsure how to proceed, especially since he hadn’t seen Bailey anywhere.
He went into the village to buy a few necessities and to inquire about the leprechaun. He made his purchases at the market and as he was leaving he asked the storekeeper, if he knew where Bailey might be working.
He said, “Do ye know the whereabouts o’ Bailey? I need the wee chap to fix a pair o’ the missus’s shoes.”
“Nah, I hain’t seen the sprite in a fortnight, O’Sullivan, but ye might ask at the grist mill. One o’ them what works there might could tell ye,” stated the storekeeper.
“Thanks all the same. I’ll be on me way,” said O’Sullivan.
On his way home, he met a little maid skipping down the road in his direction. He asked,“Ain’t you little Mary McPhee?”
“I am she,”answered the child.
“Have ye seen a wee cobbler man of late?” asked O’Sullivan.
“Why yes sir, I have at that,” said she.
“Where have ye seen him?”
“He’s at me house right now fixing me Da’s shoes,” stated Mary with a smile.
“Thank you, child,” said the farmer with a sly grin.
“Is that all ye be wantin’ ta know?” she asked.
“That’s all and it’s enough,” answered O’Sullivan.
The girl skipped off toward the market and the farmer walked on toward the McPhee place. When he arrived, Mr. McPhee was in the field hoeing his rows of potatoes. O’Sullivan felt a stab of conscience at the sight because he knew he should be doing the same, but instead he was too busy obsessing about a way to bag the leprechaun. He shoved the feeling aside and strode up to McPhee who barely bothered to look up from his work.
He said, “I saw your wee, dear Mary on me way here and she happened to say ye’d seen Bailey, the leprechaun cobbler. Is that so, McPhee?”
“Tis so, the child don’t lie, O’Sullivan, as ye well know. What would ye be wantin’ with Bailey?” asked McPhee suspiciously.
“Oh, nothin’much, I wuz just wonderin’ where he went, that’s all. I be needin’ a pair o’boots re-heeled,” answered O’Sullivan evasively.
McPhee pointed off in a westerly direction and stated, “He went that way not moren’five minutes ago. He finished up his repairs on me shoes and lit out across the meadow. If you be quick about it, ye might catch up with ‘im.”
O’Sullivan departed in search of the little man without even thanking or saying good-bye to McPhee who watched him leave and shook his head in disgust at his rudeness. O'Sullivan ran through the meadow carrying his sack of supplies he bought earlier at the market with him. It was a rather large burlap sack and the further he ran, the heavier the sack seemed. Not only was it heavy, it was slowing down his progress. He stopped in the middle of the meadow and dumped out the contents of the bag onto the ground. As he looked at his now empty sack, an idea began to form in his mind. Then he stooped to paw through the items he had shaken out of the bag and found a large ball of heavy twine. He grabbed up the twine, the sack, and hurried on. It was much easier traveling without all that extra weight, so he moved faster.
The farmer crossed the expansive meadow and entered the forest that bordered onto it. He stopped and peered about wondering which way to go in order to find Bailey. There was no way to tell where the leprechaun went, so O’Sullivan sat down under a large oak to rest and mull over what his next move should be. As he sat there propped up against the oak with the warm sunshine filtering through its leaves, he nodded off to sleep. He didn’t realize that on the opposite side of the great tree was the door to Bailey’s home. He was also unaware that the leprechaun was peeping at him through a small hole while he continued to nap.
When O’Sullivan awoke, he found Bailey standing on his legs and grinning up into his eyes. The leprechaun had taken the ball of twine and used it to lash O’Sullivan securely to the tree.
Bailey said,“When are ye goin’ to get it through that thick head? I told ye not to be botherin’ me ye dumb ox. I’ve tied ye to this tree and the last thing ye’ll see is me ugly mug laughin’ in yer face.”
Before O’Sullivan could utter a word of protest, the wee man shoved a rag in his mouth and hauled the sack on over his head. The more the farmer struggled, the more the leprechaun laughed. Bailey ran off further into the forest and before he completely went out of sight, he turned, unsheathed his sword, waved it aloft, muttered a magic phrase, laughed again and dodged out of view.
The sack that was over the farmer’s head disappeared, along with the rag that was jammed in his mouth, and the twine that held him to the oak tree was gone, too. O’Sullivan scratched his head and wondered how the leprechaun had gotten the best of him again. He should have been grateful that the wee man let him off so easy, but he wasn’t. He was angry and vowed he’d get the leprechaun and the wishes or die trying.
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| Mound house similar to the one in this story |
O’Sullivan returned to the spot where he dumped the items from his burlap sack earlier and picked up what he could manage to hold in his arms. He left the rest of his supplies on the ground and trudged off for home. By the time he made it there, it was getting dark outside. When he went through his front door, he was in an ugly mood and ranted at his wife for not having his supper on the table. He threw down the items he had bought at the market and bellowed for his children to put them away. Then he sat in his rocking chair by the fire to brood about how he could apprehend Bailey O’Taters. If and when he did grab him, he planned to give the wee man a good, sound thrashing for all the misery he had put him through.
His wife hurried to put supper on the table to avoid hearing her husband's haranguing words. O’Sullivan sat down to eat his meal in grumpy silence. The children knew better than to speak, so they were quiet, too. They were becoming used to seeing their father in a cantankerous state. The farmer’s wife was sick and tired of his attitude. He was slacking off in his chores and it was beginning to show. Things were falling into disrepair, but when she mentioned it to her husband, he called her a nag. He was so preoccupied with catching Bailey that it was all he thought about. He kept promising her that as soon as he got the leprechaun everything would be coming up shamrocks. He said their luck would change because Bailey would be forced to grant him three wishes. He said he had it all figured out and knew exactly what to wish for, but she had her doubts.
The next day O’Sullivan got up early, ate his porridge, and went out the door without kissing his wife or telling her where he was going. She watched from the window and sighed when she saw him coming out of the barn carrying a big butterfly net. She shook her head and muttered, “This’ll be more trouble for sure. He’s after that blasted leprechaun again today and there be no tellin’ what’ll happen.”
O’Sullivan strode off toward where he had seen the earthen mound. He hoped that the hut would have reappeared, but when he arrived it was still nowhere to be seen. The stone wall was there and as solid as ever, so he decided to hide behind it on the side facing the forest. He figured that should the leprechaun happen by that way, he could lunge out and capture him in the net. He waited for hours, but everything was quiet and no one neither big nor small passed by. The farmer nearly gave up, but then he heard the sound of someone whistling, so he stealthily peered over the wall. Sure enough, it was Bailey and he was headed straight for the wall carrying a little black pot with a handle. O’Sullivan ducked down so the wee man wouldn’t spot him. He waited until the whistling sounded like it was on the other side of the stone wall and then he sprang into action. He jumped to his feet and there was the leprechaun standing on the wall looking him straight in the eye with a devilish grin on his face. The farmer swung the net at him, but he was so close that the net went past him. Bailey whipped out his sword and it glinted in the bright rays of the sun which blinded O’Sullivan and caused him to stagger back. He almost fell to the ground.
Bailey waved the sword and uttered his magic incantation. When he finished, he put the sword back in its sheath and laughed wildly. He said, “Yer not too bright O’Sullivan. When will ye stop yer madness and leave me alone?”
The farmer yelled, “I ain’t leaving ye be ‘til I nab ye and force ye to give me three wishes!”
O’Sullivan was going to make a run for Bailey, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t seem to pick his big feet up from the ground.
Bailey hooted and laughed. He said, “Take a gander at yer feet ye block head.”
The farmer looked down at his feet and gasped in horror. They had become two huge blocks of granite. No wonder, he couldn’t lift them. They appeared to be coming out of the ground as though his feet were a part of the earth.
The leprechaun said, “Ye’ll not be bothering me no more today. Now ye have block feet to match yer big, block head.”
Bailey turned to leave to O’Sullivan’s loud protests. He pleaded, “Have a heart, ye evil, wee sprite. Ye mustn’t be leavin’ me here this way. How will I be goin’home? I could starve ta death.”
“No worries, big man,” said Bailey, “The spell be wearin’ off come mornin’ and ye’ll be yer rotten ol’ self once more, so long for now.”
O’Sullivan spent a miserable night outside. The sky clouded over and the stars went out of sight. It began to rain steadily and since his granite feet came straight up out of the ground, he had to stand there all night. He was soaked to the hide and chilled to the bone by the time the new day dawned. As soon as the sun peeked up over the horizon, the rain stopped abruptly. The farmer stared down at his feet and they had turned back to normal just as the leprechaun said. He was somewhat relieved because he could go home, but he was uncommonly mad at Bailey. He stooped down, picked up his butterfly net, and started walking home.
When he went through the door, his wife ran to meet him. She said, “Where have ye been? I been sick with worry and look at ye, yer soaked to the skin and shakin’ like a leaf on a tree.”
He told her his story about what happened and she shook her head in disgust. She waved him aside and said, “Ye best be gettin’ outta them wet garments afore ye catch yer death of peemonia. Go on now and don some dry clothes, whilst I stoke the fire and put the kettle on for a wee spot o’ tea.”
For once, O’Sullivan did as he was told. He dried out and wrapped himself in a blanket. He came and sat by the fire while his dear wife waited on him hand and foot.
She said, “There be one small tidbit o’ news ye should be knowin’ ‘bout last night, dearest.”
“And what would that be?” asked O’Sullivan meekly.
“We had nary a drop o’ rain here last night,” she intimated.
Her husband looked at her in surprise. “That be odd, darlin’. It was pourin’ where I wuz. It has to be the fault o’ that Bailey O’Taters. The vile creature is out ta git me for sure.”
“Ye best be leavin’the leprechaun alone from now on deary. There be no tellin’ what lengths he’ll be willin’ ta go ta git ye outn’ his hair,” said his wife sagely.
“I ain’t never quittin’. I’ll git him or my name ain’t Shamus O’Sullivan.”
He came down with a fever later that morning and spent several days shivering and shaking in his bed. His wife hoped that when he got better he would give up his insane quest and go back to work on their farm. His fever broke and so did her heart for as soon as he was up and about, he went right back at it.
O’Sullivan was still feeling a bit shaky, but he went out the door with fresh determination. He walked straight and tall as though his spine was made from an iron rod. He went to the barn, grabbed up a huge cudgel, and stormed off to again pursue the leprechaun. This time he went back to the meadow where he had fallen asleep against the large oak tree. It took some looking around because he had forgotten the tree’s precise location. It seemed to O’Sullivan that the fever addled his mind and that he wasn’t thinking straight, but he finally discovered the oak tree and felt sure it was the correct one. Today the big man didn’t sit down to rest at the base of the tree. Instead, he walked around it warily and to his immense pleasure he saw the door to Bailey’s real abode. He got down on his knees and put his ear up to the door to have a listen in hopes of hearing the wee man inside. He was thrilled beyond measure, when he heard the leprechaun singing a merry tune. He listened closely, but couldn’t make out the words.
O’ Sullivan rapped on the little door and dashed around the tree out of sight to wait for Bailey to answer his knock. The leprechaun failed to come out, but his singing increased in volume and intensity. The song was something about a big man and a stump, but still the farmer couldn’t decipher the exact meaning. He crept around to the door again and pounded loudly this time to make sure Bailey heard it. He whizzed back out of sight to wait with his cudgel poised. He heard a rustling sound behind him and when he turned about, there was the wee sprite glaring with his sword drawn.
O’Sullivan swung the cudgel with great force, but the leprechaun already began to intone a curse upon him as his tiny sword sliced the air, so it was too late for the farmer again. Bailey turned him into a massive stump, shoved his sword back in the sheath and then jumped on top and danced a lively jig. Although he was small, his dancing gave O’Sullivan a splitting headache and he begged the leprechaun to stop tormenting him, but Bailey only laughed and danced all the more showing the farmer no mercy whatsoever. Finally, he did a double back flip and landed on his little feet. He grinned at the stump which for all the world looked like O’Sullivan and stated, “Ye’ve taxed me patience to the limit O’Sullivan and I shan’t be bearin’ with yer lunacy much longer. This time out ye’ll be a stump for a week afore the curse be wearin’ off, so how ye be likin’ that?”
O’Sullivan replied, “Ye nearly kilt me last time. I came down with a dreadful, fierce fever and almost died. Have ye no mercy? Set me free and I’ll be botherin’ ye no more.”
“I don’t trust the likes o’ ye O’Sullivan. Nah, I’m gonna make ye pay. Ye ain’t dun a lick o’work about yer place anyway, so a week more ain’t goin’ to matter none, but I be tellin’ ye this: Don’t ye pester me after this ‘cause me usual good nature has worn right thin. I’ve had it with ye. Do ye be understandin’ me meanin’?” said Bailey angrily.
The big stump man refused to answer, so the leprechaun shook his head, pulled a handful of gold dust from his pocket, and tossed it up toward the sky. He said, “House o’ mine be gone from here and house of O’Sullivan disappear. Me house will appear far away, while his won’t see the light o’ day.”
The entire oak tree was ripped up roots and all from the ground by a huge hand that came out of the sky. The hand carried it off out of sight, while O’Sullivan stood there watching unable to move. He began to weep and wail. He asked, “What be the meanin’ of the dreadful curse ye uttered a moment ago? What did ye say about me house disappearin’ ye evil, leprechaun hooligan?”
Bailey laughed and replied, “I wouldn’t be insultin’ me, if I wuz you. Ye’ll see me meanin’ when the week’s up, Stumpy. Maybe then ye’ll be leavin’ me be.”
The leprechaun raised his tiny arms and twirled around. Tiny glittery wings appeared in the middle of his back. Then he tipped his hat to O’Sullivan and flew away.
The farmer resigned himself to spending a week as a stump. It didn’t prove to be as bad as before because the rainy season had passed and it wasn’t too cold. It was difficult to be stuck in one place for so long, but it gave him time to think. He thought long and hard about what O’Taters said. He was upset and rightly so about the curse the leprechaun put on his house and wondered how his family was faring now that they were not only homeless, but without the man of the house, too. The more he contemplated it, though, he figured that it was high time for his luck to change and he plotted new ways to get the best of Bailey once and for all.
After O’Sullivan’s one week stump imprisonment expired, he turned back into himself as O’Taters had predicted, so he hurried off to his home to see if what the leprechaun said about his house disappearing had come to pass, too. Sure enough, the house had vanished completely, but he found his family living in a makeshift house they set up in the barn. His wife was upset and angry when he told her the reason for their house disappearing.
She stated,“I knew in me heart it had somethin’ ta do with you and yer crazy wasted efforts at catchin’ Bailey O’Taters. Now we’re out a home ‘cause o’ it. When will ye ever be learnin’ to knock if off?”
O’Sullivan answered, “I told ye afore I ain’t givin’ up, Katherine. Why didn’t ye send out a search party ta find me? Wasn’t ye the teeniest bit worried when I didn’t show up fer days?”
“Not after what happened afore. I figured ye managed to ire the leprechaun and he did somethin’ worse ta ye. I knew ye’d be back in time,” she said angrily.
“Aint’ you just filled ta the brim with love and compassion,” stated O’Sullivan sarcastically.
“Ye brought it on yerself and now ye’ve brought punishment down on yer own dear family. Ain’t ye even a wee bit ashamed?” asked his wife.
“No, I ain’t ashamed ‘cause it’s all gonna turn ‘round as soon as I get me hands on ‘im. I’ll be getting’ me wishes and we’ll have our house back. Ye’ll see,” answered her husband in his best convincing tone.
She threw her hands up and said, “If ye keep at this, dearie, the leprechun’ll kill ye.”
“Don’t ye worry yer pretty, little head about it, darlin’. I’ll be fine and afore ye know it ye’ll have your house back bigger and better than ever. Now be a dear an’fix me a bite to eat,” said O’Sullivan.
After eating his fill, he was feeling fit as a fiddle, so off he went to find Bailey O’Taters. Since the wee man’s house had been uprooted and moved, Shamus O’Sullivan had no idea where to begin his search, so he hiked into the village to try and learn of information about the leprechaun’s whereabouts. He asked at the market, the grist mill, the blacksmith shop, and the local tavern, but no one knew a shred of news about it. Not being one to be deterred, the farmer went on his search just the same. He didn’t care how many days, weeks, or years it took, he was not going to give up until he found and bagged O”Taters.
He took a bundle of food along with him and got underway. He began at the old site of the leprechaun’s house and to his amazement there was a trail of dirt that must have fallen from the tree roots which had been ripped out the ground. O’Sullivan knew then that his luck was changing for the better. He followed the trail, which took him far from home. He didn’t come to the end of it for several days and camped out each night. He didn’t bring along a blanket, so he huddled close to the fire and kept warm as best he could.
One warm, sunny day in the early afternoon, the farmer reached the end of the trail and there was the big oak tree with the tiny door in it. O’Sullivan smiled, but his smile grew even broader, when he drew closer for there at the base of the tree was Bailey O’Taters. He was fast asleep with the little, back pot with the handle attached that the farmer had seen before. In front of O’Taters and the black pot was a pile of gold coins that he apparently was in the middle of counting into the pot before he nodded off. O’Sullivan thought, he must be planning to take this pot o’ gold to the end of the rainbow, but he ain’t gonna make it ‘cause I’m gonna grab ‘im.”
The big, burly farmer made a lunge for O’Taters and grabbed him by his emerald green jacket, but the leprechaun jumped and jerked away, so all O’Sullivan came away with was a single gold button. He stared down at it and saw that it was engraved with a shamrock. He closed his fist around it and held it tightly in his beefy palm. O’Taters didn’t know that one of his buttons was missing, so he whipped out his tiny, golden sword as he did on every prior occasion. It glinted in the sun as it always did, but when he began saying his magic incantation nothing happened, at all. He was stunned.
He said, “What have ye done, O’Sullivan, me magic’s gone?”
The farmer laughed and stated, “I’ve snagged one o’ yer buttons little man. That must’ve done the trick.”
The leprechaun examined his jacket and looked up at O’Sullivan in horror. He said, “Ye have no idea what ye’ve done, do ya?”
“Not exactly, but I’d say me luck has changed fer the better,” stated O’Sullivan smugly.
“Those buttons brung me exceptional luck fer centuries, ye big lout. I had seven rows of seven buttons each and on each button was a shamrock. No other of me peers wore such a jacket with that particular number of buttons. I wuz the luckiest of the lucky and now me luck has run out. All ‘cause ye took that one wee button,” said the elf.
“Now ye must grant me wishes, O’Taters,” said O’Sullivan firmly.
“I’m at yer service,” answered the leprechaun.
“Ain’t ye mad at me, Bailey?” asked the farmer.
“Nah, I ain’t one ta hold a grudge. I’ve had the best luck ever a leprechaun could ask fer and it’s lasted fer centuries until ye finally got the best o’ me. Now tell me yer wishes,” said Bailey gamely.
“If yer luck’s run out, be ye able to grant me wishes, at all?” asked O’Sullivan.
“O’course, I can grant them, O’Sullivan. I just can’t use any magic for meself or bring down any curses on ye, so ask what ye will , big man,” answered O’Taters.
“Me first wish is ta have a big, grand house that’ll make me darlin’ wife proud,” said the farmer thoughtfully.
“That’s a good wish, man. Consider it done,” said Bailey with a wave of his sword.
“Me second wish is ta make ye me personal servant ‘til I die,” O’Sullivan stated with a wry grin.
“Ye cut me to the quick, O’Sullivan, but it will be as ye say,” said the wee man with a deep bow. Then he asked, “And what’ll ye have for yer final wish? Ye better make it a good one, since it be yer last.”
O’Sullivan laughed and answered, “Me last wish is to have unlimited wishes.”
Bailey O’Taters stomped his foot, threw his wee hat on the ground and jumped up and down on it in rage. He said, “Ye’ve proven yerself wiser than I thought. Yer persistence has paid off, O’Sullivan. Now we might as well head back to yer new fancy house. Just let me take care o’ me pot o’ gold first.”
“Bring it with ye little man. I’ll be needin’ it and more besides,” said the wise farmer whose luck had changed forever.
The End
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