here yiz both," says he to the women, you wor good wives both o' ye, I have nothin to say agin it-Molly dont forget the whate is to be winny'd the first fine day) and ready you wor to make and to mind-(Judy there's a hole in the foot of my left stockin') and

"Don't be thinkin' o' your footin' here," said little Judy, the knowledgable craythur, as she was, "but endayvour to make your footin' in heaven," says she, "mavourneen."

"Don't put in your prate 'till your ax'd," says the owld savage, no ways obliged that his trusty little owld woman was wantin to give him a helpin' hand tow'rds puttin his poor sinful sowl in the way o' glory.

"Lord look down on you!" says she.

"Tuck the blanket round my feet," says he, "for I'm gettin very cowld." So the big owld hag of a wife tucked

the blankets round him.

"Ah you were always a comfort to me," says owld Fairly.

"Well remember my son for that same," says she, " for it's time I think you'd be dividin' what you have bechuxt uz," says she.

"Well I suppose I must do it at last," says the owld chap, though, hegh! hegh! hegh!“ Oh this thievin' cough though its hard to be obleeged to leave one's hard airins and comforts this away," says he, the unfortunate owld thief thinkin' o' this world instead of his own poor sinful sowl.

“Come here big Fairly," says he, "my own bully boy, that's not a starved poor ferret, but worth while lookin' at. I lave you this house," says he.

"Ha!" says the big owld sthrap, makin' a face over the bed at the poor little woman that was cryin', the craythur, although the owld villian was usin' her so bad.

All my cattle," says the owld fellow, "every head" says he, "barrin one, and that one is for that poor scaldcrow there," says he, “little Fairly.”

"And is it only one you lave my poor boy," says the little woman.

poor

"If you say much," says the owld dyin' vagabone," the divil resave the taste of any thing I'll lave him or you," says he.

"Don't say divil, darlin,"

"Howld your prate I tell you and listen to me, I say you little Fairly." "Well daddy," says the little chap. "Go over to that corner cupboard," says he," and in the top shelf," says he, " in the bottom of a crack'd taypot you'll find a piece of an owld rag, and bring it here to me."

With that little Fairly went to do as he was bid, but he could not reach up so high as the corner cupboard, and he run into the next room for a stool to stand upon to come at the crack'd taypot, and he got the owld piece iv a rag and brought it to his father.

Open it," says the father. "I have it open now," says little Fairly.

What's in it? says the owld boy. "Six shillin's in silver, and three farthin's," says little Fairly.

"That was your mother's fortune," says the father, and I'm goin to behave like the hoighth of a gentleman, as I am," says he, "I'll give you your mother's fortune," says he," and I hope you won't squander it," says he," the way that every blackguard now thinks he has a right to squandher any decent man's money he is the heir to," says he, "but be careful of it," says he, "as I was, for I never touched a rap iv it but let it lie gotherin' in that taypot ever since the day I got it from Shane Ruadh the day we sthruck the bargain about Judy, over beyant at the and bagpipes,' comin' from the fair, and I lave you that sir shillings and five stone o' mouldy oats that's no use to me, and four broken plates, and that three legged stool you stood upon to get at the cupboard, you poor nharrough that you are, and the two spoons without handles, and the one cow that's gone back of her milk.

cat

"What use is the cow, daddy?" says little Fairly, "widout land to feed her

an ?"

Well, to make a long story short, the ould chap soon had the puff out iv him, and whin the wake was over and that they put him out to grass-laid him asleep snug with a daisy quilt over him-throth that minit the poor little woman and her little offsprig was turned out body and bones, and forced to seek shelter any way they could.

Well, little Fairly was a cute chap, and so he made a little snug place out of the back iv a ditch, and wid moss and rishes and laves and brambles made his ould mother snug enough antil he got a little mud cabin built for her, and the cow gave them milk, and the craythurs got on purty well antil the big dirty vagabone of a brother began to grudge the cow the bit o' grass, and he ups and says he to little Fairly one day, "What's the raison," says he, "your cow does be threspassin' an my fields?" says he.

"Sure and wasn't it the last dyin' words o' my father to you," says little Fairly," that you would let me have grass for my cow?"

"I don't remember it," says big Fairly the dirty naygur, who was put up to it all by the garron more, his mother.

"Yiv a short memory," says little Fairly.

66

Yis, but I've a long stick," says the big chap, shakin' it at him at the same time, and I'd rekimmind you to keep a civil tongue in your head," says he.

You're mighty ready to bate your little brother, but would you fight your match?" says little Fairly.

"Match or no match," says big Fairly, "I'll brake your bones if you give me more o' your prate," says he, "and I tell you again don't let your cow be threspassin' an my land, or I warn you that you'll be sorry," and off he wint."

Well, little Fairly kept never mindin him, and brought his cow to

graze every day on big Fairly's land; and the big fellow used to come and hish her off the land, but the cow was as little and cute as her masther-she was a Kerry cow, and there's a power o' cuteness comes out o' Kerry. Well, as I was sayin, the cow used to go off as quite as a lamb ; but the minit the big bosthoon used to turn his back, whoo! my jewel, she used to leap the ditch as clever as a hunther, and back wid her again to graze, and faix good use she made of her time, for she got brave and hearty and gev a power o' milk, though she was goin' back of it shortly before, but there was a blessin' over Fairly, and all belongin' to him, and all that he put his hand to, thruv with him. Well now I must tell you what big Fairly done-and the dirty turn it was; but the dirt was in him ever and always, and kind mother it was for him. Well what did he do but he dug big pits all through the field where little Fairly's cow used to graze and he covers them up with branches o' threes and sods, makin'it look fair and even, and all as one as the rest o' the field, and with that he goes to little Fairly, and says he, "I tould you before," says he, "not to be sendin' your little blackguard cow to thresspass on my fields," says he, " and mind I tell you now, that it wont be good for her health to let her go there again, for I tell you she'll come to harm, and its dead she'll be before long."

" for

"Well she may as well die one way as another," says little Fairly, sure if she does'nt get grass she must die, and I tell you again divil an off your land I'll take my cow."

"Can't you let your dirty cow graze along the road side?" says big Fairly. Why then do you think," says little Fairly, answering him mighty smart, "do think I have so little respect for my father's cow as to turn her out a beggar an the road to get her dinner off the common highway? throth I'll do no sitch thing."

you

Well, you'll soon see the end iv it," says big Fairly, and off he wint in great delight, thinkin' how poor little Fairly's cow would be killed. And now wasn't he the dirty threacherous, black-hearted villain, to take advantage of a poor cow, and lay a thrap for the dumb baste-but whin the dirty dhrop is in it must come out. Well, poor Fairly sent his cow to graze next mornin', but

the poor little darlin' crayther fell into one o' the pits and was kilt, and when little Fairly kem for her in the evenin' there she was cowld and stiff, and all he had to do now was to sing drimmin dhu dheelish over her, and drag her home as well as he could, wid the help of some neighbours that pitied the craythur and cursed the big bosthoon that done such a threacherous turn.

Well, little Fairly was the fellow to put the best face upon every thing; and so, instead of givin' in to fret, and makin' lamentations that would do him no good, by dad he began to think how he could make the best of what happened, and the little craythur sharpened a knife immediantly, and began to shkin the cow, " and anyhow," says he, "the cow is good mate, and my ould mother and me 'ill have beef for the winther."

“Thrue for you, little Fairly," said one of neighbours was helpin' him, " and besides, the hide 'ill be good to make soals for your brogues for many. a long day."

"Oh, I'll do betther, wid the hide nor that," says little Fairly.

"Why what betther can you do nor that wid it?" says the neighbour.

"Oh, I know myself," says little Fairly, for he was as cute as a fox, as I said before, and would'nt tell his saycrets to a stone wall, let alone a companion. And what do you think he done wid the hide? Guess now throth I'd let you guess from this to Christmas, and you'd never come inside it. Faix it was the complatest thing ever you heerd. What would you think but he tuk the hide and cut six little holes an partic'lar places he knew av himself, and then he goes and he gets his mother's fortin, the six shillin's I tould you about, and he hides the six shillin's in the six holes, and away he wint to a fair was convenient, about three days afther, where there was a great sight o' people, and a power o' sellin' and buyin', and dhrinkin' and fighting', by course, and why nat?

Well Fairly ups and he goes right into the very heart o' the fair, an' he spread out his hide to the greatest advantage, and he began to cry out (and by the same token, though he was little he had a mighty sharp voice and could be hard farther nor a bigger man) well he began to cry out, "Who wants to buy a hide!-the rale hide-the ould

VOL. I.

Why thin indeed I b'lieve I am takin' lave o' my sinses, sure enough,” says Fairly, "to sell my hide so chape." Chape," says the man, "arrah thin listen to the little mad vagabone,” says he to the crowd, that was gother about by this time, "listen to him askin' a hundher guineas for a hide.”

"Aye," says Fairly, and the well laid out money it'ill be to whoever has the luck to buy it. This is none o' your common hides-it's the goolden bull's hide-the Pope's goolden bull's hide, that kem from furrin parts, and its a fortune to whoever 'ill have patience to bate his money out iv it."

"How do you mane?" says a snug ould chap, that was always poachin' about for bargains-"I never heard of batin' money out of a hide," says he.

"Well, then, I'll show you," says Fairly, "and only I'm disthressed for a hundher guineas, that I must have before Monday next," says he, “I wouldn't part wid this hide; for every day in the week you may thrash a fistful o' shillin's out iv it, if you take pains, as you may see." And wid that, my jew'l, he ups wid a cudgel, he 'had in his hand, and he began leatherin

8 F

away at the hide; and he hits it in the place he knew himself, and out jump'd one o' the shillin's he hid there. "Hurroo!" says little Fairly, "darlint you wor, you never desaived me yet!!" and away he thrashed agin, and out jumped another shillin' "That's your sort!" says Fairly, "the devil a sitch wages any o' yiz ever got for thrashin' as this"-and then another whack, and away wid another shillin.'

"Stop, stop!" says the ould cravin' chap, "I'll give you the money for the hide," says he, "if you'll let me see can I bate money out iv it." And wid that he began to thrash the hide, and, by course, another shillin' jump'd

out.

"Oh! its yourself has the rale twist in your elbow for it," says Fairly; "and I see by that same, that you're above the common, and desarvin' of my favour."

Well, my dear, at the word "desarvin' o' my favour," the people that was gother round, (for by this time all the fair a'most was there,) began to look into the rights o' the thing, and one and all they agreed that little Fairly was one o'the 'good people; for if he wasn't a fairy, how could he do the like? and, besides, he was sitch a dawnshee craythur they thought what else could he be ; and says they to themselves, "that ould divil, Mulligan, it's the likes iv him id have the luck iv it; and let alone all his gains in this world, and his scrapin and screwin, and it's the fairies themselves must come to help him, as if he wasn't rich enough before." Well, the ould chap paid down a hundher guineas in hard goold to little Fairly, and off he wint wid his bargain.

"The divil do you good wid it," says one, grudgin' it to him.

"What business has he wid a hide?" says another, jealous of the ould fellow's luck."

a good price for the hide, considherin' the markets wasn't so high thin as they are now, by rayson of the staymers, that makes gintlemin av the pigs, sendin' them an their thravels to furrin' parts, so that a rasher o' bacon in poor Ireland is gettin' scarce, even on an Aisther Sunday."*

You may be sure the poor owld mother of little Fairly was proud enough whin she seen him tumble out the hard goold an the table forninst her, and my darlint you wor," says she, “an' how did you come by that sight o' goold ?"

66

"I'll tell you another time," says little Fairly," but you must set off to my brother's now, and ax him to lind me the loan av his scales."

Why, what do you want wid a scales, honey?" says the owld mother?

"Oh! I'll tell you that another time too," says little Fairly, "but be aff now, and don't let the grass grow undher your feet."

Well, off wint the owld woman, and may be you'd want to know yourself what it was Fairly wanted wid the scales. Why, thin, he only wanted thim just for to make big Fairly curious about the matther, that he might play him a thrick, as you'll see by-an-by.

Well, the little owld woman wasn't long in bringin' back the scales, and whin she gave them to little Fairly, "there, now," says he, "sit down beside the fire, and there's a new pipe for you, and a quarther o' tobaccy, that I brought home for you from the fair, and you make yourself comfortable," says he, "till I come back," and out he wint, and sat down behind a ditch to watch if big Fairly was comin' down to the house, for he thought the curosity o' the big gommoch and the garran more would make them come down to spy about the place, and see what he wanted wid the scales; and, sure enough, he wasn't there long when he seen them both crassin' a style hardby, and in he jumped into the gripe o'the ditch, and run along undher the shelter o' the back av it, and whipped into the house, and spread all his goold out an the table, and began to weigh it in the scales.

But he wasn't well in, whin the cord o' the latch was dhrawn, and in marched big Fairly, and the garran more, his mother, without "by your lave," or "God save you," for they had no breedin' at allt. Well, my jewel, the minit they clapped their eyes an the goold, you'd think the sight id lave their eyes; and indeed not only their eyes, let alone, but their tongues in their heads was no use to thim, for the divil a word either o' them could spake for beyant a good five minutes. So, all that time, little Fairly kept never mindin' them, but wint an a weighin' the goold, as busy as a nailor, and at last, whin the big brute kem to his speech, "Why, thin," says he, "what's that I see you doin'," says he.

"Oh, it's only divartin' myself I am," says little Fairly, "thryin' what woight o' goold I got for my goods at the fair," say he.

"Your goods indeed," says the big chap, "I suppose you robbed some honest man an the road, you little vagabone," says he.

"Oh, I'm too little to rob any one," says little Fairly. "I'm not a fine big able fellow, like you, to do that same." "Thin how did you come by the goold," says the big savage. "I towld you before, by sellin' my goods," says the little fellow. 66 Why, what goods have you, you poor unsignified little brat," says big Fairly, "you never had any thing but your poor beggarly cow,

and she's dead."

"Throth, then, she is dead, and more by token, 'twas yourself done for her, complate, anyhow; and I'm behoulden to you for that same, the longest day I have to live, for it was the makin' o' me. You wor ever and always the good brother to me; and never more than whin you killed my cow, for it's the makin' o' me. The divil a rap you see here I'd have had if my cow was alive, for I wint to the fair to sell her hide, brakin' my heart to think that it was only a poor hide I had to sell, and wishin' it was a cow was to the fore; but, my dear, whin I got there, there was no ind to the demand for hides, and the divil a one, good bad or indifferent, was there but my own, and there was any money for hides, and so I gota hundher guineas for it, and there they are."

"Why thin do you tell me so," says the big chap, "Divil a lie in it," says little Fairly." I got a hundher guineas for the hide."-"Oh I wish I had another cow for you to kill for me,-troth would I !"

"Come home, mother," says big Fairly, without sayin another word, and away he wint home, and what do you think he done but he killed every individyal cow he had, and "by gor," says he, "its the rich man I'll be when I get a hundher guineas a piece for all their hides," and, accordingly off he wint to the next fair, hardby, and he brought a car load o'hides, and began to call out in the fair, “Who wants the hides?-here's the chape hides-only a hundher guineas apiece."

"Oh do you hear that vagabone that has the assurance to come chatin' the counthry again," says some people that was convaynient, and that heerd o'the doin's at the other fair, and how the man was chated by a sleeveen vagabone-" and think of him, to have the impudence to come here, so nigh the place, to take in uz now, but we'll be even wid him," says they, and so they went up to him, and says they to the thievin rogue, honest man," says they, “what's that you have to sell?” Hides," says he.

66

"What do you ax for them?" says

they.

"A hundher and ten guineas apiece," says he for he was a greedy crathur, and thought he never could have enough.

"Why you riz the price on them siuce the last time," says they.

"Oh these are better," says big Fairly, "but I dont mind if I sell them for a hundher a-piece, if you give me the money down," says he.

"You shall be ped an the spot," says they-and with that they fell an him, and thrash'd him like a shafe, till they didn't lave a spark o' sinse in him, and then they left him sayin', "are you ped now, my boy!-faix you'll be a warnin to all rogues for the futhur, how they come to fairs, chatin' honest min out o' their money, wid cock and bull stories about their hides—but introth I think your own hide isn't much the better of the tannin' it got to day— faix an it was the rale oak bark was put