Connolly’s Ghost

A Tale of Old Dublin

Connolly's Ghost 3Tommy Connolly told friends, “At the end of 1901 I took some time and went across the water to Ireland, where I spent time visiting a close relative who lived in a Square in the north side of Dublin. Several weeks later, in January 1902, my relative’s husband fell seriously ill. Over the next few nights I sat up with him until, at last, as his health appeared to improve, I decided to go to my bed and asked one of the house servants to call me if anything should happen. Tiredness quickly overcame me, and I soon fell asleep, but sometime later I was awakened again by a strong push on my left shoulder. Startled by this, I jumped up in the bed and asked, ‘Is there anything wrong?’ I didn’t get an answer to my question, but only received another push. Annoyed by this behaviour I angrily asked, ‘Can you not speak, and tell me if there is anything wrong!’  But there was still no answer, and I had a feeling that I was just going to get another push. It was then that I suddenly turned around and caught hold of a human hand, which felt plump, warm, and soft to my touch.
“’Who are you?’ I asked, but still I got no reply answer. Then, using every ounce of my strength I tried to pull the person towards me, but it was in vain. And yet, I told the person, ‘I will find out who you are!’ holding the hand tight in my right hand while, with my left, I felt the wrist and arm, enclosed, it appeared to me, in a tight-fitting sleeve of some type of winter material with a linen cuff. But when I got as far as the elbow all trace of an arm appeared to vanish. This shocked me greatly, and in my fright, I released my grip on the hand and, at that moment, I heard the clock strike two.
Connolly's Ghost 2“If you included the mistress of the house, there were five women in that home, and I am certain that the hand did not belong to any one of them. Then, when I reported the event in the house, the servants exclaimed, ‘Ah, sure, it must have been old Aunt Betty, who lived for many years in that area of the house, and she was already a great age when she died over fifty years ago.’ It was only after learning this that I heard the same room in which I had felt the hand was believed to be haunted, for very curious noises and strange happenings had occurred, including bed clothes being torn off, furniture being thrown, etc. It was said that one lady got a slap in the face from  an invisible hand, and when she lit her lamp, she saw something shadowy fall or jump off the bed. Afterwards, the lady’s brother, an army officer, slept in that same place for two nights, but preferred to seek a room in a hotel in which to sleep for a third night. He left the next morning without stating what he had seen or heard, but only shook his head saying he would never sleep there again. Following this, however, I spent several months in the house, sleeping in that same room, and I was never again disturbed in any way.
Connolly's Ghost 1

Cat Sidhe

The Demon Cat

demon-cat 2There are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of types and breeds of Cat which share this world with us. Among all these many natural types and breeds of feline, however, there are those from the world of the supernatural, which have particularly wicked and evil ways. The Cat Sidhe, (Cat Sìth-Scottish Gaelic) is one such has become a part of Celtic mythology, which is said to look like a large black cat with a white spot on its chest, that and mainly haunts rocky high ground. Although the greater number of legends associated with these creatures are to be found within the tales of Scottish folklore, there are a few stories that occur within the folklore archives of Ireland. It is customary within Irish folklore that such creatures as these are considered as demons, or witches’ “familiars”, that adopt the disguise of a cat to gain easy entry into human residences. And, once inside the homes of mortals, they can spy on all that happens and, thereby, bring about a range of terrible events.
The idea of the Cat Sidhe (‘Fairy Cat’) may have been originally inspired by the presence of the European Wildcat in the lands of the Celts. In those days the Wildcat was a much more numerous and widespread animal than it is now. Much like the wolf, it is extinct in Ireland but the memory of the large, all black cat with the white spot prominent on its chest, still lingers. Known as the ‘Demon Feline’ by some it was a creature never to be trusted. It was even thought capable of stealing a person’s soul before it could be claimed by God, and in several areas would hold special wakes to keep the creature away from the corpse before it was buried. At these, the people would play music, and all sorts of games to distract the Cat Sidhe away from the room in which the corpse lay. At the same time, no fires were lit in the room where the body lay for, it was said, the ‘Demon Feline’ was attracted by warmth.
Although never to be trusted when encountered, legend tells that on the feast of ‘Samhain’ the Cat Sidhe would bless any house that left a saucer of milk out or it to drink. But for those houses that did not leave out a saucer of milk, there was only a curse as a reward, such as having the cow’s milk dry-up. Such things, of course, led many to believe that the Cat Sidhe was a witch that could transform at will into a cat and back again nine times. It was said that should a witch choose to go back into their cat form for a ninth time, they would remain a cat for the rest of their days, and hence the tradition of the cat having nine lives.
demon-cat 1The ‘Demon Feline’, however, came into its own when ancient rituals for calling up the dead were practiced. From tribe to tribe these rituals varied, but generally involved torture or cruelty to animals and humans and, occasionally, included animal sacrifice. It was not unknown in some of these rituals for the bodies of cats to be roasted alive over the course of several days and nights. All these rituals were carried out to summon legions of spirits or demons in the form of black cats, with the devil at their head, to answer questions concerning the future.
The following tale from Ireland, called ‘The Fisherman’s Wife’, recalls an encounter with one of these ‘Demon Felines’ and the difficulties that she faced before overcoming the demon.
In the West of Ireland, there once lived a woman, whose fisherman husband was an industrious worker who also had good knowledge of the sea and knew where to find the best catches. He worked hard to ensure that his wife was always well supplied with a great variety of fish that she could clean, cure, store, and make ready for sale in the market. But, despite her husband’s good fortune, this woman’s life was not at all a happy one because, when the husband was out fishing, she was being constantly tormented by a huge black cat that would make its way into the house, where it would greedily devour all the best and finest fish that she had prepared for market.
Finally, she decided that if she was to successfully fight off this creature, then she needed to arm herself with a large, thick stick, and with it, in her hands, she would patiently await the cat’s next entrance. Then, one day, unexpectedly, as she was sat in the house gossiping with another woman from the village, the entire house suddenly fell into great darkness and the front door of the house burst open as if blasted by a great wind. Through the open doorway and into the house the huge black monster of a cat strolled, triumphantly marching all the way up to the glowing fire. When he reached the hearth, this demon cat turned toward the two women with a grimace on its face and roared like a lion. “Oh, dear God! Sure, it’s the devil himself!” screamed a young girl who was sorting fish on a bench not far away.
“I’ll teach you to call me names, woman!” snarled the huge, black cat and it leaped at the girl, scratching her arm deeply with its huge claws and caused blood to flow from the wound. A diabolical laugh echoed through the house as the cat sneered, “There, now, woman! You’ll hold a much more civil tongue in your head the next time a gentleman, the likes of myself, calls on you!” Saying those words, which rang loudly in the young girl’s ears, the demon cat jumped at the open door, slamming it closed again to prevent any of his captives from escaping. The cat deemed it vital now that the wounded young girl was crying hysterically from the fright and the pain she had been caused. Now, with this one terrifying leap, the huge black cat had cut-off every possible route of escape for the women.
demon-cat 5Just as the monster slammed the front door shut, a man, who was passing by the house, was stopped in his tracks by the series of loud cries and screams that were coming from the building. Being very much concerned by the terrible cries that he heard the man rushed up to the door of the house and, using every ounce of his strength that he could muster, he tried to force it open. But the demon cat dug in its heels and, doggedly standing its ground, it refused to allow the man to enter the house and help the women. The man, however, was carrying a large, thick blackthorn stick in his hands and he began to beat down on the monster with every muscle in his body and gave the demon several great blows that told. But, the monster feline was more than a match for the man and launched itself at him with force, tearing at his face and hands so badly that the man had no choice but to take to his heels and run away as fast as he could.
Now that the potential rescuer of the women had been forced to flee the scene a huge expression of joy came across the face of the demon as he hissed at his captives, “Now, it’s time for me to eat my dinner.” Then with quick and eager steps, the cat moved toward the long bench-table upon which the fish had been spread out as if they had been made ready for him to examine.
“I hope these fish are as good as they look,” the cat sneered as it displayed its sharp, ivory-colored, teeth to the frightened women. “Now, listen to me, don’t even think of making any kind of a fuss, or disturbance while I am helping myself to this feast.” Then, using the great strength it had in its rear legs, the demon cat pounced up on to the bench-table and began to rapidly and hungrily devour all the best fish. With each fish that it gobbled down, the demon continued to stare and growl at the terrified women, who now began to fear that they too might be on his menu.
Suddenly, filled with renewed courage, the fisherman’s wife jumped up from her where she was seated and squealed at the monster, “Get away out of this place you, black devil cat!” As she squealed the woman also gave the demon several mighty blows with a set of large, brass coal-tongs that would have certainly broken the back of any normal cat. In her anger and rage, the woman screamed again at the monster cat, “Get away from here, damn you! You will have no feast of our fish this day!”
Unfazed by the woman’s screams, the huge cat turned slowly to face her and grinned triumphantly as he began to tear at and devour the fish, feeling none the worse for the heavy blows that the fisherman’s wife had struck him. Undaunted by the failure of their efforts to chase the predator away, the two women continued attacking the demon cat with whatever instruments that they could put their hands on, striking huge blows that appeared to be hard enough to kill. Still, the huge cat continued to stare at the women contemptuously, apparently unaffected by their efforts to hurt him, and it then began to spit out fire as he made a deadly leap toward them. The demon’s great claws and sharp teeth tore into the hands and arms of the women until their blood began to run freely from the wounds caused, and the women made their last-ditch effort, screaming in their terror, to rush out of the building to freedom.
Within a very few minutes of leaving the building, the fisherman’s wife sought out a bottle of Holy Water and with this, in her hands, she moved back into the building to confront the great demon. Tentatively, the woman peeked into the house through the open door and saw that the huge cat was still totally engaged in devouring the fish that had been laid out upon the bench-table. So, with great stealth, the fisherman’s wife quietly crept over to the place where her enemy stood and, without making a sound, she opened the bottle of Holy Water and threw the contents all over the unsuspecting demon cat. In an instant a dense black cloud of smoke filled the entire room, covering everything until the only object that could be seen in the darkness was the demon’s glowing red eyes, which burned bright like the coals in a fire. Then, as the thick smoke gradually began to clear away, the fisherman’s wife saw the huge cat as it was burning slowly until it finally became like a shriveled, black cinder and disappeared. It was a gratifying sight but, from that moment onward, the fish catch would remain untouched by the demon and safe from further destruction. The power of the ‘evil one’ was finally broken and the fearsome ‘demon feline’ was never to be seen again.
Now that we have reached the end of this tale, it is time to consider the long-held tradition which warns us about the very vengeful tendencies shown by all cats, and that we should make every effort to ensure that we never do anything to offend these animals. What can happen if we fail to abide by these warnings is demonstrated in the following story, which is alleged to be true –
demon-cat 3The story tells us that there was once a fine lady of quality, who had a habit of lifting her cat into her arms and to feed it from the food on her own table during dinner. She would select tasty morsels from the plate and give them to the cat with her own hands. One evening, however, the lady decided that she would give a special dinner party for her friends. On such an occasion the lady did not feel it was appropriate for her pet to be fed from the table around which her friends would be seated. The food was served, and the needs and expectations of the cat were completely ignored, while she was rebuffed on several occasions when she approached her mistress. The cat was greatly angered by the treatment it had received and she moved into a dark corner of the room, where it lay silently sulking and planning how it might get revenge for being treated so abysmally. It awaited its opportunity, which arrived after the lady had gone to her bed for the night. The vengeful cat crept silently out from its hiding place and, making its way to the mistress’ bedroom, sprang at the sleeping woman’s bared throat. The cat bit deep into the flesh and created a wound that was so severe that within a week the poor woman became gravely sick and eventually died from virulent blood poisoning.
There is a long-standing tradition, which says that there is a power that resides within the blood of a black cat which is to be held in the highest esteem by those persons who are proficient in the making the cures of ancient times. It is such as these that know the true power of the black cat’s blood can only be unleashed when it is mixed with magical charms, thereby providing relief to suffering people through ancient potions that cure even the worst of diseases. Those ‘wise people’ who prepare these magical charms and potions will tell you that three drops of blood from a black cat are more than enough to gain the desired effect. The custom among the ‘Fairy Doctors’ and ‘Wise Women’ is that they gather this blood by nipping off a small piece of a cat’s tail. But it is my opinion that untrained persons would be better leaving such tasks to the experts because cats can become evil demons and will seek to take a terrible vengeance upon anyone who offends them.

The Alpluachtra – The Hungry One

“I don’t know what happened to me, but I have the strangest feelings inside of me. Believe me, daughter, I can tell you that I have never felt like this before …

A Tale of Rural Ireland

This story is concerned with the fate of a wealthy farmer, who lived in some comfort on land that lay in the west of Ireland. Through his own efforts he had built a large farm and a fine family, none of whom wanted for anything. Many men would have considered themselves to be particularly blessed if they had found themselves in a position that was comparable to his. But, he did not consider himself to be a lucky man and preferred to say that he was able to sit back and enjoy the fruits of his labour, and for many years the evils of ill-health and sorrow were kept away from the doors of the family home.

The story begins, however, one day in the middle of the harvest as he was supervising a group of workers who were cutting and gathering hay in the large meadow close to the main farmhouse. It was a very hot day in the meadow and the farmer sat himself down among the hay bales and drank a cooling cup of buttermilk. After easing his thirst, the farmer took the opportunity to stretch out on several bales of fresh cut hay and fell asleep under the warm sun in a cloudless sky. The birds flew in the air and tweeted their peaceful songs, serenading the sleeping farmer for the next few hours. But, as the farmer slept, his workers gathered in all the cut hay and made their way home after another satisfying hard day’s work.

The farmer had lain in the full glare of that hot sun for several hours. When he finally awakened, and sat up, the farmer did not realise where he was, at first. When he recovered his senses fully, however, the farmer realised that he was in the field at the rear of the main house. Raising himself up from the hay bales, he stretched his legs and then began walking toward the farmhouse to get some shade, and some food. But, he had not travelled very far when he began to feel a severe pain in his side, which he immediately blamed on his extended sleep among the hay bales. By the time he had arrived at the house he was feeling a chill in his body and he immediately made his way to the ‘range’, sitting in a chair close by and trying to warm himself a little. As he sat there, his daughter came to him and asked him quietly, “Where were you, father?

I fell asleep in the sunshine for a while, sweetheart,” he told her. “I laid myself down upon the fresh cut bales of hay that were in the meadow and I simply closed my eyes.

But, what has happened to you, Father?” the young girl asked anxiously. “You don’t look at all well.

Damn it,” snarled the farmer, “I don’t know what happened to me, but I have the strangest feelings inside of me. Believe me, daughter, I can tell you that I have never felt like this before, but I hope to feel much better after a good sleep.” With these words he got up slowly from his seat and made his way upstairs to his bedroom, where he undressed for bed and went to sleep. It was a deep and sound sleep that lasted until the sun was well up in the sky the following morning.

When the farmer wakened from his sleep the next morning, he found his wife was sitting at the side of his bed. “What was wrong with you that caused you to sleep so deeply, and for such a long time?

I don’t know, my darling” he told her in a voice that sounded very tired and downcast. Getting himself dressed, the farmer went down to the kitchen, where his daughter was making a cake of soda-bread for breakfast.

Once again, he sat in the comfortable chair beside the ‘range’ and his daughter quietly asked, “How are you feeling this morning, Daddy? Are you feeling any better than you were last night?

With a loving expression on his face, he looked up at his daughter and gave her a little smile. “I had a very good sleep,” he told her in a positive tone of voice. “But, in all honesty, I don’t feel one bit better than I did last evening. You know, it is almost like there is something inside me that seems to be constantly on the move, and it is making me ill,” he said.

But, Daddy, that’s impossible,” she said to him quite sternly. “It is simply a cold that you have caught while lying outside on the new mown hay. But, if you are not better by this evening I am going to get mammy to send for the doctor.

Alpluachra 3The Farmer said nothing that would dissuade her from following her course of action. He only knew that he was in almost constant pain, although he didn’t know for certain where the terrible pain originated. One moment he felt the pain coming from one part of his body and then, in the next minute, the source of the pain appeared to have moved elsewhere. So, it continued throughout the day and when evening came the farmer did not feel even the slightest bit of relief in his condition. In response the farmer’s wife sent for the doctor to come as soon as possible and attend to her husband’s illness. However, for some unknown reason the wait for the doctor became quite prolonged, and the farmer became increasingly concerned about what might happen to him. His wife and daughter, in the meantime, were doing everything they could to keep up the man’s spirits.

Finally, the doctor arrived at the house, and asked the farmer how he felt. The farmer replied that it was hard to explain, but it felt as if a creature of some sort was leaping and jumping about inside his stomach, causing him to feel very ill. Taking off all the sick man’s clothes the doctor gave him a thorough examination but could not discover anything untoward. He put his ear to the man’s side and to his back, but he could hear nothing, despite the pleas of, “Now! now! don’t you hear it? Now, aren’t you listening to it jumping?

The doctor could hear nothing abnormal and began to wonder if his patient was now losing his mind. He was certain that there was nothing wrong with the farmer and he told the farmer’s wife that this was the case. The doctor did tell her that he was worried about the anxieties that her husband was suffering, and that he would send her some medicine the next day that would give him a good, soothing sleep and help settle any fever he may have.

True to his word, the doctor sent the medicine and the poor man took it and he did manage to get another good sleep. But, when he awoke in the morning he was feeling worse than ever, although he could no longer hear the creature jumping about inside him. Once again, the doctor was sent for and, when he came, he was unable to do anything for the patient. The poor man gained no relief from all the medicines that the doctor left with him. At the end of the week the doctor returned to check-up on his patient, but again found him in a worse condition than he was in before. Again, he was unable to do anything for the man, and he was at a complete loss as he tried to diagnose the illness that the man had contracted. “I will not be taking any more of your money from you,” he told the farmer’s wife, “because I can do nothing for your husband, and because I don’t know what is wrong with him, I will not pretend that I do. I will continue to come to see him from time to time, but I will not take any money from you.”

The Farmer’s wife flew into a rage and scarcely had the doctor left the house until she called everyone around her to hear what she had to say. “That Doctor Braddock is not worth a sixpenny bit,” she told them. “Do you know that he told me that he wouldn’t take any money from me again, and he himself told me that he knew nothing about anything. So, to hell with him, he’ll not cross over my door again, and we will get another doctor. I don’t care how far we have to travel, but we must get him.” Everybody in the house agreed with what she had said, and they sent for another doctor. But, when he came he was no better a physician than the other. The new doctor, however, had no qualms whatsoever about taking their money. He came often to see the sick man, and every time he came he would have some new and longer name to give this sickness. The doctor did not know the meaning of these names himself and nobody else knew what they meant, because he had created them just to frighten the ignorant. They remained that way for two months, without once knowing what ailed the poor farmer. When they decided, finally, that this doctor was doing him no good they got another doctor, and another doctor, until there was not a doctor in the entire county who had not been consulted.

The farm lost a lot of money over the employment of these doctors. A great number of cattle had to be sold to get the cash to pay their fees. For over six months they had kept doctors attending him and giving him various medicines. In the meantime, the farmer that was once stoutly built and well-fed grew bare and thin until, at last, there was hardly an ounce of flesh upon him, just skin and bones only. He grew so ill that he became scarcely able to walk. His appetite was gone, and he had great trouble swallowing a piece of soft bread or drinking a small cup of milk. Everyone who had witnessed his health failing said that it would be a blessing if he was to die rather than continue to suffer, for he was now only a feint shadow of his former self.

One day the poor farmer was sitting on a chair in the doorway of the house, sunning himself in the heat of the day, and everyone else in the house had gone out, leaving him alone. Up toward the door a poor old beggar man who used to travel from place to place seeking whatever charity he could obtain. He thought that he recognised the man sitting in the chair, but he had changed so much in his appearance that the beggar man was unsure. “I’m here again, asking or whatever you might find it in your heart to give me,” said the beggar man. “But, what in the name of God ever happened to you, because you are not the same man that I saw here six months ago, may God help you !

Ah, now, Seamus,” said the sick man, “I don’t know what has happened to me, but I know that I won’t be in this world much longer.”

Sure, it is terribly sorry I am to see you how you are,” said the beggar man. “Tell me how this all began, and what do the doctors say.”

Doctors?” snapped the sick man, “My curse upon them all, though I should not be cursing, and me so near the grave.

Perhaps,” said the beggar man, ”I can find a way to help you, if you were to tell me how it all began. I am a knowledgeable man when it comes to diseases and the herbs to cure them.

The sick man smiled and said wearily, “There isn’t a medicine man in the county that I haven’t had in this house looking at me, and haven’t I sold half of my cattle to pay them. Not one of them could give me a moment’s relief with all their medicines and concoctions. But I’ll tell you how this all began.” He then proceeded to give the beggar man an account of everything he felt, and about everything the doctors had prescribed.

The beggar man listened intently to the sick man and, when he had finished his story, he asked, “What sort of field was it that you fell asleep in?”

It was a meadow at the time, but it was just after being cut.”

Was it wet?” questioned the beggar man.

It was not,” said the sick farmer.

Was there a little stream or a brook of water running through it?” asked the beggar man.

There was,” says he.

Can I see the field ?”

You can, to be sure, and I’ll show it to you,” said the sickly farmer and, as bad as he was, he rose off his chair and pulled himself along until he came to the place where he had lay down to sleep that fateful summer’s evening. The beggar man spent a long time examining the place and then he stooped down over the grass, going backwards and forwards with his body bent, and his head down, groping among the herbs and weeds that were growing thickly in it.

The beggar man rose at last saying, “It is as I thought.” At this he stooped down again to search some more. When he raised his head a second-time he held in his hand a small green herb and asked, “Do you see this? Any place in Ireland where this herb grows you can be sure that there’s an Alpluachtra nearby, and you, my friend, have swallowed an Alpluachtra.

How do you know that” asked the sickly farmer. ” If that was so, sure the doctors would have told me before now!

The doctors!” laughed the beggar man scornfully. “Would you ever have a bit of sense. Sure, each of those boys is nothing more than a clown. I tell you again, and believe me, that it’s an Alpluachtra you have swallowed. Sure, didn’t you say yourself that you felt something leaping in your stomach the first day after you being sick? That was the Alpluachtra, and because he was in a strange place, he was a little uneasy. He was moving here and there for those first couple of days until he could settle himself in comfortable place. That creature is the reason why you remain so thin, for every bit of food you eat, the Alpluachtra is getting the good out of it, not you. You said yourself that one side of you was swollen, well that’s the place where the nasty thing is living.”

The sickly farmer would not believe him at first, but the beggar man kept on talking and trying to prove that it was the truth he was speaking. When the farmer’s wife and daughter came back to the house the Beggar man told them the same thing and they were ready enough to believe him. The sick man put no faith in the diagnosis, but they all prevailed on him to call in three doctors together and tell them this new story. They all came together to listen to what the beggar man was saying, but they all laughed at him, the farmer’s wife, and the farmer’s daughter, calling them fools. They said it was something else that was  causing the farmer’s illness and gave that illness names that were twice or three times as long as ever before. They left the sick man a bottle or two of medicine to drink and they left, still laughing at the idea that these people believed the patient had swallowed an Alpluachtra.

When the doctors left the beggar man spoke again, “I doesn’t surprise me that you are not getting any better, if it’s fools like them that have been left to take care of you. There is not a doctor or a man of medicine in all of Ireland that can help you now. There is only one man, O’Donnell, who is known as the Prince of Killough and who lives on the shore of Lough Ree, that is the best doctor in all the provinces of Ireland.”

Where is Lough Ree?” asked the poor man.

It’s in the West,” the beggar man told him. “It’s a big lake and he lives on its shores. Take my advice and go there immediately for he is your last hope you have, and you Ma’am should make him go, if you wish your man to live.”

” By God! ” the woman told him, “I’ll do anything that will cure him.”

If so, send him to the Prince of Killough,” he insisted.

I’d do anything that will cure me,” said  in a weak voice, “for I know I haven’t got long to be in this world if I don’t get some relief, or without something being done for me.

Then go to the Prince of Killough,” urged the beggar man. “Anything that you think would do yourself good, you ought to do it father,” the daughter advised.

There’s nothing will do him any good but to go to the Prince of Killough,” said the beggar man.

The beggar man stayed in the house that night and, the next morning, he began to argue again that the farmer should go to the ‘Prince’. With the support of the wife and the daughter the beggar man managed to prevail upon the farmer to go. The daughter said that she would go with him to take care of him, and the beggar man said that he would accompany them to show them the road. “And I will be at my wit’s end worrying about you, until you come back to me cured,” said the farmer’s wife.

After harnessing the horse, the sick man was placed on the cart along with food for the journey, and they set out their journey. They could not go far the first day, for the sick man was so weak that he could not bear the shaking he was suffering in the cart. He was better the second day, and they all passed the night in a farmer’s house at the side of the road, leaving again the next morning. On the evening of the third day, they came to the house of the ‘Prince’.

It was a nice house, sitting on the edge of the lake, among a thicket of trees, and covered with a straw roof. They left the horse and cart in a nearby village, and they all walked together, until they came to the house. They went into the kitchen and asked if they could see the ‘Prince’. The servant they asked informed them that he was eating a meal, but he might come when he was ready. At that moment, the ‘Prince’ entered and asked his visitors what it was they wanted. The sickly farmer rose up and told him that he was in dire need of the ‘Prince’s’ help, and he began to tell him his whole story. “And now I ask if you can help me?” he asked when he came to the end of his story.

“I hope I can,” said the ‘Prince’, “anyhow, I’ll do my best for you, as you came so far to see me. It wouldn’t be right for me not to do my best. Come up into the parlour with me. The thing that old man told you is the truth. You swallowed an Alpluachtra, or something else. Come up to the parlour with me.”

He brought the sickly farmer up to the parlour with him, and it happened that the meal he had that day was a big piece of salted beef. He cut a large slice off it, and put it on a plate, and gave it to the poor man to eat. “Hold on! What are you doing?” asked the farmer, “I haven’t eaten so much as a crumb of meat in the last three months, because I can’t eat anything.”

Would you be quiet for a moment?” replied the ‘Prince’, “Just you eat what I tell you!” The poor farmer ate as much as he was able, but when he set the knife and fork down the ‘Prince’ made him take them up again and begin anew. He kept the poor man there eating until he was ready to burst and, at last, he was not able to swallow another bit, even if he were to get a hundred pounds for doing so. When the ‘Prince’ saw that the farmer would not be able to swallow any more, he brought him out of the house. He told the farmer’s daughter and the old beggar man to follow them, and he took them all out to a fine green meadow, which had a little stream of water running through it.

He brought the sick man to the edge of the stream, and told him to lie down on his stomach over the stream, and to hold his face over the water, to open his mouth as wide as he could, and to keep it nearly touching the water. “Wait there quiet and easy,” said the ‘Prince’. “For the sake of your life do not move until you see what will happen to you.

The poor man promised that he would be quiet, and he stretched his body on the grass and held his mouth open, over the stream of water. Meanwhile, the ‘Prince’ went to fetch the daughter and the old man with him, and the last word to the sick farmer were, “Be certain, and don’t make a move, whatever happens to you.”

The sick man was not lying like that for more than a quarter of an hour, when something began moving inside of him, and he felt something coming up in his throat, and going back again. It came up and went back three or four times after other. At last it came to the mouth, stood on the tip of his tongue, but was frightened, and ran back again. However, after a few moments, it rose up a second time, and stood on his tongue, and at last jumped down into the water. The ‘Prince’ was watching him closely, and just as the man was going to rise, he called out to him, “Don’t move yet.”

The poor man had to open his mouth again, and he waited the same way as before. He was not there a minute until the second one came up the same way as the last and went back and came up two or three times, as if it got frightened. But at last, it also, like the first one, came up to the mouth, stood on the tongue, and when it felt the smell of the water below it, leaped down into the little stream.

The ‘Prince’ whispered, “Now the thirst’s coming on them; the salt that was in the beef is working them now and they’ll come out.” And before the words had left his mouth, the third one fell, with a plop, into the water; and a moment after that, another one jumped down, and then another, until he counted five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.

There’s a dozen of them now,” said the ‘Prince’, “that’s the clutch, but the old mother didn’t come out yet.” The sick man was getting up again, but the ‘Prince’ called to him, “Stay as you are. The mother didn’t come up.”

AlpluachraHe remained as he was, but no other one came out, though he stayed there for more than a quarter of an hour. The ‘Prince’ himself was becoming uneasy for fear the old Alpluachtra might not come out at all. The poor farmer was so tired and so weak that he wished to get up and, despite all the ‘Prince’ told him, he was trying to stand on his feet. The ‘Prince’ caught him by one leg, and the beggar man by the other, and they held him down against his will. They remained there for another quarter of an hour without speaking a word, or making a sound, and at the end of that time the poor man felt something stirring again in his side, but it felt seven times worse than before. He hardly keep himself from screaming out. The creature kept moving for a good while, and he thought the side was being torn out of his body. Then, it began coming up, and it reached the mouth, and went back again. At last, it came up so far that the poor man put two fingers into his mouth to try and catch hold of it. But if he put in his fingers quick, the old Alpluachtra went back quicker.

Oh, you buck eejit!” cried the ‘Prince’, “What made you do that? Didn’t I tell you not to make a move? Now, remain quiet if she comes up again.” They had to remain there for half an hour, because the old mother of the Alpluachtras was scared, and she was afraid to come out. But she came up at last, perhaps, because she was too thirsty to withstand the temptation of the water, or perhaps she missed the company of her children. Whatever the reason, she came up to his mouth, and stood there for almost a minute, and when she felt safe, she jumped down into the water. The ‘plop’ of her into the water was seven times heavier than those of her children.

The ‘Prince’ and the other two had been watching everything and scarcely dared to breathe, but as soon as she entered the water, they pulled the man back, and had him standing again on his own two feet. It was three hours before he could speak a word, and the first thing he said was, “I’m a new man.” The ‘Prince’ kept him in his own house for a fortnight and giving him good care and feeding. Then, he allowed the farmer to return home with his daughter and the beggar man, and he refused even to take as much as a penny from them.

I’m more pleased than anything that I was able to cure you, and I don’t want even a penny from you,” said the ‘Prince’, “You lost plenty on so-called doctors already.”

They all returned home safely, and he became healthy and fat. He was so thankful to the poor beggar man that he kept him in his own house until his death. For as long as he was alive, he never lay down on green grass again. Moreover, if he ever felt any sickness or ill-health again, he never once called a doctor to him. Is it any wonder?