wife opening it she saw a little lad outside, who asked her for the loan of a hatchet and auger. She gave them to the lad, and shut the door. Some time after her husband asked her, did she know who the boy was? "I do not," says she, "but I think he was one of the neighbours' boys." "I hope they'll return the hatchet," says Frank. A fortnight went by, and nothing was heard of the hatchet and auger, and Frank began to be impatient. One night he wanted the hatchet for something and swore aloud that he'd never lend his things to anybody again. As he was speaking there came a tap at the door, and when they opened it there lay the hatchet and auger on the ground, but not a soul was to be seen. Next day Frank's eldest child slipped, in lifting the kettle off the fire, and fell down, and was so badly burnt that she died. He was then fully persuaded that the things were borrowed by the good people from the fort near the house to make the child's coffin, and "Dear knows," said he, "if I hadn't sworn at them, may be they'd have used them for something else." He did not live very long himself afterwards either.
Michael Lynch.
In addition I have noted the following:—
No mention should be made of fairies on Mondays or Thursdays. If you do mention them on those days you should say: "My back to them and my face from them."
If an oat-cake be baked and left for the next day it should have a piece broken out of it, and should not remain whole, because if the fairies came in the night and saw a whole cake they would surely take it, but they would not touch a broken one, "or take your leavings."[1] This has now come to be applied to all cakes. Many of the old people used to leave potatoes ready cooked and
- ↑ The story of the "Horned Hags" in Mr. O'Faherty's Siamsa art ghimhridh is told to account for this breaking of the cakes.
