(In fear of fairies Irish women sometimes disguise
their boys as girls)
"I dress him sweet," the woman told me,
"All in white with a frill of lace.
See his hair
An' the curls that's on it!
Do ye know a girl with a safter face?
"If so I keep him till five or over,
There's not a one will steal him then!
With a saft wee girl
They'd never bother,
The thievin' fairies down in the glen.
"Never take chances!" the woman warned me,
"For a boy is the thing that sticks to your heart!"
But I was mad!
I had decked mine bravely;
He was moulded a man from the very start.