There was once an old man of Ireland who was terrible poor, and he
lived by his lone in a small wee house by the roadside. At the morning
of the day he would go for to gather sticks in a wood was convenient
to that place, the way he'd have a clear fire to be sitting at of
an evening.
It fell out one time, of a cold night, that Paddy heard a knock at
the door. He went over, and when he opened it he seen a little boy
in a red cap standing without.
"Let you come in and take an air to the fire," says he, for he always
had a good reception for every person.
The boy with the red cap walked in, and he stopped for a good while
conversing. He was the best of company, and the old man didn't find
the time passing until he rose for to go.
"Let you come in and rest yourself here any evening you are out in
these parts," says he.
The very next night the little fellow was in it again, and the night
after that, warming himself at the clear fire and talking away.
"Paddy," says he, the evening he was in it for the third time,
"Paddy, I do be thinking it is bitter poor you are!"
"I am, surely," says the old man.
"Well, let you pay attention to me, it is the truth I'm speaking,
you'll have more gold than ever you'll contrive for to spend."
"I could go through a fair share of gold," says Paddy.
"I am determined for to make a rich man of you," the little boy goes
on. "There is a lady at the point of death, and she is the King's
daughter of France. I have a bottle here in my pocket, and that is
the cure for the disease is on her. I'll be giving it to you, and let
you set out for France at the morning of the day. When you come to
the King's palace the servants will bid you be gone for an ignorant
beggar, but let you not be heeding them at all. Don't quit asking
to see the King, and in the latter end they'll give in to you. It is
with himself the most difficulty will be, for that man will think it
hard to believe the likes of a poor old Irishman could have a better
cure nor all the doctors in the world. A power of them allowed they'd
have her right well in no time, and it is worse they left her. The
King is after giving out that the next person coming with a false
cure be to lose their life. Let you not be scared at that decree,
for you are the man shall succeed. You may promise to have the lady
fit to ride out hunting in nine days. Three drops from the bottle is
all you have to give her, and that for three mornings after other."
Paddy paid great heed to all the boy in the red cap was telling
him. He took the wee bottle that was to make him a rich man, and he
made ready for to set out at the morning of the day.
He was a long time travelling the world before he came to the
palace where the King's daughter of France was lying at the point
of death. The servants made a great mock of the poor old Irishman,
but he paid no attention to their words at all. In the latter end he
got seeing the King, and that gentleman allowed the likes of Paddy
could never succeed when the doctors of the world were after failing.
"I'd only be having the head cut off you, my poor old man!" says he.
"I'm not the least bit in dread, your honour," says Paddy. "The lady
is bound to be ready to ride out hunting in nine days, if she uses
my medicine."
His perseverance and courage won over the King of France, and
permission was given for a trial of the cure.
The first morning, after taking the three drops from the bottle,
the lady turned in her bed. The second morning, after the treatment,
she sat up and ate her food.
The third morning, when she had taken the three drops, the King's
daughter of France rose from her bed. And in nine days she was ready
to ride out hunting.
They could not do enough for Paddy, there was great gratitude in
them. Well, the reward he accepted was a big sack of gold, and that
was the load he brought home to his cabin in Ireland.
The first evening he was sitting by his clear fire, the little boy
came in at the door.
"Didn't I do well for you, Paddy?" says he.
"You did surely. I have more gold in that sack than ever I'll contrive
for to spend."
"Ah, not at all! It is twice as much I'll be getting for you."
"Is it another King's daughter has need of a cure?" asks Paddy.
"No, but a different business entirely. There is a great bully to be
fought in the City of Dublin, and yourself is the man shall win it."
"Do you tell me so!" says Paddy.
"In troth I do. The man you have to fight is a big, fierce fellow no
one can get the better of. He has the youth of the world battered to
pieces, the way no person comes forward against him any more. There is
a fine purse of money put up for to entice a champion to face him; and
there will be great laughter when yourself puts in an appearance. They
will ask if you are wishful to fight with gloves on your hands, but
it is your bare fists are the best. Let you say you'll toss for which
it is to be, but toss with the half-crown I give you, and you are
certain to win. Myself is coming to that place for to second you, and
it's bound to be the grandest bully was seen in the City of Dublin."
With that the little fellow went away out of the house. And at the
morning of the day my brave old Paddy started for Dublin. He wasn't
too long on the road, for he got a lift from a man was driving there
to see the bully. Well, there was odious laughing and cheering when
the crowd saw the champion was come to accept the challenge. The
big man was after battering the youth of the world, allowed he had
no notion of striving against the likes of Paddy. But when no person
else came forward they were bound for to accept him, and they asked
would he wear gloves on his fists.
"We'll be tossing for that," says he, bringing out the half-crown he
had from the little boy in the red cap.
He won the toss, sure enough, and he allowed it was bare-handed he'd
strive. All the time he was looking round, anxious like, but he could
see no sign of the one that was to second him. He went into the ring
in odious dread; but then the little fellow came and stood beside
him. My brave Paddy let out and he struck the champion one blow,
and didn't he lay him dead at his feet.
It was then there was roaring and cheering for the old man. And in
all the confusion the little lad got away; Paddy never seen where he
went. The whole crowd took up a terrible great collection of money
for the champion was after destroying the man with a single blow. That
lot of gold, along with the purse was promised for the fight, filled
a sack as full as it could hold. So Paddy went home well rewarded,
and not a bit the worse of his jaunt to the City of Dublin.
The first evening he was sitting by his own fireside, the little boy
in the red cap came in at the door.
"Didn't I do well for you, Paddy?" says he.
"You did, surely. It is rich for life I am owing to your contrivances."
"Then will you be doing me a service in return for all?" asks the
little fellow.
"Indeed then, I will," says Paddy.
"We have all arranged for to cross over to France this night. We
intend for to bring away the lady you cured, the King's daughter of
that country," says the boy. "But we cannot contrive for to accomplish
the like unless we have flesh and blood along with us. Will you come?"
"Aye, surely!" says Paddy.
With that the two went out at the door and across the road into
a field. It was thronged with regiments of the Good People, past
belief or counting. They were running every way through the field,
calling out:
"Get me a horse, get me a horse!"
And what were they doing only cutting down the bohlans and riding
away on them.
"Get me a horse, get me a horse!" says old Paddy, calling out along
with them.
But the fellow in the red cap came over to him looking terrible vexed.
"Don't let another word out of you," says he, "except one of ourselves
speaks first. Mind what I'm telling you or it will be a cause of
misfortune."
"I'll say no more except in answer to a question," says Paddy.
With that they brought him a white yearling calf, and put him up
for to ride upon it. He thought it was a queer sort of a horse, but
he passed no remarks. And away they rode at a great pace, the Good
People on the bohlans and Paddy on the yearling calf.
They made grand going, and it wasn't long before they came to a big
lake had an island in the middle of it. With one spring the whole party
landed on the island and with another they were safe on the far shore.
"Dam, but that was a great lep for a yearling calf," says Paddy.
With that one of the Good People struck him a blow on the head,
the way the sense was knocked out of him and he fell on the field.
At daylight the old man came to himself, and he lying on the field
by the big lake. He was a long journey from home, and he was weary
travelling round the water and over the hills to his own place. But the
worst of all was the sacks of gold: didn't every bit of the fortune
melt away and leave him poor, the way he was before he came in with
the Good People.