In the ancient days there were a power of the Good People travelling the land of Breffny. It was easy knowing they were middling proud and conceity in themselves, for they rode upon what appeared to be horses and had music with them, no less! Children were changed by the fairies too, and no matter what way they were reared the like never grew to be right things.

There was once a man the name of Nallagh, lived in a tidy little place beyond the river. The wife and himself had one child, a gosoon, that could never be learned to speak, nor walk, nor stand upright, nor evenly to crawl upon the floor. The whole time the creature had all his makes and shapes [76]natural and good only for a powerful great head was on him.

The mother had her own times minding the youngster. Evenly when he was right big she’d be lifting him out of the bed, at the morning of the day, and fixing him up in a chair. There he’d sit, watching the fire until the fall of night, seemingly contented and in the best of humour. He had great observation for all that would be doing in the place, and if the least thing went astray he’d have an odious cor on him. The fire was his whole delight, when a turf fell and the sparks flew he’d open his mouth until you’d swear he was going to let a crow out of him. But never a sound came at all.

It happened one time that Nallagh and the wife went to market, leaving the servant boy and servant girl to mind the place.

“Let you keep up a good fire for the youngster, the way he will not be lonesome, and he looking on the glowing turf is his whole delight. Let you attend to your business the same as if myself was standing by to bid you do all things particular and tasty,” says the mistress, and she going out at the door. [77]

Not a long were the two by their lone before they quit working and began for to play themselves through the kitchen.

Says the servant boy: “We’d do well to be making a little feast, considering herself is not in it, and the wee coley but a silent creature will not be clashing on us at all.”

With that they brought the best of butter, cream and the like from the dairy, and the girl mixed all in a meskin for to make a butter cake. They built the fire with turf enough to roast the dinner of a giant, set the pot-hooks in the ears of the pan and let down the crook for to hang it on. “With the help of the Living Powers, that’ll be the luscious bit,” says the servant girl, putting down the batter for to bake.

The whole time they were at their diversions Nallagh’s child never quit watching the pair. Maybe it’s in expectation he was of getting his taste of the feast.

The butter cake was doing nicely, turning a grand colour and a lovely smell rising off it. The two heroes were in the best of humour, chatting other and funning, when all of a sudden the servant boy chanced to look out over the half door. “I declare [78]to man, we’re destroyed entirely,” says he. “Himself and the mistress are without!”

Sure enough it was Nallagh and the wife were after delaying in the market but a short space only. The girl, hearing tell of them coming in on her sooner nor they were expected, had the wit to w............