Legendary fictions of the Irish Celts

Witchcraft, Sorcery, Ghosts, and Fetches. 167
Making use of a twig which she held in her hand as
a steed, she gracefully soared up the chimney, and was
rapidly followed by the rest. But when it came to the
housekeeper's turn, Shemus interposed. " By your leave,
ma'am!" said he, snatching twig and cap. " Ah, you
desateful ould crocodile ! If I find you here on my
return, there'll be wigs on the green.
" By yarrow and rue,
And my red cap too,
Hie over to England !" *
The words were not out of his mouth when he was
soaring above the ridge-pole, and swiftly ploughing the
air. He was careful to speak no word (being somewhat
conversant in witch lore), as the result w^ould be a
tumble, and the immediate return of the expedition. In
a very short time they had crossed the Wicklow hills, the
Irish Sea, and the Welsh mountains, and were charging
at whirlwind speed the hall-door of a castle. Shemus,
only for the company in which he found himself, would
have cried out for pardon, expecting to be mummy against
the hard oak door in a moment ; but all bewildered he
found himself passing through the key-hole, along a passage,
down a flight of steps, and through a cellar-door
key-hole, before he could form any clear idea of his
situation.
Waking to the full consciousness of his position, he
found himself sitting on a stillion, plenty of lights glimmering
round, and he and his companions, with full
tumblers of frothing wine in hand, hob-nobbing and
drinking healths as jovially and recklessly as if the liquor
was honestly come by, and they were sitting in Shemus's
own kitchen. The red birredh had assimilated Shemus's
nature for the time being to that of his unholy com-
* For the above formulary the words Borraun, Borraun, Borraun
are sometimes substituted. Borran is anger, hoofaiin a domestic
article mentioned already ; the reader is at liberty to fashion a
theory on these data.
!