Legendary fictions of the Irish Celts

Witchcraft, Sorcery, Ghosts, and Fetches. 1 69
THE CROCK FOUND IN THE RATH.
If any of our English readers are unfortunately ignorant
of the social position of tailors in the remote
districts of this country, let them hereby learn that Brian
Neill, the unlucky hero of this narrative, when he arose
on Monday morning, betook himself to the farmer's
house where his services were required, took the measures
of his clients, sat on the large kitchen table, kept
his goose in the turf fire, mended and made clothes,
chatted with the women, and there remained till his
business was finished. He then repaired to some other
farmstead where his presence was desirable, and thus his
life glided on,
Brian was employed as
Mrs. Rooney's great table.
mentioned one afternoon on
He had been remarked all
the day for an unwonted silence, and now began to
acquaint Mrs. Rooney with the subject on which his
thoughts were employed. " Be this and be that, ma'am,
it's very strange that I should have the same dream for
the last three nights. There it was, in the rath of Knocmor,
I saw, as plain as I see you now, a big grey stone,
and an old thorn tree, and the hole between them, and
the crock at the bottom of it. I declare to you I can't
stand it any longer. I'll take a spade and shovel, and
try my fortune, and have it off my mind. You needn't
tell anybody where I'm gone."
About three hours afterwards he returned in a very
dismantled condition, his hair in moist flakes, his eyes
glassy, and his whole appearance betokening one who
would drop in pieces if some strong power were not keeping
him together. " Oh ma'am, honey !" he faltered out,
" let me lie down somewhere ; I think I'll die." Mrs.
Rooney had him put into the bed belonging to the
servant boy, and good-naturedly brought him a warm
drink of whey in a quarter of an hour or so. She then
sat down by the bed ; and when he had refreshed him-
self, and seemed somewhat restored, she requested to