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Legendary fictions of the Irish Celts

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Ossiank and o<strong>the</strong>r Early Legends. 207<br />

weren't <strong>the</strong>y miserable ! and <strong>the</strong>y could see poor Fann<br />

lying on a bank by <strong>the</strong> loch not able to stir hand or<br />

foot.<br />

There <strong>the</strong>y stayed in grief for a day and a night, and<br />

at last <strong>the</strong>y saw Oscur following Brann that was after<br />

going a hundred miles in quest <strong>of</strong> him. Brann found<br />

Oscur lying asleep by <strong>the</strong> Lake <strong>of</strong> Killarney, and he<br />

barked so loud that <strong>the</strong> wolves, and deers, and foxes, and<br />

hares, run fifty miles away ; <strong>the</strong> eagles, and kites, and<br />

hawks, flew five miles up in <strong>the</strong> sky, and <strong>the</strong> fishes<br />

jumped out on dry land. Never a wake did Oscur wake,<br />

and <strong>the</strong>n Brann bit his little finger to <strong>the</strong> bone. " Tat-<br />

<strong>the</strong>ration<br />

!<br />

to you for an Oscur " says poor Brann, and<br />

<strong>the</strong>n he was so mad he seized him by <strong>the</strong> nose. Very<br />

few can stand to have any liberty taken with <strong>the</strong> handle<br />

<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir face—no more did Oscur. He opened his eyes,<br />

and was going to make gibbets <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> dog, but he put up<br />

his muzzle, and began to caoifi, and <strong>the</strong>n trotted <strong>of</strong>f,<br />

looking round at Oscur. " Oh ho !" says he, " Fann or<br />

Goll is in danger," and he followed him hot-foot to <strong>the</strong><br />

North. He came up to Fann, but could hardly hear<br />

what he was striving to tell him. So Oscur put Fann's<br />

thumb to his lips, for himself wasn't able to stir hand or<br />

foot. " And now, Fann," says he, " by <strong>the</strong> virtue <strong>of</strong> your<br />

thumb, tell me how I'm to get this pishrogiie removed."<br />

" Go," says he, in a whisper that had hardly anything<br />

between it and dead silence, " go to <strong>the</strong> fairy hill, and<br />

make <strong>the</strong> enchanter that lives <strong>the</strong>re give you <strong>the</strong> drink <strong>of</strong><br />

youth."<br />

When he came to <strong>the</strong> hill, <strong>the</strong> thief <strong>of</strong> a fairy man<br />

sunk down seven perches into <strong>the</strong> ground, but Oscur was<br />

not to be circumvented. He dug after him till <strong>the</strong> clay<br />

and stones made a new hill, and when <strong>the</strong>y came to <strong>the</strong><br />

solid rock he pinned him, and brought him up to <strong>the</strong><br />

light <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> sun. His face was as gray as ashes, and as<br />

shrivelled as a riissidan apple, and very unwilling he was<br />

to give up <strong>the</strong> cup. But he was forced to do so, and it<br />

v.asn't long till Oscur was by Fann's side, and spilling a

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