Celtic Fairy Tales
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For young and old alike—eight captivating tales filled with whimsy, charm and magic: "The Fate of the Children of Lir," "The Shepherd of Middvai," "Beth Gellert," "The Tale of Ivan," "Morraha," "The Story of Deirdre," "The Llanfabon Changeling," and "The Sea-Maiden." Reset in large, easy-to-read type.
haste. Suddenly she paused, and said aloud: "Where are the women? they delay too long." Then a second knock came to the door, and a voice called as before, "Open! open!" The mistress felt herself obliged to rise and open to the call, and immediately a second witch entered, having two horns on her forehead, and in her hand a wheel for spinning wool. "Give me place," she said; "I am the Witch of the two Horns," and she began to spin as quick as lightning. And so the knocks went on, and the call
hound, hound to hunt deer, deer to swim water, water to wet flag, flag to edge axe, axe to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one." "You will not get me," said the butter, "until you get a cat who shall scrape me." He came to the cat. "What news to-day?" said the cat. "It's my own news I'm seeking. Going looking for a cat, cat to scrape butter, butter to go in claw of hound, hound to hunt deer, deer to swim water, water to wet flag, flag to edge
when he came out, "Go, Jack, and look for the heifers, and bring them home." "And where will I look for 'em?" "Go and search for them as if they were your own." The heifers were all in the paddock before sunset. Next morning, says the master, "Jack, the path across the bog to the pasture is very bad; the sheep does be sinking in it every step; go and make the sheep's feet a good path." About an hour after he came to the edge of the bog, and what did he find Jack at but sharpening a carving
"ANDREW COFFEY! ANDREW COFFEY! IT'S BURNING ME YE ARE." Sorry enough my grandfather was, and he vowed he wouldn't do so again. "You'd better not," said Patrick, and he gave him a cock of his eye, and a grin of his teeth, that just sent a shiver down Andrew Coffey's back. Well it was odd, that here he should be in a thick wood he had never set eyes upon, turning Patrick Rooney upon a spit. You can't wonder at my grandfather thinking and thinking and not minding the fire. "ANDREW COFFEY, ANDREW
the filly's ear, king's son, or else we are lost." He did so, and it was a bladder of water that was in her ear this time. He threw it behind him and there was a fresh-water loch, twenty miles in length and breadth, behind them. The giant came on, but with the speed he had on him, he was in the middle of the loch, and he went under, and he rose no more. On the next day the young companions were come in sight of his father's house. "Now," says she, "my father is drowned, and he won't trouble us