The kitchen was not large, and it was already well filled. The big bed had been moved over into a corner to make room for dancing. The older people, who did not dance, sat on the edge of the bed, while the children nestled together on the floor against the wall. The turf fire was glowing in the big fireplace, and giving a pleasant welcome to all. On the rafters overhead, some hens were fast asleep, not seeming to mind the music and laughter in the least. The piper was playing his jolliest tunes, and two young people were dancing a jig when Norah arrived. "Good! good!" cried the rest of the company, as the young girl went around and around the young man, her partner, never once losing the step. Her heavy shoes made a great clatter as they came down on the paved floor. Her face grew redder and redder. Her breath came harder and harder, but she would not give up dancing till the piper himself left off playing. "Let us bob for apples now," said the host. "We will give these young folks a chance to get their breath." A big tub of water was brought in, and some apples were set floating in it. Who would duck for the apples? Every one who had a chance. It did not matter how old or how young they might be. It was such fun! One head after another went down into the water to see who could seize an apple between his teeth without using his hands to help him. When the company grew tired of this sport, there were other games and more lively dances. Then there were refreshments. There was plenty of tea for the big folks, and bread and cheese and potato cakes for all. As they sat eating, the piper began to play a soft, sad tune. "They do say he learned it of the fairies," whispered Mollie to Norah. Just then, the children's school-teacher came and sat down beside them. He heard the word "Fairies." "Do you believe in fairies?" he asked Norah. She lifted her blue eyes in surprise. "Sure, sir. They live in the hills and caves. And there be some, I have heard, who have their homes under the waves of the sea. This night they are more lively than at most times. "Mother was careful this morning not to drain the milk-pail. She wanted to leave a drop in case the fairy folk should come along and wish for a sup. And sure, sir, father never puts the fire out at night. He says maybe the fairies might like to rest a bit on our hearth before the morning." The schoolmaster smiled, but did not contradict the little girl. He thought it would only trouble the child. Norah's father had once said, "The teacher is a man of great larnin'. And, strange to say, I have heard that people of larnin' have little belief in fairy folk." "Would you like me to tell you a story?" asked the teacher, after a moment or two. "Oh, plaze do, indade!" said Norah and Mollie together. They loved their teacher dearly.