Larry changed color. “I do,” he replied--“The Lord protect me: Is that them?” “What did you hear?” said the man. “Why,” returned the other, “I heard the bushes of the rath all movin', jist as if a blast o' wind came among them!” “Whisht,” said the fairy-man, “they're here; you mustn't open your lips while you're in the house. I know what you want, an' will see your son. Do you hear anything more? If you do, lay your forefinger along your nose; but don't spake.” Larry heard with astonishment, the music of a pair of bagpipes. The tune played was one which, according to a popular legend, was first played by Satan; it is called: “Go to the Devil and shake yourself.” To our own knowledge, the peasantry in certain parts of Ireland refuse to sing it for the above reason. The mystery of the music was heightened too by the fact of its being played, as Larry thought, behind the gable of the cabin, which stood against the side of the rath, out of which, indeed, it seemed to proceed. Larry laid his finger along his nose, as he had been desired; and this appearing to satisfy the fairy-man, he waved his hand to the door, thus intimating that his visitor should depart; which he did immediately, but not without observing that this wild-looking being closed and bolted the door after him. It is unnecessary to say that he was rather anxious to get off the premises of the good people; he therefore lost little time until he arrived at his own cabin; but judge of his wonder when, on entering it, he found the long-legged spectre awaiting his return. “_Banaght dhea orrin!_” he exclaimed, starting back; “the blessing of God be upon us! Is it here before me you are?” “Hould your tongue, man,” said the other, with a smile of mysterious triumph. “Is it that you wondher at? Ha, ha! That's little of it!” “But how did you know my name? or who I was? or where I lived at all? Heaven protect us! it's beyant belief, clane out.” “Hould your tongue,” replied the man; “don't be axin' me any thing o' the kind. Clear out, both of ye, till I begin my pisthrogues wid the sick child. Clear out, I say.” With some degree of apprehension, Larry and Sheelah left the house as they had been ordered, and the Fairy-man having pulled out a flask of poteen, administered a dose of it to Phelim; and never yet did patient receive his medicine with such a relish. He licked his lips, and fixed his eye upon it with a longing look. “Be Gorra,” said he, “that's fine stuff entirely. Will you lave me the bottle?” “No,” said the Fairy-man, “but I'll call an' give you a little of it wanst a day.” “Ay do,” replied Phelim; “the divil a fear o' me, if I get enough of it. I hope I'll see you often.”