found himself in Murdoch's
Rath.

And this was the smallest part of the wonder; for the Rath was full of
fairies.

When Pat got in they were dancing round and round till his feet
tingled to look at them, being a good dancer himself. And as he sat on
the side of the Rath, and snapped his fingers to mark the time, the
dancing stopped, and a little man comes up, in a black hat and a green
coat, with white stockings, and red shoes on his feet.

"Won't you take a turn with us, Pat?" says he, bowing till he nearly
touched the ground. And, indeed, he had not far to go, for he was
barely two feet high.

"Don't say it twice, sir," says Pat. "It's myself will be proud to
foot the floor wid ye;" and before you could look round, there was Pat
in the circle dancing away for bare life.

At first his feet felt like feathers for lightness, and it seemed as
if he could have gone on for ever. But at last he grew tired, and
would have liked to stop, but the fairies would not, and so they
danced on and on. Pat tried to think of something _good_ to say, that
he might free himself from the spell, but all he could think of was:

"A dozen hanks of grey yarn for Missis Murphy."

"Three gross of bright buttons for the tailor."

"Half an ounce of throat drops for Father Andrew, and an ounce of
snuff for his housekeeper," and so on.

And it seemed to Pat that the moon was on the one side of the Rath
when they began to dance, and on the other side when they left off;
but he could not be sure after all that going round. One thing was
plain enough. He danced every bit of leather off the soles of his
feet, and they were blistered so that he could hardly stand; but all
the little folk did was to stand and hold their sides with laughing at
him.

At last the one who spoke before stepped up to him, and--"Don't break
your heart about it, Pat," says he; "I'll lend you my own shoes till
the morning, for you seem to be a good-natured sort of a boy."

Well, Pat looked at the fairy man's shoes, that were the size of a
baby's, and he looked at his own feet; but not wishing to be uncivil,
"Thank ye kindly, sir," says he. "And if your honour 'll be good
enough to put them on for me, maybe you won't spoil the shape." For he
thought to himself, "Small blame to me if the little gentleman can't
get them to fit."

With that he sat down on the side of the Rath, and the fairy man put
on the shoes for him, and no sooner did they touch Pat's feet, than
the