cing on the harp and learning the use of arms, for in those
days the bravest warriors were also bards. In this way the spring and
summer and autumn passed; and when the winter came again it chanced that
on a stormy night, when thunder was rattling through the forest, smiting
the huge oaks and hurling them crashing to the earth, Fergus lay awake
thinking of his present lot, and wondering what the future might have in
store for him. The lightning was playing around the hut, and every now
and then a flash brightened up the interior.

After a peal, louder than any which had preceded it, Fergus heard three
loud knocks at the door. He called out to his parents that someone was
knocking.

"If that is so," said his father, "open at once; this is no night to
keep a poor wanderer outside our door."

Fergus did as he was bidden, and as he opened the door a flash of
lightning showed him, standing at the threshold, a little wizened old
man with a small harp under his arm.

"Come in, and welcome," said Fergus, and the little man stepped into
the room.

"It is a wild night, neighbors," said he.

"It is, indeed, a wild night," said the huntsman and his wife, who had
got up and dressed themselves; "and sorry we are we have no better
shelter or better fare to offer you, but we give you the best we have."

"A king cannot do more than his best," said the little man.

The huntsman's wife lit the fire, and soon the pine logs flashed up into
a blaze, and made the hut bright and warm. She then brought forth a
peggin of milk and a cake of barley-bread.

"You must be hungry, sir," she said.

"Hungry I am," said he; "but I wouldn't ask for better fare than this if
I were in the king's palace."

"Thank you kindly, sir," said she, "and I hope you will eat enough, and
that it will do you good."

"And while you are eating your supper," said the huntsman, "I'll make
you a bed of fresh rushes."

"Don't put yourself to that trouble," said the little man. "When I have
done my supper I'll lie down here by the fire, if it is pleasing to you,
and I'll sleep like a top until morning. And now go back to your beds
and leave me to myself, and maybe some time when you won't be expecting
it I'll do a good turn for your kindness to the poor wayfarer."

"Oh, it's no kindness at all," said the huntsman's wife. "It would be
a queer thing if an Irish cabin would not give shelter and welcome in
a wild night like this. So good night, now, and we hope yo