inspiration to her slaves and
is indeed the Gaelic muse--this malignant fairy. Her lovers, the
Gaelic poets, died young. She grew restless, and carried them away to
other worlds, for death does not destroy her power.

8. _The Far Gorta_ (man of hunger).--This is an emaciated fairy that
goes through the land in famine time, begging and bringing good luck
to the giver.

9. _The Banshee_ (Ir. _Bean-sidhe_, _i.e._ fairy woman).--This fairy,
like the Far Gorta, differs from the general run of solitary fairies
by its generally good disposition. She is perhaps not really one of
them at all, but a sociable fairy grown solitary through much sorrow.
The name corresponds to the less common Far Shee (Ir. _Fear Sidhe_), a
man fairy. She wails, as most people know, over the death of a member
of some old Irish family. Sometimes she is an enemy of the house and
screams with triumph, but more often a friend. When more than one
Banshee comes to cry, the man or woman who is dying must have been
very holy or very brave. Occasionally she is most undoubtedly one of
the sociable fairies. Cleena, once an Irish princess and then a
Munster goddess, and now a Sheoque, is thus mentioned by the greatest
of Irish antiquarians.

O'Donovan, writing in 1849 to a friend, who quotes his words in the
_Dublin University Magazine_, says: 'When my grandfather died in
Leinster in 1798, Cleena came all the way from Ton Cleena to lament
him; but she has not been heard ever since lamenting any of our race,
though I believe she still weeps in the mountains of Drumaleaque in
her own country, where so many of the race of Eoghan More are dying of
starvation.' The Banshee on the other hand who cries with triumph is
often believed to be no fairy but a ghost of one wronged by an
ancestor of the dying. Some say wrongly that she never goes beyond the
seas, but dwells always in her own country. Upon the other hand, a
distinguished writer on anthropology assures me that he has heard her
on 1st December 1867, in Pital, near Libertad, Central America, as he
rode through a deep forest. She was dressed in pale yellow, and raised
a cry like the cry of a bat. She came to announce the death of his
father. This is her cry, written down by him with the help of a
Frenchman and a violin.

[Illustration: music no caption ]

He saw and heard her again on 5th February 1871, at 16 Devonshire
Street, Queen's Square, London. She came this time to announce the
death of his eldest ch