nt for his heterodoxy on matrimonial subjects. This is
one explanation of the fact that Leprechawns are always seen alone, though
other authorities make the Leprechawn solitary by preference, he having
learned the hollowness of fairy friendship and the deceitfulness of fairy
femininity, and left the society of his kind in disgust at its lack of
sincerity.

It must be admitted that the latter explanation seems the more reasonable,
since whenever the Leprechawn has been captured and forced to engage in
conversation with his captor he displayed conversational powers that
showed an ability to please, and as woman kind, even among fairy circles,
are, according to an Irish proverb, "aisily caught be an oily tongue," the
presumption is against the expulsion of the Leprechawn and in favor of his
voluntary retirement.

[Illustration: Returning the next morning with the spade]

However this may be, one thing is certain to the minds of all wise women
and fairy-men, that he is the "thrickiest little divil that iver wore a
brogue," whereof abundant proof is given. There was Tim O'Donovan, of
Kerry, who captured a Leprechawn and forced him to disclose the spot where
the "pot o' goold" was concealed. Tim was going to make the little rogue
dig up the money for him, but, on the Leprechawn advancing the plea that
he had no spade, released him, marking the spot by driving a stick into
the ground and placing his hat on it. Returning the next morning with a
spade, the spot pointed out by the "little ottomy av a desaver" being in
the centre of a large bog, he found, to his unutterable disgust, that the
Leprechawn was too smart for him, for in every direction innumerable
sticks rose out of the bog, each bearing aloft an old "caubeen" so closely
resembling his own that poor Tim, after long search, was forced to admit
himself baffled and give up the gold that, on the evening before, had been
fairly within his grasp, if "he'd only had the brains in his shkull to
make the Leprechawn dig it for him, shpade or no shpade."

Even when caught, therefore, the captor must outwit the captive, and the
wily little rascal, having a thousand devices, generally gets away without
giving up a penny, and sometimes succeeds in bringing the eager
fortune-hunter to grief, a notable instance of which was the case of
Dennis O'Bryan, of Tipperary, as narrated by an old woman of Crusheen.

"It's well beknownst that the Leprechawn has a purse that's got the