Some folks say that the fairies were once angels, cast out of heaven for their sins. They fell to Earth and grew smaller and smaller. Today, people say, the fairies dance on moonlit nights in fairy rings. And they play all kinds of tricks on innocent folks.
Well, one night a merry troop of fairies were dancing in the moonlight on a green riverbank. They danced hand in hand, so light on their feet that the dew trembled but did not fall from the leaves. They twirled and bobbed and sang until one of the fairies who stood on lookout atop a tall tree called to them to stop."The priest is coming! Everyone hide!"
At this warning, the fairies ran away as fast as they could. Some hid under the foxglove leaves, their little caps peeking out like red bells. Some crept under the shadow of stones or lay flat beneath tall blades of grass. Some climbed lily stalks and held on tightly, while others dived into the water.
Just then the priest rode by upon his little gray pony. He was thinking to himself that he would stop at the first cottage he saw, for he was growing tired from his journey. Before long he came to a little cottage where a family by the name of O'Leary lived.
Lifting the gate latch, the priest called out, "Blessings on all who reside there!"
He was a welcome guest, to be sure, for he was well loved in all of that country. But when Colin O'Leary saw him enter, his heart grew heavy. Poor Colin was sad, for he had little to offer the good priest to eat. He was a poor, hard-working man who owned a small farm, one cow and a field full of potatoes. He could not bear the thought of serving the priest such a meager meal.
Suddenly, as Colin's wife, Colleen, was cooking the potatoes over the fire, Colin remembered his net. Just that morning he had set his net in the river hoping he might catch a fish or two.
Ahh, thought he to himself, there's no harm in stepping down to the river on this clear moonlit night to see if I've caught some fine fish. A salmon would do well for a priest.
"Excuse me, Father," Colin said politely to the priest. "I will return in just a moment." And off to the river went Colin O'Leary.
He leaned down and looked into his net and to his delight saw the finest salmon he had ever seen. But just as he was about to grasp the fish, the net was jerked from his hands and the salmon swam downstream as fast as it could.
Colin looked sadly after him. "May some bitter luck come after you!" he cried to the fish. "Surely an evil thing it was helped you, for I felt something pull that net out of my hands."
"Oh, Colin, you are wrong!" came the fairies' voices. "More than 100 of us pulled against you!"
Colin looked down and to his amazement saw a whole troop of fairies standing at his feet, shaking their fists at him.
"Don't worry about the priest's supper, Colin O'Leary," one of the fairies said. "But if you go back home and ask him one question for us, we'll give you as fine a supper as any you have ever seen. It will appear on your table, one, two, three!"
"Oh no," Colin said. "I'll have nothing to do with fairies. I know better than to sell my soul to any fairy!"
Now another of the fairies stood before Colin and pleaded with him. "All we wish is that you ask one civil question of the priest. Go and ask him if our souls will be saved on the Last Day. If you wish us well, Colin O'Leary, you will bring us his answer, for we are lost creatures and we must know the answer to this, our gravest question."
With that the fairies disappeared behind the tall blades of grass. Colin returned to his cottage.
When he arrived home, he sat down beside the priest. "Father," he asked shyly, "may I be so bold as to ask you a simple question?"
"What would that be, son?" the priest asked.
"Father, will the souls of the Little People be saved on the Last Day?"
"Who bid you ask that question, O'Leary?" said the priest, fixing a stern look on Colin.
"I tell no lies, Father," Colin said quietly. "'Twas the Little People themselves who sent me to ask you the question. They are down upon the riverbank awaiting your answer."
"Go back to the riverbank," said the priest. "Tell the fairies that if they want to know the answer to this question, they must come to me themselves. I'll answer that and any other question they ask, but they must not bother innocent people. They must not make threats or offer bribes. Tell the Little People that, Colin O'Leary."
Colin hurried down to the riverbank. The moment he arrived, the fairies scurried from their hiding places and surrounded him. They looked up at him, their faces filled with curiosity, their little feet tapping the earth until the ground trembled.
"What is the answer, Colin?" they asked.
Colin spoke boldly and gave them the priest's answer.
When the fairies heard this, they began to moan and wail. The lilies shook; the leaves quivered; the ground grew wet with their tears. The whole earth seemed to weep with the fairies. A moment later, they stood up and hurried quickly away, as if they had never been there at all.
Now Colin stood all alone beneath a weeping willow tree, under the bright circle of the moon. He looked all around him and wondered at the sight he had just seen, and was amazed at the beauty of this riverbank, which he had seldom noticed before.
Soon he walked back to his cottage. He opened the door, and there he saw the good priest seated comfortably at the table. A pitcher of milk and a plate of fresh butter from Colin's cow stood before him. Colleen placed before the priest a big roasted potato that burst from its skin, all white and fresh and warm.
Colin took his place at the table. He began to eat without speaking a word. When the priest was through, he licked his lips.
"Ahh," said the priest. "I love nothing more than a big hot potato. More than a dozen salmon and more than a whole fairy feast, I cherish a potato for a meal. This is the stuff I adore."
Afterward Colin was thankful for all that he had. He never wished for more than his fine family, his field of potatoes and his cow. And he never dared cross the riverbank under the light of the moon, for he wanted to resist the temptations of the Little People.