The Fairy Nurse

Once upon a time, a little farmer and his wife lived near Coolgarrow. They had three children, and my story takes place when the youngest was still a baby. The wife was a good wife, but her mind was always on her family and the farm.

She hardly ever said her prayers without falling asleep, and she thought the time in church was twice as long as it needed to be. So, my friends, one day she let her husband and her two children go ahead to Mass, while she went to ask a fairy man for advice about a sick cow.

She was late for church, and she was sorry all that day, because her husband was sad about it, and she loved him very much.

Late that night, he was woken by the cries of his children calling out, "Mother! Mother!" When he sat up and rubbed his eyes, his wife was gone. When he asked the little ones what had happened to their mother, they said they saw the room full of tiny men and women, dressed in white, red, and green, and their mother in the middle of them, going out the door as if she were walking in her sleep. He ran out and searched everywhere around the house, but he found no trace of her for many days.

Well, the poor man was miserable, for he loved his wife as much as she loved him. It brought tears to his cheeks to see his poor children neglected and dirty, as they often were. They would have been worse off if it weren't for a kind neighbor who used to look in whenever she could spare the time. The baby was away with a nurse.

About six weeks later, just as he was going out to his work one morning, a neighbor who helped women when they were ill came up to him and walked with him to the field. This is what she told him:

"Just as I was falling asleep last night, I heard a horse's tramp on the grass and a knock at the door. When I opened it, there was a handsome dark man mounted on a black horse. He told me to get ready quickly, because a lady needed me.

As soon as I put on my cloak and things, he took my hand, and I found myself sitting behind him before I knew what was happening. 'Where are we going, sir?' I asked. 'You'll soon know,' he said, and he drew his fingers across my eyes, and I couldn't see a thing.

I held on tight, not knowing if we were going forward or backward or how long we traveled, until my hand was taken again and I felt the ground under me. He passed his fingers over my eyes again, and there we were before a castle door.

We went in through a big hall and great rooms painted in fine green colors with red and gold bands and ornaments, and the finest carpets, chairs, tables, and window curtains, with grand ladies and gentlemen walking about.

At last we came to a bedroom where a beautiful lady lay in bed with a fine, bouncing baby boy beside her. The lady clapped her hands, and the Dark Man came in and kissed her and the baby, praised me, and gave me a bottle of green ointment to rub all over the child.

"So I rubbed the child, sure enough. But my right eye began to sting, and I put up my finger to rub it, and then I stared, for never in my life was I so frightened.

The beautiful room was now a big, rough cave, with water oozing over the edges of the stones and through the clay. The lady, the lord, and the child were withered, starving creatures—nothing but skin and bone—and their rich clothes were old rags.

I didn't let on that I noticed any difference, and after a while, the Dark Man said, 'Go before me to the hall door, and I will be with you in a few moments to see you safely home.' Well, just as I turned into the outer cave, who should I see watching near the door but poor Molly.

She looked around, terrified, and whispered to me, 'I'm brought here to nurse the child of the king and queen of the fairies. But there is one chance of saving me. All the court will pass the cross near Templeshambo next Friday night on a visit to the fairies of Old Ross.

If John can catch me by the hand or cloak when I ride by, and has the courage not to let go, I'll be safe. Here's the king. Don't open your mouth to answer. I saw what happened with the ointment.'

The Dark Man didn't once look toward Molly, and he seemed to have no suspicion of me. When we came out, I looked around, and where do you think we were? In the dyke of the Rath of Cromogue.

I was on the horse again, which was nothing but a big ragweed, and I was terrified I'd fall off every minute. But nothing happened until I found myself in my own cabin. The king slipped five guineas into my hand as soon as I was on the ground, thanked me, and bid me good night.

I hope I never see his face again. I got into bed and couldn't sleep for a long time. And when I looked at my five guineas this morning—the ones I left in the table drawer last thing—I found five withered oak leaves. Bad luck to the giver!"

Well, you can imagine the fright, the joy, and the grief the poor man felt when the woman finished her story. They talked and talked, but we needn't mind what they said until Friday night came, when both were standing where the mountain road crosses the road to Ross.

There they stood, looking toward the bridge of Thuar, in the dead of night, with a little moonlight shining from over Kilachdiarmid. At last, she gave a start. "By this and by that," she said, "here they come, bridles jingling and feathers tossing!" He looked but could see nothing.

She stood trembling, her eyes wide open, looking down the way to the ford of Ballinacoola. "I see your wife," she said. "She's riding on the outside, just close enough to brush against us. We'll walk on quietly, as if we suspect nothing, and when we pass, I'll give you a shove.

If you don't do your duty then, woe be with you!"

Well, they walked on slowly, their poor hearts beating in their chests. Though he could see nothing, he heard a faint jingle and trampling and rustling, and at last, he got the shove she promised.

He spread out his arms, and there was his wife's waist within them, and he could see her clearly. But such a hullaballoo rose up as if there were an earthquake! He found himself surrounded by horrible-looking things, roaring at him and trying to pull his wife away.

But he made the sign of the cross and bid them be gone in God's name, and held his wife as if his arms were made of iron. In a moment, everything was as silent as the grave, and the poor woman lay in a faint in the arms of her husband and her good neighbor.

Well, in good time, she was minding her family and her business again. And I'll wager that after the fright she got, she spent more time on her knees and avoided fairy men all the days of the week, especially on Sunday.

It is hard to have anything to do with the good people without getting a mark from them. My brave nurse didn't escape either. She was one Thursday at the market of Enniscorthy when she saw, walking among the tubs of butter, the Dark Man, looking very hungry and taking a scoop out of one tub and then another.

"Oh, sir," she said, very foolishly, "I hope your lady is well, and the baby." "Pretty well, thank you," he said, looking rather frightened. "How do I look in this new suit?" he asked, moving to one side of her. "I can't see you plainly at all, sir," she said.

"Well, now?" he asked, moving around her back to the other side. "Indeed, sir, your coat looks no better than a withered dock leaf." "Maybe, then," he said, "it will be different now," and he struck the eye closest to him with a switch.

Friends, she never saw a glimmer with that eye again until the day she died.