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 					<p><dfn>Out of forty-nine suits which he had, he never lost one but seventeen</dfn>.⁠—Thady’s language in this instance is a specimen of a mode of rhetoric common in Ireland. An astonishing assertion is made in the beginning of a sentence, which ceases to be in the least surprising, when you hear the qualifying explanation that follows. Thus a man who is in the last stage of staggering drunkenness will, if he can articulate, swear to you⁠—“Upon his conscience now, and may he never stir from the spot alive if he is telling a lie, upon his conscience he has not tasted a drop of anything, good or bad, since morning at-all-at-all, but half a pint of whiskey, please your honour.” <a href="chapter-1.xhtml#noteref-11" epub:type="backlink">↩</a></p>
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-					<p><dfn>Fairy mounts</dfn>.⁠—Barrows. These fairy-mounts are called anthills in England. They are held in high reverence by the common people in Ireland. A gentleman, who in laying out his lawn had occasion to level one of these hillocks, could not prevail upon any of his labourers to begin the ominous work. He was obliged to take a <i xml:lang="en-IE">loy</i> from one of their reluctant hands, and began the attack himself. The labourers agreed that the vengeance of the fairies would fall upon the head of the presumptuous mortal who first disturbed them in their retreat. It is said that these high mounts were of great service to the natives of Ireland when Ireland was invaded by the Danes. Watch was always kept on them, and upon the approach of an enemy a fire was lighted to give notice to the next watch, and thus the intelligence was quickly communicated through the country. <em>Some years ago</em>, the common people believed that these barrows were inhabited by fairies, or, as they called them, by the “good people.” “Oh, troth, to the best of my belief, and to the best of my judgment and opinion,” said an elderly man to the Editor, “it was only the old people that had nothing to do, and got together, and were telling stories about them fairies, but to the best of my judgment there’s nothing in it. Only this I heard myself not very many years back from a decent kind of a man, a grazier, that, as he was coming just ‘fair and easy’ [quietly] from the fair, with some cattle and sheep, that he had not sold, just at the church of⁠⸻, at an angle of the road like, he was met by a good-looking man, who asked him where he was going? And he answered, ‘Oh, far enough, I must be going all night.’ ‘No, that you mustn’t nor won’t (says the man), you’ll sleep with me the night, and you’ll want for nothing, nor your cattle nor sheep neither, nor your “beast” [horse]; so come along with me.’ With that the grazier ‘lit’ [alighted] from his horse, and it was dark night; but presently he finds himself, he does not know in the wide world how, in a fine house, and plenty of everything to eat and drink; nothing at all wanting that he could wish for or think of. And he does not ‘mind’ [recollect or know] how at last he falls asleep; and in the morning he finds himself lying, not in ever a bed or a house at all, but just in the angle of the road where first he met the strange man: there he finds himself lying on his back on the grass, and all his sheep feeding as quiet as ever all round about him, and his horse the same way, and the bridle of the beast over his wrist. And I asked him what he thought of it; and from first to last he could think of nothing, but for certain sure it must have been the fairies that entertained him so well. For there was no house to see anywhere nigh hand, or any building, or barn, or place at all, but only the church and the <i xml:lang="en-IE">mote</i> [barrow]. There’s another odd thing enough that they tell about this same church, that if any person’s corpse, that had not a right to be buried in that churchyard, went to be burying there in it, no, not all the men, women, or childer in all Ireland could get the corpse any way into the churchyard; but as they would be trying to go into the churchyard, their feet would seem to be going backwards instead of forwards; ay, continually backwards the whole funeral would seem to go; and they would never set foot with the corpse in the churchyard. Now they say that it is the fairies do all this; but it is my opinion it is all idle talk, and people are after being wiser now.”</p>
+					<p><dfn>Fairy mounts</dfn>.⁠—Barrows. These fairy-mounts are called anthills in England. They are held in high reverence by the common people in Ireland. A gentleman, who in laying out his lawn had occasion to level one of these hillocks, could not prevail upon any of his labourers to begin the ominous work. He was obliged to take a <i xml:lang="en-IE">loy</i> from one of their reluctant hands, and began the attack himself. The labourers agreed that the vengeance of the fairies would fall upon the head of the presumptuous mortal who first disturbed them in their retreat. It is said that these high mounts were of great service to the natives of Ireland when Ireland was invaded by the Danes. Watch was always kept on them, and upon the approach of an enemy a fire was lighted to give notice to the next watch, and thus the intelligence was quickly communicated through the country. <em>Some years ago</em>, the common people believed that these barrows were inhabited by fairies, or, as they called them, by the “good people.” “Oh, troth, to the best of my belief, and to the best of my judgment and opinion,” said an elderly man to the Editor, “it was only the old people that had nothing to do, and got together, and were telling stories about them fairies, but to the best of my judgment there’s nothing in it. Only this I heard myself not very many years back from a decent kind of a man, a grazier, that, as he was coming just ‘fair and easy’ [quietly] from the fair, with some cattle and sheep, that he had not sold, just at the church of ⸻, at an angle of the road like, he was met by a good-looking man, who asked him where he was going? And he answered, ‘Oh, far enough, I must be going all night.’ ‘No, that you mustn’t nor won’t (says the man), you’ll sleep with me the night, and you’ll want for nothing, nor your cattle nor sheep neither, nor your “beast” [horse]; so come along with me.’ With that the grazier ‘lit’ [alighted] from his horse, and it was dark night; but presently he finds himself, he does not know in the wide world how, in a fine house, and plenty of everything to eat and drink; nothing at all wanting that he could wish for or think of. And he does not ‘mind’ [recollect or know] how at last he falls asleep; and in the morning he finds himself lying, not in ever a bed or a house at all, but just in the angle of the road where first he met the strange man: there he finds himself lying on his back on the grass, and all his sheep feeding as quiet as ever all round about him, and his horse the same way, and the bridle of the beast over his wrist. And I asked him what he thought of it; and from first to last he could think of nothing, but for certain sure it must have been the fairies that entertained him so well. For there was no house to see anywhere nigh hand, or any building, or barn, or place at all, but only the church and the <i xml:lang="en-IE">mote</i> [barrow]. There’s another odd thing enough that they tell about this same church, that if any person’s corpse, that had not a right to be buried in that churchyard, went to be burying there in it, no, not all the men, women, or childer in all Ireland could get the corpse any way into the churchyard; but as they would be trying to go into the churchyard, their feet would seem to be going backwards instead of forwards; ay, continually backwards the whole funeral would seem to go; and they would never set foot with the corpse in the churchyard. Now they say that it is the fairies do all this; but it is my opinion it is all idle talk, and people are after being wiser now.”</p>
 					<p>The country people in Ireland certainly <em>had</em> great admiration mixed with reverence, if not dread, of fairies. They believed that beneath these fairy mounts were spacious subterraneous palaces, inhabited by “the good people,” who must not on any account be disturbed. When the wind raises a little eddy of dust upon the road, the poor people believe that it is raised by the fairies, that it is a sign that they are journeying from one of the fairies’ mounts to another, and they say to the fairies, or to the dust as it passes, “God speed ye, gentlemen; God speed ye.” This averts any evil that “the good people” might be inclined to do them. There are innumerable stories told of the friendly and unfriendly feats of these busy fairies; some of these tales are ludicrous, and some romantic enough for poetry. It is a pity that poets should lose such convenient, though diminutive machinery. By the by, Parnell, who showed himself so deeply “skilled in faerie lore,” was an Irishman; and though he has presented his fairies to the world in the ancient English dress of “Britain’s isle, and Arthur’s days,” it is probable that his first acquaintance with them began in his native country.</p>
 					<p>Some remote origin for the most superstitious or romantic popular illusions or vulgar errors may often be discovered. In Ireland, the old churches and churchyards have been usually fixed upon as the scenes of wonders. Now antiquaries tell us, that near the ancient churches in that kingdom caves of various constructions have from time to time been discovered, which were formerly used as granaries or magazines by the ancient inhabitants, and as places to which they retreated in time of danger. There is (<abbr>p.</abbr> 84 of the <i epub:type="se:name.publication.journal"><abbr epub:type="z3998:initialism">R.I.A.</abbr> Transactions</i> for 1789) a particular account of a number of these artificial caves at the west end of the church of Killossy, in the county of Kildare. Under a rising ground, in a dry sandy soil, these subterraneous dwellings were found: they have pediment roofs, and they communicate with each other by small apertures. In the Brehon laws these are mentioned, and there are fines inflicted by those laws upon persons who steal from the subterraneous granaries. All these things show that there was a real foundation for the stories which were told of the appearance of lights, and of the sounds of voices, near these places. The persons who had property concealed there very willingly countenanced every wonderful relation that tended to make these places objects of sacred awe or superstitious terror. <a href="chapter-1.xhtml#noteref-12" epub:type="backlink">↩</a></p>
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