Leprechaun in Late Winter

by Mary Pope Osborne

The king nodded and raised both arms into the air. Jack was desperate. He didn’t want to live the rest of his life as a skunk!

  “Wait! Please!” Jack shouted. “I’m sorry I was rude! Before you change us, I really, really need to tell Augusta some things! Thank you!”

  The king looked at Jack for a long moment. Then he lowered his arms, and the crowd grew silent.

  “Thank you!” said Jack. “Augusta, listen to me! You should go back home. You’re good for lots of things back there! You’re very kind! And Mary said you have a brave heart and a fine mind! Those are really good things to have!”

  Tears rolled down Augusta’s cheeks. She shook her head.

  “Listen to me, please!” Jack went on. “Mary says you’re not happy. But some things do make you happy, Augusta. You said you feel close to nature! You said you love simple folk like Mary. And I know you love stories, too! Mary said you remembered every story she told you! You used to tell them yourself, word for word! You have a great memory!”

  “He’s right, Augusta!” yelled Annie. “Those are your gifts! You need to give your gifts to the world!”

  Augusta was still for a moment. Then she shook her head. “I want to stay!” she said.

  “You have had your say!” the High King shouted at Jack and Annie. “Now prepare to become skunks!” He raised his arms again.

  Oh, no! thought Jack.

  “Wait, Finvara!” said the High Queen.

  The High Queen stepped closer to Augusta. The queen wore a silver cloak that glittered with diamonds. She had jewels in her long red hair that shone like stars. Her high, clear voice rang like a bell. “I am Queen Aine of the Shee,” she said. “The boy said you love stories—and that you remember every story you hear. Is this true?”

  Augusta nodded.

  “Then listen now to our story,” said Queen Aine.

  All the Shee were very still, watching Augusta and their queen.

  “In the morning of time, out of a rosy sky and a windy light, we came,” said Queen Aine. “We were tribes of a supernatural people called the Tuatha Dé Danann. Strong, fearless, and noble we were. Five roads carried our armies through the wild, wooded lands of Ireland, and for eons we ruled the Irish world.

  “But when the humans came, the wild woods gave way to villages and pastures. Our tribes hid in the hollow hills, in ruined forts, and under the sea. Over time we made ourselves smaller and smaller so we could more easily hide from humans.

  “Eventually we became known as the Shee, and we were mocked as the Wee Folk of Faerie. But, in truth, we are a tribe of the great Tuatha Dé Danann, and we live in enchanted places like this one, protected by what is left of our magic. Do you understand?”

  “I do, yes,” breathed Augusta.

  “Our stories were passed down for centuries in the old language of Ireland. But as the old language was replaced with English, the stories began to fade away,” Queen Aine said.

  “Go home now with your friends, human child. Go back, for our sake. Seek out the old storytellers, and ask them to tell you the tales of my people. Learn the old language. Read the old manuscripts. Write our stories down and share them before they are lost completely. Share them with all the people of Ireland and all the world. Will you do that for us? Will you use your gifts to tell our stories and restore our dignity?”

  Augusta’s eyes shone. “Yes,” she said, “yes, I will, yes.”

  “Good. Then I will send you all swiftly home,” said Queen Aine. She beckoned to a small dancer, who stepped forward with a tiny silver chalice.

  “Sip the honey nectar of the Shee,” said the High Queen. She took the chalice and held it out to Augusta. Augusta took a sip.

  A second later, Jack felt cold wind and rain. He and Annie were standing on the bank of the river. Augusta was standing beside them. She was her normal size again.

  “Well, that was simple and direct,” said Annie.

  “Yeah.…” Jack felt dazed.

  Augusta looked at Jack and Annie. “I saw them,” she said, her eyes wide. “I finally saw the Shee. I really saw them!” She burst out laughing. Her laughter was so full of joy that Jack and Annie started laughing, too.

  “I saw them! I saw them!” Augusta kept repeating. “I saw the Shee! And now I have important things to do!”

  “Yes, you do,” said Annie.

  “I must learn the old language! And I must start gathering stories at once, that’s what Queen Aine told me!” said Augusta. “I can’t wait to visit the old storytellers! There’s Mary Sheridan and Biddy Early, too! I’ll start with Mary! Let’s go see her right now! Hurry! Will you come with me? Hurry!”

  “Sure,” said Annie, “but just a second.” She turned to Jack. “What about Willy?”

  “Who’s Willy?” asked Augusta.

  “A friend of ours,” said Jack, looking around. “He said he’d wait for us. But where was he going to wait? Willy!”

  “Willy!” called Annie.

  “I guess he’s still somewhere on the other side of the river …,” said Jack.

  “That’s too bad,” said Annie.

  “Yeah,” said Jack.

  “Come, let us go see Mary now!” said Augusta, grabbing Annie’s hand and pulling her along.

  Jack looked around for Willy one last time. He was sad about not seeing the leprechaun again. But he was a little relieved, too. He knew they couldn’t keep their part of the deal: teaching Willy how to play the magic whistle.

  “Come on, Jack!” cried Augusta.

  Jack followed the two girls through the wet meadow, over the stone wall, down the dirt lane, and across the muddy field to Mary Sheridan’s cottage.

  “Mary! Mary!” Augusta called. She dashed ahead of Jack and Annie. She didn’t even stop to knock. She threw open the door to the cottage. “Oh!” she said, freezing in her tracks.

  Jack and Annie caught up with Augusta and looked inside.

  Mary was sitting in front of her fire. Next to her was a small man wearing a green jacket and a three-cornered red cap with a white feather.

  “Willy!” cried Annie.

  Annie and Jack hurried past Augusta into the cottage.

  “You’re here!” said Jack.

  “Of course! I said I’d wait for you!” said the leprechaun. “I see you found your dear friend and brought her home. Good work!”

  Augusta stood in the doorway, gaping at Willy. “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Name’s Willy. Just plain Willy,” said the leprechaun. “I usually leave before you visit Mary. But now that you’ve seen the Shee, I suppose there’s no point hiding from you anymore.”

  “Are—are you real?” asked Augusta.

  “Who knows?” said the leprechaun. “Maybe I’m real and you’re not! Depends on which one of us is asking the question!”

  Everyone laughed. “Good point,” said Annie.

  “Well, we’d better be getting home,” said Jack. He wanted to leave before Willy asked Annie for his whistle lesson.

  Jack took Annie’s hand and started backing toward the door. “Thanks for helping us, Willy,” he said.

  “Yeah, and thanks, Mary, for everything!” said Annie, waving. “Good-bye, Augusta! Good-bye, everyone!”

  “Wait just a minute, my friends,” said Willy.

  Uh-oh, thought Jack.

  “Have you forgotten our deal?” said Willy. “My fingers are itching to make beautiful music for Mary.”

  “Well, you see … there’s a problem with that,” said Jack, squirming.

  A frown crossed Willy’s face. “A problem?” he said. “How could there be a problem? Find your friend, teach Willy to play the whistle. Doesn’t get any simpler than that.”

  “Right,” said Jack.

  “So what’s the problem?” asked Willy.

  “Well, the whistle …” Jack didn’t know how to finish.

  “I’ll answer that question,” said Annie. “Willy, I’m going to be simple and direct and honest with you.”

  “Yes …?”
said the leprechaun.

  “Merlin the magician gave us the whistle to help us on our missions,” said Annie. “The whistle is magic, and the magic only works once. Without the magic, I don’t really know how to play. So I can’t teach you. There you have it.”

  “Ah,” said Willy. He looked at the floor and shook his head. “Then I’m afraid I’m going to have to turn you both into chipmunks.”

  “What?” said Jack.

  Willy burst out laughing. “Joking! Only joking!” he said. “Merlin! You should have told me you were friends with Merlin in the first place!”

  “Do you know Merlin?” asked Jack.

  “Oh, yes, we spent a great deal of time together. Must be about eight hundred years ago now,” said Willy. “How is he?”

  “He’s happy,” said Annie.

  “Good!” Willy turned back to Mary and Augusta. “I first met the master magician on the Isle of Merlin in the Irish Sea. He—”

  “Wait, wait, please, Willy,” said Augusta. “Mary, do you have pen and paper?”

  “No, my dear, I’m afraid I don’t,” said Mary.

  “I can help,” said Jack. He took his pencil and small notebook out of his pocket. He tore some clean pages out of the notebook. Then he gave the pencil and pages to Augusta. “There,” he said.

  “Oh, thank you, Jack!” said Augusta. She turned back to Willy. “Continue, please.”

  “Well,” said Willy, “Merlin was only a few centuries old then, and I was a mere lad.…”

  As Willy told his story, Augusta began to write. Jack put his notebook back into his pocket and nodded to Annie. She nodded back, and the two of them started toward the door.

  Just as they were about to leave, Annie called out to the others, “Bye!”

  “We have to go home now,” said Jack.

  “Trip lightly!” said Willy.

  “Thank you for everything!” said Augusta.

  “One and twenty fare-thee-wells!” said Mary.

  “Same to you guys,” said Jack. Then he and Annie slipped out of the cottage.

  The rain was pouring again, and the wind was blowing hard.

  “I think we inspired Augusta,” said Annie.

  “Yep, we accomplished our mission,” said Jack. “Now let’s get out of here.” He couldn’t wait to go home and get warm and dry.

  Jack and Annie ran against the wind. They climbed over the stone wall, then hurried down the lane, slipping and sliding in the muck. They ran across the soaked field. By the time they arrived at the rope ladder, their clothes were caked with mud.

  Jack and Annie climbed into the tree house. Annie found the Pennsylvania book in the corner. As rain blew through the window, she pointed to a picture of the Frog Creek woods. “I wish we could go there!” she said.

  The wind blew harder.

  The tree house started to spin.

  It spun faster and faster.

  Then everything was still.

  Absolutely still.

  “A hh, sunshine,” said Jack. He closed his eyes and felt the sunshine streaming through the tree house window.

  “And clean, dry clothes,” murmured Annie. She placed the Pennsylvania book back in the corner.

  Jack took the magic whistle out of his pocket and placed it next to the book. “There. Let’s go home now,” he said. “I want to look on the Internet for information about Augusta.” He started down the rope ladder.

  “Great idea,” said Annie, following Jack. “We can find out what happened to her.”

  Jack and Annie ran through the chilly Frog Creek woods. They crossed the street and hurried up the sparkling sidewalk to their yard. They tramped over old snow up to their porch. Annie opened the front door and led the way inside.

  “Hi!” Jack called. “We’re back!”

  “Hi!” their mom called from the kitchen. “Did you have a nice break?”

  “Yes, we did!” said Annie.

  “Good. Get back to your homework now,” said their mom. “So you can finish in time to go to the theater.”

  “Okay!” called Annie. She went to the computer desk and sat down. “What should I type?” she asked Jack.

  Jack pulled up a chair and sat beside her. “Well, we don’t know her last name,” he said. “So try Galway … Augusta … and Irish stories.”

  Annie typed these words on the keyboard, then hit enter. There were lots of choices for different Web sites. Annie clicked on the first one.

  On the screen was a black-and-white photograph of a woman. The caption under it said:

  Lady Augusta Gregory

  “Look! It’s her!” said Annie.

  The woman on the screen was middle-aged, but she still looked like Augusta. Her hair was parted neatly down the middle.

  Jack read aloud from the screen:

  Lady Augusta Gregory was born into a wealthy family in Galway, Ireland, in 1852. She wrote over forty plays and many poems and essays. She was a co-founder of the Abbey Theatre, the national theater of Ireland. Lady Gregory also learned the old language of Ireland and became well known for collecting Irish stories and legends and sharing them with the world.

  “Wow!” said Annie. “Augusta did have a brave heart and a fine mind! And she must have liked our play, since she wrote forty of her own and started her own theater.”

  “Yeah,” said Jack. “She really turned out great.” This reminded him of a question he’d asked himself earlier. “I wonder what I’m good for? I didn’t know how to do anything on that Irish farm.”

  “Me neither,” said Annie. “But hardly any kids today know how to do that kind of stuff.”

  “So what would we do if all our machines and computers broke down?” said Jack.

  “We’d have to figure out how to grow potatoes and make our own clothes and milk cows,” said Annie.

  “I’d probably read some kind of instructions first, then give it a try,” said Jack.

  “I’d probably give it a try first,” said Annie, “then read the instructions.”

  Jack laughed.

  “I know some stuff we’re good for,” said Annie.

  “What?” said Jack.

  “First, we’re good for helping each other,” said Annie.

  “Yeah, but—” said Jack.

  “No, really. We help each other all the time,” said Annie.

  “That’s true,” said Jack.

  “And we’re good for helping Augusta,” said Annie, “and helping Louis Armstrong, Mozart, and Leonardo da Vinci. We put the smile on the Mona Lisa’s face, remember?”

  Jack nodded. “Yep,” he said.

  “And we’re good for saving an orphan penguin, a huge octopus, and the cities of Tokyo, Venice, and New York,” said Annie. “We’re good for rescuing a baby gorilla from a leopard, and schoolkids from a twister. We’re good for helping Shakespeare, Clara Barton, and George Washington. We’re good for rescuing two kids from a tsunami, a Lakota boy from a buffalo stampede, and a baby kangaroo and a koala from a forest fire. We’re good for—”

  “Wait, stop,” said Jack. “Stop.”

  “But that’s not even half of it,” said Annie.

  “I know,” said Jack. “But that’s plenty. I’m inspired. I’m ready to write that story for homework. I’ll use my own experience. I have a little more than I thought.”

  “Cool,” said Annie. She went back to reading about Lady Gregory on the computer.

  Jack grabbed a pencil and pulled out his notebook. He moved to the couch and sat down. As late-winter light slanted into the living room, he began to write.

  Irish Fairies

  • There was a time when many people in Ireland believed in fairies who lived inside mounds of earth. The name for Irish fairies is Sí. In Ireland, the word Sí is pronounced Shee. To avoid confusion in my story, I refer to the fairies as the Shee.

  • Leprechauns are a type of male Irish fairy. In folktales they often work as shoemakers or tailors and are thought to have hidden pots of gold. Leprechauns are featured on St. Patric
k’s Day, a national holiday in Ireland celebrated on March 17.

  Lady Gregory

  • When she was a child, Lady Gregory’s full name was Isabella Augusta Persse, though everyone called her Augusta. After she grew up, she married Sir William Henry Gregory. As the wife of a knight, she was called Lady Gregory.

  • Ireland’s most famous poet is William Butler Yeats (YATES). He was a very good friend of Lady Gregory’s. Together in 1904, they founded Dublin’s Abbey Theatre, the national theater of Ireland.

  • William Butler Yeats often accompanied Lady Gregory when she visited cottages and collected Irish folklore. It was said that Lady Gregory had a natural genius for remembering the direct speech of storytellers. “In her many years of traveling, listening, transcribing and publishing, Lady Gregory … gave value to the stories, to the mind and the imagination of Irish country people” (Lucy McDiarmid and Maureen Waters, introduction to Lady Gregory: Selected Writings).

  Irish Language

  • From the 1600s to the early 1900s, the language of Ireland, called Irish Gaelic, was replaced by English in many parts of Ireland. During the struggle for Irish independence in the twentieth century, the desire to learn the old language became very strong in Ireland. In 1922, Irish Gaelic became the official language of the country along with English. Today it is taught in Irish public schools. Lady Gregory’s knowledge of Irish Gaelic helped her when she visited cottages and collected stories.

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