"_Banaght dhea orrin!_" he exclaimed, starting back; "the blessing of
God be upon us! Is it here before me you are?"
"Hould your tongue, man," said the other, with a smile of mysterious
triumph. "Is it that you wondher at? Ha, ha! That's little of it!"
"But how did you know my name? or who I was? or where I lived at all?
Heaven protect us! it's beyant belief, clane out."
"Hould your tongue," replied the man; "don't be axin' me any thing o'
the kind. Clear out, both of ye, till I begin my pisthrogues wid the
sick child. Clear out, I say."
With some degree of apprehension, Larry and Sheelah left the house as
they had been ordered, and the Fairy-man having pulled out a flask of
poteen, administered a dose of it to Phelim; and never yet did patient
receive his medicine with such a relish. He licked his lips, and fixed
his eye upon it with a longing look.
"Be Gorra," said he, "that's fine stuff entirely. Will you lave me the
bottle?"
"No," said the Fairy-man, "but I'll call an' give you a little of it
wanst a day."
"Ay do," replied Phelim; "the divil a fear o' me, if I get enough of it.
I hope I'll see you often."
The Fairy-man kept his word; so that what with his bottle, a hardy
constitution, and light bed-clothes, Phelim got the upper hand of his
malady. In a month he was again on his legs; but, alas! his complexion
though not changed to deformity, was wofully out of joint.
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