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Finbarr huddled down in a corner. He was puffed out from running. It was the same every year when this day came round, or if it was a sunny day with showers; people went completely crackers.  When others oohed and aahed at the multi-coloured spectacle in the sky, he and his kind shook in their boots.

Times had changed; at one time people had had a bit of respect, and were even wary of the Little Folk. But people had got greedy of late, and didn’t care who they trampled over to get what they wanted. Finbarr sighed.  Soon he and others like him would be extinct, if all the countryside was built on, and more and more people came to torment them. Over many centuries his ancestors had worked hard mining gold, and so were very protective of keeping it safe.

An approaching cacophony of sound borne by the wind became audible across the meadows and woodland. They were coming. They wanted Finbarr, and they wanted the gold. Finbarr took a deep breath and darted off in a different direction to the hidden gold. A horde of children with accompanying adults dressed in green white and gold spied him and followed in pursuit.  They chased him over hill and dale, in and out of trees, across streams until he fell over a tree root with exhaustion.

Finbarr was yanked up by the arm.

“I’ve got him! I’ve got the Leprechaun! The Leprechaun Hunt is over,” a boy yelled, holding Finbarr up triumphantly.  The hunters gathered around him chattering noisily, prodding Finbarr, and demanding to know where the gold was.

“Be quiet and I‘ll tell you everything!” Finbarr squealed.  The children sat down, and Finbarr told them about the demise of his leprechaun clansmen. Some of them cried.

Posted June 6, 2015 by eileenmoynihan in Uncategorized

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