jacket and red sash. Oh! my charming, darling goat, I must kiss you!’
“And as Aileen said these words, she caught the goat by his red beard, and, raising up its head, kissed it on the mouth.
“She was astonished to see the goat rising on its hind legs, and capering round the yard, to the fear and terror of all the ducks and hens that were the mothers of chickens and ducklings.
“‘Oh! you dear and sensible darling!’ cried the delighted Aileen, ‘a person would fancy you could understand every word I say to you.’
“The yellow goat nodded its head.
“‘You really can! Is it possible?’ said Aileen to the goat.
“The yellow goat again nodded its head.
“‘Very well—if you can, when you mean to say “Yes” nod your head; and when you want to say “No,” shake it.’
“The yellow goat first nodded its head, and then shook it.
“‘Oh! grandmother!’ cried Aileen to Moyra Olliffe (who entered the farm-yard at this moment), ‘where did you get this beautiful goat? I never saw anything to equal it.’
“Old Moyra Olliffe had not time to answer the question; for the moment the goat saw the old witch he ran at her, and gave her a puck with his two horns, such as she never had in her life before, for it sent her head over heels three times running, and at last landed her into the pig-trough, where those animals were at that moment feeding, and they, in their rage, all began biting her.
“Aileen, terrified at the danger to which her grandmother was exposed, ran and dragged her out of the pig-trough, and then, looking round, exclaimed, ‘Alas! the beautiful yellow goat has run away from us!’
“‘And well for him he did so,’ replied the infuriated Moyra Olliffe, ‘or my knife would on the instant be in his throat. Let him not come next or nigh me again, or I’ll massacre him.’”
CHAPTER IV.
“Aileen was equally delighted and astonished upon passing outside the bounds of Rahar on the high road, to find the goat was there, and seemingly waiting for her. It nodded with its head to her to follow, and then trotted off towards the stream of the Blackwater, to the very spot where the young lovers had first seen each other.
“‘My heart misgives me about this same yellow goat with the red beard,’ sighed Aileen, when she saw it stop and lie down on the very mound of green grass where Phelim had been standing three days before. ‘Oh! my poor heart is beating with anxiety. I know well—for I feel it in the dizziness of my head—that my grandmother has been playing some of her roguish tricks on me; and I fear—oh! how I do fear!—upon him also. But, God is good! and one thing is certain, the yellow goat has shown such a hatred of the old witch, that it must love truth and goodness for their own sake. Well, my poor goat,’ said Aileen, coming up to it, and putting a snow-white arm around its yellow neck, ‘do you know the bravest, finest, handsomest, and best young man in all Ireland?’
“The goat looked at her, as if it did not comprehend what she meant.
“‘Do you know, in other words,’ said Aileen, ‘my own darling intended husband, the valiant hero, Phelim O’Neal O’Donnell?’
“The goat nodded.
“‘Do you know where he is this minute?’
“The goat nodded.
“‘Could you show him to me?’
“The goat nodded.
“‘Show him to me.’
“The goat walked over the stream, and looked into it.
“Aileen followed, and, gazing into the stream, beheld the yellow face and red beard of the goat.
“‘And you mean to say that you, my poor yellow goat, are really, truly, actually and bodily, Phelim O’Neal O’Donnell himself?’
“The goat nodded, and again bent his knees before her.
“‘Oh! wirra strue! Oh! wirra strue!’ exclaimed Aileen, bursting into tears, and seating herself on the grass by the side of the goat, and wiping her dazzling, bright blue eyes with its red beard. ‘And is this the way that our hopeful and happy marriage is to end? Oh! wirra strue! and wirra strue! for ever and ever, amen! What is the use of being young, and brave, and fair, and good, if all can be marred and spoiled by a horrid, old, ugly, and unbelieving witch, who is to have the power of changing a handsome young Christian knight and gentleman into a contemptible yellow goat, with a red beard? Oh! wirra strue! wirra strue! and wirra strue, over and over again! Oh! wirra! wirra!’
“The lamentations of Aileen were interrupted by the angry voice of the parish priest of Park, who exclaimed, as he looked down from the wall of the churchyard:
“‘Ah! then will you ever stop with your yowling down there ? How is a poor priest ever to get through with his breviary, if you are to be interrupting him in his prayers with your complaining against the ways of Providence? Hould your whisht! young woman, or tell me, in as few words as you can, what is the matter with you?’
“Aileen told her story.
“‘Here,’ said the parish priest, leaning over the churchyard wall, ‘here are the beads blessed by myself. Tie them round your true lover’s neck, like a collar, and neither witch nor wizzard can do him any personal harm. Let him be off to sea at once, if he wishes to be restored to his former face and figure. They can never be recovered until he is two hundred miles away from the coast of Ireland. The sooner he is far from the country the better for the two of you; as that old woman will never forgive him the fine puck he had out of her. Away! children, and my blessing be upon you! but never come to this spot again, either to be moithering me with your moans, or distracting me in my devotions, by your amorous ditties.’
“With these words the parish priest disappeared behind the wall of his churchyard.
