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ruins of an ancient castle surrounded by a moat, known in ancient times as the haunt of fairies or elves.
In the village of Knockgrafton lived a good-natured little humpbacked man named Lusmore. He was a general favorite from his cheerful and pleasant humour and nature had endowed him with a good pair of lungs and a taste for music.
One sunny day Lusmore lay down on the bank of the moat, and had a nap from which he was awakened by the sweet sound of voices apparently proceeding from beneath the water. He knew at once that it must he the fairies singing. Their song was of a very simple character, for it was nothing, when translated into English (the fairies of Knockgrafton of course sang in the Irish or Erse language)—but—Monday, Tuesday, Monday, Tuesday, and so on ad infinitum. Lusmore listened for some time and at length got rather tired of this perpetual repetition, and seizing a moment when there was a slight pause he sung at the top of his voice, but in a musical tone—‘and Wednesday too.’ Scarcely had he done this, when he found himself caught up and whirled down to the bottom of the moat, where was a spacious hall fall of elves dancing and singing. They took up Lusmore’s words and went on singing lustily “Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday too.” After this had coutinued for some time Lusmore was conducted to a place of honour, and two of the strongest elves came and with a saw made of butter they cut off his hump,—and then they all sang
Lusmore, Lusmore,
Weep not nor deplore
The hump that you bore
On your back is no more;
Look down on the floor
And view it Lusmore.
Little Lusmore now found to his astonishment that he was no longer bent double as he used to be, but that he could lift himself upright and was a tall man, and in doing this he nearly knocked his head against the ceiling. After much rejoicing and feasting it became time for the elves
