A CAPFUL OF MOONSHINE


On the top of Drundle Head, away to the right side, where the track crossed,
it was known that the fairies still came and danced by night. But though
Toonie went that way every evening on his road home from work, never once had
he been able to spy them.

So one day he said to the old faggot-maker, "How is it that one gets to see a
fairy?" The old man answered, "There are some to whom it comes by nature; but
for others three things are needed--a handful of courage, a mouthful of
silence, and a capful of moonshine. But if you would be trying it, take care
that you don't go wrong more than twice; for with the third time you will fall
into the hands of the fairies and be their bondsman. But if you manage to see
the fairies, you may ask whatever you like of them."

Toonie believed in himself so much that the very next night he took his
courage in both hands, filled his cap with moon-shine, shut his mouth, and set
out. Just after he had started he passed, as he thought, a priest riding by on
a mule. "Good evening to you, Toonie," called the priest.

"Good evening, your reverence," cried Toonie, and flourished off his cap, so
that out fell his capful of moonshine. And though he went on all the way up
over the top of Drundle Head, never a fairy did he spy; for he forgot that, in
passing what he supposed to be the priest, he had let go both his mouthful of
silence and his capful of moonshine.

The next night, when he was coming to the ascent of the hill, he saw a little
elderly man wandering uncertainly over the ground ahead of him; and he too
seemed to have his hands full of courage and his cap full of moonshine. As