the poets from my door,' and with that he bade him enter.

There were a good many neighbours gathered in the house, and some of
them remembered Hanrahan; but some of the little lads that were in
the corners had only heard of him, and they stood up to have a view
of him, and one of them said: 'Is not that Hanrahan that had the
school, and that was brought away by Them?' But his mother put her
hand over his mouth and bade him be quiet, and not be saying things
like that. 'For Hanrahan is apt to grow wicked,' she said, 'if he
hears talk of that story, or if anyone goes questioning him.' One or
another called out then, asking him for a song, but the man of the
house said it was no time to ask him for a song, before he had rested
himself; and he gave him whiskey in a glass, and Hanrahan thanked him
and wished him good health and drank it off.

The fiddler was tuning his fiddle for another dance, and the man of
the house said to the young men, they would all know what dancing was
like when they saw Hanrahan dance, for the like of it had never been
seen since he was there before. Hanrahan said he would not dance, he
had better use for his feet now, travelling as he was through the
five provinces of Ireland. Just as he said that, there came in at the
half-door Oona, the daughter of the house, having a few bits of bog
deal from Connemara in her arms for the fire. She threw them on the
hearth and the flame rose up, and showed her to be very comely and
smiling, and two or three of the young men rose up and asked for a
dance. But Hanrahan crossed the floor and brushed the others away,
and said it was with him she must dance, after the long road he had
travelled before he came to her. And it is likely he said some soft
word in her ear, for she said nothing against it, and stood out with
him, and there were little blushes in her cheeks. Then other couples