nity, when he met his
old servant now; and though he congratulated him on his good fortune,
never honored him with either a formal or friendly call--while Lady
Powerscourt and her daughters, who had often visited the cottage by the
Dargle, in times of sickness and trouble, were never seen driving up
the avenue of O'Daly Castle,--and as for the young lord, he went
abroad, about these days, and was lost to Miss Peggy O'Daly forever.

Tim's new neighbors laughed at him for his pretensions, and the
blunders his family made in "aping their betters,"--his servants
imposed on him, and there was nothing but coldness, discord, and wicked
waste in his grand old castle, so unlike the humble, happy home of the
game-keeper.

Even the Banshee, in whom he had felt so much pride, was no
consolation; for, being indignant that low-born peasants had dared to
take the place of the ancient and noble family she had so long
patronized, she did nothing but howl about the castle, every night of
her life.

At length, things got to such a desperate pass, that Tim could endure
them no longer, but took the few fairy jewels and guineas that
remained, and went with them to the place where he had caught the
_Clericaune_.

There he was again, and he looked up at Tim with a wicked twinkle in
his eye, for he knew, the rascal, what trouble unearned riches bring
upon one. Tim emptied his pockets of gold and precious stones, and
flung them at the little brogue-maker's head--crying out--

"There, take back yer dirty treasure, and bad luck to you, you spalpeen
of a fairy, for decaying a Christian!"

He threw with such force, that he flung himself off the stone--_and
that woke him!_

Yes, the capture of the _Clericaune_, his wealth, his grand castle, and
all his trouble were _a dream_. He got up and looked about him, a
little bewildered at first, but soon recollected himself, and set out
for home, a wiser and happier man than when he entered the Dargle that
afternoon.

It was late and supper was waiting for him. His good wife smiled when
he came in, and put by her sewing; his sons and daughters had all come
from their work or school, and greeted him affectionately. As he sat
down with them to their simple evening meal of bread, milk, and
potatoes, they noticed that he said grace with unusual fervor, and then
looked round upon them all with tears in his eyes.

His home was as humble as ever--but somehow, it had grown beautiful to
him, for the s