Argosy, September 1955 — page 88: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

86 JOAN AIKEN ‘““Begorrah, and doesn’t your Honour know that the whole forest is stiff with enchantment, and a leprechaun peeking out of every bush in it, the way you’d be thinking it was nesting-time and they after the eggs?” ‘“'What nonsense, my dear Norah. You really must learn not to come to me with these tales.”’ But all the children gathered round him, exclaiming and per- suading. “ Faith, and isn’t it the strange thing that your Worship should not be believing in these enchantments, and you playing such beautiful music that the very ravens from the Castle and the maidens out of the forest are all climbing and fluttering over each other outside the windows to get an earful of it?” Mr. Bond shooed them off rather crossly, saying that school was over for the day and he had no patience with such silliness. Next day was the last day of term, and Norah was leaving. Mr. Bond asked her what she was going to do. ‘Going into service up at the Castle. They’re in need of a girl in the kitchen, I’m told, and mother says ’twill be good experience for me.”’ “But there isn’t any castle,” said Mr. Bond. Was the girl half-witted? She had always seemed bright enough in school. ‘““ Ah, your Honour will have your bit of fun. And what else could I do, will you be telling me that?” Mr. Bond was forced to agree that there were no other jobs to be had. That afternoon he started out into the forest, determined to search for this mysterious castle and see if there really was some big house tucked away in the trees, but though he walked for miles and miles, and came home thirsty and exhausted long after dusk, not a thing did he see, neither castle, house, nor hut, let alone leprechauns peeking out of every bush. He ate some bread and cheese in a bad temper and sat down to play it off at his own piano. He played several dances from Purcell’s Fairy Queen, and had soon soothed himself into forget- fulness of the children’s provoking behaviour. Little did he know that three white faces, framed in long golden hair, were gazing through the window behind his back. When he had finished playing for the night, the maidens from the forest turned and went regretfully back to the Castle. “Well,” asked the Wicked Countess, ‘‘ and does he play as well as the village talk has it? ”’ ‘“ He plays till the ears come dowa off your head and go waltz- ing along the road. Sure, there’s none is his equal in the whole wide world, at all.” commicbookscolus Ba ,. a)