Last night, after midnight, this little fellow knocked the door of the small house. He came riding a big black-faced sheep towing a big barrel of beer. When our hostess saw him a radiant smile of happines was drawn on her face and she let him in.
Before putting the barrel in the kitchen and driving the sheep to the barn we joined them. It seems this little leprechaun was an old friend of the hermit and every year he visits her bringing with him a lot of beer, which also shared with us this year.
For some reason we fail to gasp the barrel seemed to never empty, and after several pints we decided to retreat, having lost the hope of initiating a lucid conversation with the leprechaun. Yet he gave us a bag of gold nto each before we left. Then he and the old woman continued drinking, laughing and remembering te past non-stop until the morrow.
When we got up this morning the only trace that remained of the leprechaun were to bags filled with leaves and a terrible hangover.
