Hollyguff and the Leprechaun

Long ago, when the world was young and life was sweet, Alabaster Hollyguff McGoo sat down to eat. He had traveled far from his frozen homeland, and now was in a lush, verdant land. Birds sang overhead and animals rustled through the brush around. A line of bees swarmed around a beehive, rushing to save their honey from the soft smoke that drifted into their honeycomb. 

At the base of the fire, Hollyguff continued to add more green wood, waiting for the bees to gorge themselves and grow lazy. Sitting back, he opened his rucksack, considering what he would use for his lunch. 

A shout cut his search short. “What’re ye doin’!”

Hollyguff looked up. The clearing he relaxed in was caused by an old, dry stream, across which strode a man, just a little shorter than Hollyguff. He was dressed in a suit the color of clover, one hand holding a heavy walking staff and the other keeping a tall hat from flying off his head. Shining shoes crunched against the water-worn stones, the sound ringing ominous in Hollyguff’s ears. 

“Good afternoon, sir!” Hollyguff called cheerily. “I’m just sitting down to eat while I wait for the chance to get some honey.” 

“Ach, ye ruffian!” the little man said, stepping onto the edge of the streambed nearest Hollyguff, “That there is my beehive!”

“Oh, I’m quite sorry!” Hollyguff said. “But I just want a taste. You won’t miss the morsel that I take.” 

“Ye arenae taking a lick of my honey,” the man sneered. “Go on, off with ye!” 

Hollyguff held up his hand. “My dear elf,” he started, “I will-”

“I’m no elf,” the man seethed. “Can ye nae see I’m a leprechaun! The O’Laighin name willnae be sullied by bein’ called elves.” 

Of course, Hollyguff had known it right away, for there was no mistaking the long beard and green uniform of a leprechaun. Still, he hid his grin, for he suddenly had an idea to obtain the honey.  “Ah, but of course. I should have recognized you right off as the wisest and most cunning of the fair folk.” 

O’Laighin settled, a triumphant grin crossing his face. “Aye, that is right. Now, get off my land!” 

Hollyguff made to close up his bag, then paused. “I have always wanted to try matching wits with a leprechaun. Would you care to play a little game?”

With a suspicious look, O’Laighin stepped closer. “What do ye suggest?” 

“Find the Stone,” Hollyguff said. “I’ll pick a stone from the streambed here, and you hide it. If I’m able to get it, you let me have some of this honey. If not, I’ll leave, and you will never hear from me again.” 

“And what’re the rules fer hiding the stone?” O’Laighin asked, stroking his beard as he considered the challenge. 

“No burying it deeper than what’s on the surface of the ground,” Hollyguff said, “No throwing it into a lake, lava or dragon’s maw. Nor can you give it to a bird or animal to be carried away from here. It must be within a five minute walk from this spot. As such, I’ll give you five minutes to hide it, and wait here for you until you return.” 

The leprechaun considered, then finally said, “Aye, I’ll agree to that!” Hollyguff stepped down into the streambed, carefully selecting a stone with a thick red band. “How about this one?” he asked. 

The leprechaun took it, looking it over. “Aye, it’s just a stone. Nae magics are used on it.” 

“Maybe not,” Hollyguff said. “But I bet it’ll be so easy to find, it’ll be the same as you bringing it right to me.” 

Scoffing, O’Laighin turned away into the woods. Hollyguff considered cutting a square of honey and bolting, now that he had a few minutes to make his escape. But he was a man of his word – and he wanted to see if he could outsmart the leprechaun. 

Instead, he examined the streambed again, watching the lazy bees stumble around the uniformity of grey stones. Every so often, one would cross into a red stripe, their black bands disappearing against the dark color. Then they would reappear on the other side, content again. 

When the leprechaun returned, Hollyguff was brushing off his fingers, watching the ants take crumbs away. He looked up as the leprechaun drew near. “Is it hidden well?” 

“Aye,” O’Laighin said. “Try if’n ye’d like, but I donnae think ye’ll find yer stone.” 

Hollyguff scratched the back of his head. “While I search, would you like a piece of cake?” he offered. “It would be ten times better with a hint of honey, but it is still quite nice.” 

The leprechaun took the cake suspiciously. As soon as his attention was drawn away, Hollyguff stepped into the woods. Then, a minute later, he stepped back into the open, tossing a stone with a thick red stripe. “Quite a good hiding place,” he said. “But not good enough to beat Alabaster Hollyguff McGoo.” 

Halfway through a bite, O’Laighin spat out the cake. He leapt into the air, grinding his teeth as he roared, “Ye couldnae have climbed the oak tree that quickly!” 

Hollyguff tossed the stone again. “Are you sure about that?” 

The leprechaun rushed past him, storming back into the forest. Hollyguff watched him go, smiling to himself as he idly tossed the stone between his hands. All he hoped now was that the leprechaun wouldn’t kill him. At the thought, he tossed the stone back to the edge of the streambed, closing his rucksack.  

In a few minutes, O’Laighin crashed back into the clearing. He raised a red-striped stone in his hand, crowing, “I told ye, ye couldnae have climbed the tree that quickly.” 

“Aye,” Hollyguff said, grabbing the stone from his upraised hand,  “and I never claimed to have found it.” He held the stone in front of the leprechaun’s face. “But I’ve found it now.” 

O’Laighin stared at the rock, trembling in rage. As he understood the trick, his face flushed red, then turned purple. Hollyguff tensed, prepared to run, but wondering if the leprechaun would explode. They stood facing each other for a long moment. Then, like a summer storm, O’Laighin’s face cleared, and the tension drained from his shoulders. The corners of his lips quirked, and he began to smile, then chuckle. It turned into a full-throated laugh, until tears were rolling down his cheeks. He wiped them away, shaking his head. 

“Well played,” the leprechaun said. “I have nae been tricked so well in many a year. Come, pick up yer bags. Ye will join me and my family tonight for a wee ceilidh.” 

When Hollyguff protested, O’Laighin shook his head. “Nay, ye cannae leave with just honey. Ye have played a fine trick, worthy of bein’ a leprechaun yerself. Ye will join us tonight and be one of us for as long as ye live.”

And so Hollyguff was accepted by the leprechauns as one of their own, by credit of the trick he had played. All future protests that he was an elf from the North Pole went unheard and ignored. After three days with the O’Laighin’s, he stepped back on the road again, a fresh pair of brogues on his feet, a blackthorn stick in his hand and a neat square of honey wrapped in his bag.

Alabaster Hollyguff McGoo is a character first introduced in A Canterbury Christmas, where he outsmarted Father Christmas in order to travel around the world. His adventures follow him on his journey, singing songs and playing tricks everywhere he goes.