Well, anyways, Happy St. Patrick's Day. I had a pretty poor one, I lost my copy of The Quiet Man and I didn't get to drink any Guinness since I had to go to a meeting at school. Worst of all, I didn't write any new jokes.
I beat myself up over not continuing what I had tried to start as a tradition and this morning I came up with one. I hope you like it.
I 'm going to have to remedy this, but I'm going to do it in two posts, this one and the next one, more to come…]
The Dancing Leprechaun
One fine Spring morning a man named O'Boyle was walking through a stand of trees after a long, unprofitable night tending his largely unsuccessful bar. It had rained over night and the ground and new buds were covered in soft moistness.
By the barest chance the man spotted a glint of shiny metal out of the corner of his eye. He walked closer to the glint and realized it was a golden glimmer. As he walked even closer he noticed that the sun had just come up and a rainbow had formed right overhead.
As he brushed aside a low bush he finally saw what he had been looking for. There, smack in a small clearing within this small stand of trees was the end of the rainbow and right under that was a huge pot made entirely of gold. Around the pot danced a tiny little man, all dressed in green, with a pipe and a beard and a shillelagh.
The little man was dancing furiously, but there was no music. As O'Boyle approached as quietly as he could he noticed that the wee man had his eyes closed as he danced, which was what probably allowed him to get that close. Before either O'Boyle or the leprechaun knew, O'Boyle reached out and grabbed the little man round the waist with one hand.
"I've got you!"
"Oh my, deary me. You gave me such a fright."
"I've got you now, haven't I?"
The leprechaun was completely crestfallen, "That you do, that you do. And me dancing has finally been me downfall. I suppose you'll be wanting me crock o' gold now, and fair won ye."
O'Boyle was intrigued. He had heard that leprechauns were wily and deceitful; this capture seemed far too easy. "Why were you dancing with your eyes closed anyway?" He asked.
"Ah well, that's me other foible, I can't play neither pipe nor fiddle. I have to imagine the music in me head, and Saint's preserve me, I can't keep from dancing."
"That gives me an idea," O'Boyle said, seeing the true sadness and distress on the man's face, "You can keep your pot of gold on one condition."
"What's that, tell me quick, my heart is racing so."
"You can keep your pot of gold as long as each and every weekend you come and dance at my bar."
The leprechaun's miniscule eyes lit up, "Done!" He said in an instance and it was. With that he disappeared, along with his pot and the rainbow.
O'Boyle might have chalked it all up to a waking dream, except that the very next weekend when the Irish band he had hired for the evening started to play.
They were a good, but undiscovered band and O'Boyle's was the only gig they could get. As they started playing, O'Boyle was surprised to find the leprechaun appear right before his eyes standing on the bar.
"Ah, a fine Irish band," the leprechaun said, his toes already tapping. Immediately he started into a jig. He danced all night, jigs, reels, and when he did the line dancing he made it appear as if there were a dozen little men dancing on the bar in perfect unison, just like the River Dance.
The few patrons of the bar were astonished. They called there friends and the crowd grew bigger as the night grew longer. The next night, Saturday, the word had spread far and wide, and the bar was packed full from opening to last call. Immediately it was a complete success.
The next weekend was much the same; the only difference being that with the crowds came people of the music industry. The band was discovered and signed a record contract on the spot Saturday night.
O'Boyle was a bit concerned, because the Irish band told him that they couldn't play anymore since they were going to be busy in the studio. He worked all week and finally found a Greek band who he could sign.
Again, the band was actually very good, just unknown. On Friday night when they began to play the leprechaun appeared. He was astonished.
"What's this? Where'd me countrymen go?"
"This is the new band."
"But, but this is Greek. I don't know if you noticed, but I'm Irish."
"I know, but this is the band and you and I have a deal."
"I know. I keep me crock as long as I dance."
O'Boyle nodded. The leprechaun shrugged, pulled out his handkerchief, leapt off the bar shouting, "Opa!" and started a line dance that lasted until closing.
Again it was a tremendous success. Saturday was the same. Two weeks later, the Greek band was signed to a record contract and they were gone.
The next week when the leprechaun appeared with the first chords of music he was surprised to find a mariachi band had replaced the Greek one.
"You expect me to dance to this? I don't know a word of Spanish. How will I know what the dance is about?"
"If you don't dance I get your pot of gold," O'Boyle calmly reminded him.
"Ah well, I suppose a deal is a deal. Tell me, do I get free margaritas?" The leprechaun asked as he reluctantly made a tiny sombrero appear to replace his felt hat.
"Sure, why not." O'Boyle smiled, and the leprechaun danced the night away.
That band was discovered in the very first weekend. The next weekend the little leprechaun appeared just as the accordions limbered up.
"What in heaven's name is this O'Boyle?!" The leprechaun exclaimed.
"The mariachi band was signed to a record contract. This is the new band. They're fresh from Warsaw."
"But, but, I can't dance to this!"
"You have to. If you don't dance I get your pot of gold."
"Now," began the leprechaun in full rant mode, "You had an Irish band and I gave you the Riverdance." He ticked off the bands with is tiny fingers, "Then you brought in a Greek band and I did Greek dancing with the jumping and the handkerchiefs, then you brought in a mariachi band and I did the Mexican hat dance all night." He had built himself up into a lather. He spit out his pipe, and threw his hat down on the bar, "Now you bring in a Polka band?"
He walked over and pointed his finger right at O'Boyle's nose, "Well, crock o' gold or no, I draw the line at Pole dancing."
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