It is to-day in Ireland. Shaun O'Day is married to Eileen. He has made her his Dawn O'Day.

They have built a cottage near the banks of that blue Irish lake. They live there with their children.

Shaun and Dawn O'Day have three children. Their youngest is a red-haired baby girl with the eyes and the name of her mother.

Their oldest is a lanky, freckle-faced lad who wears the cast-off trousers of his father. No more do tall boys wear the petticoats of girls. They are not afraid of the leprechaun when they reach the age of ten or twelve years.

But their mothers still keep them dressed as girls when they are small. And that is why we find John, the second son of Shaun O'Day, in a red petticoat. He looks very much the way Shaun himself had looked at that age.

John had been christened Shaun. But they call him John, because it is to-day in Ireland. Young Shaun was called John O'Day.

John had the ruddy complexion given most of these village lads by the wind and rain. But he was not as tough and strong as his father had been. He did not have to work. He could come home from school and do as he pleased. Sometimes, of course, he ran errands for his mother or helped her with household chores. But usually he would go to the shores of the lake and think.

Shaun once found his son thus. He went up to John quietly. He put his hand on the lad's shoulder. John jumped and stood erect, his face white.

"Och, why do you jump with such a great fear, my lad?" asked the father.

John sat down again. He was ashamed. He did not speak.

"Tell me, lad: What is it you fear?" asked the father.

Then John told his father how some boy in the village had started a tale. The lad had told how, many years ago, Shaun had been stolen away by the leprechauns.

John told how it had happened on the shores of this very lake. He would not believe it and said so.

Still he often lay on his back by the lake and wondered whether it could be true. Now he asked Shaun to tell him.

Shaun stroked his rough chin. The twinkle he had had as a boy was there in his eyes still. He looked at little John beside him.

"Och, Johneen!" he laughed with his musical laugh. "'Tis indeed a true story."

John's eyes grew big. He stared at his father as though Shaun himself might be one of the Good People.

Then he spread out the red petticoat on the ground. He knew that the red petticoat would protect him.

Shaun looked in amusement at the boy's frightened eyes. Then he grew sober.

He said, "You must not fear the Good People, Johneen!"

John wet his dry lips with the tip of his tongue. He came up closer to his father.

"But didn't they make you work for themselves?" he whispered. "And weren't they after stealing you away, and you wearing the clothes of a boy?"

"Yes, yes," agreed Shaun. But he took his little son's hand and stroked it. "And now," he went on, "if you'll listen, I'll tell you the story."

Shaun began, "When I was a lad I was not so fortunate as you, Johneen. I had to work hard. I was beaten and had not enough to eat. So I determined to go with the leprechaun. I put on the clothes of a boy. I stood by the lake. But never a fairy came at all, at all.

"I was tired and slept, and when I awoke 'twas dawn. I ran to the shore in a daze. I jumped into a boat. I was carried away. Through many countries and on many seas I traveled.

"At last I landed in the fairy city. 'Twas there I met the leprechaun himself."

John's hand squeezed the hand of his father. He edged up closer to the big man.

"But do not be thinking that this leprechaun was wicked," continued Shaun. "No, indeed. Kind he was, and good to me. I worked on the mending of shoes and was paid in silver.

"Then did I work for a little princess in the home of her father. Good People they were, too. And the sight of the beauty of that home would surely have dazzled you.

"Among the precious treasures of that house I worked. With the treasured little Princess did I play until at last—"

Here the big man stopped. His voice grew low and soft. He dropped his head.

John asked in a hushed whisper, "Yes—and what happened?"

"Och, well—lad—I came back to old Ireland. Your mother was waiting for me."

Then Shaun arose and placed his hand on John's shoulder.

He continued, "But remember, son, that the Good People will not harm you. Do not be afraid, at all, for well do they love us. And I do believe that they steal the wee boys because they love them so."

Shaun told this tale to the lad John, so he would never again fear the fairies.

And so well did the plan succeed that John began to love the Good People. Over and over, he thought of what Shaun had told him.

He tried to imagine what the baby Princess looked like. He would shut his eyes and try to picture the wonders of that fairy city.

One day he found himself pretending that he was flying over the city. He started and jumped to his feet.

Why had he been doing this? Did he, too, want to go away with the fairies? Of course not. Why should he want to leave his home, his good parents, his brother and sister?

Laughing aloud, he went back to the cottage. He did not visit the lake for several days.

Then one morning, he was walking by himself in the sunshine. The little sparkling beams of sun made him think of the lights his father had told him about in the strange city.

Suddenly he found himself on the banks of the lake. He was on the opposite shore. He sat down.

He wondered whether the leprechaun would steal him if he should wear the clothes of his big brother. The brightness of the day and the bird songs made him light of heart. They gave him courage.

"Sure, I'll try," he exclaimed to the blue waters of the lake.

What harm to try? Suppose they took him. It would be fun to visit fairyland. He could always come back. His father came back.

In his new enthusiasm, John stood on the bank and held out his arms crying, "Come, fairy Good Folk! Take me away. I do be wanting to see the wonders of your land!"

But the gentle lapping of the lake was the only answer to his cry. Then John realized that he was standing in the red petticoat. He smiled.

"They'll not be wanting girls, at all," he reasoned.

Next day, before anyone in the cottage was astir, John slipped out of the door. He was clad in a suit belonging to his older brother. The trousers hung very low, but he tucked them up. He pulled a cap down over his face.

He ran all the way to the opposite shore of the lake. His heart was pounding, and his breath came in gasps.

He threw himself down on the ground to rest. Bird sounds were all about, and a rustling of leaves. The water was lap-lapping as always.