THERE was once a poor widow who had one son named Barney, and some said he was as sharp a lad as one would care to meet, and some said he was not much better than a simpleton.

One day his mother said to him, “My son, bad luck is close after us these days. There is no food in the house, and soon the landlord will be coming for our rent. Take our white cow (for she is the poorest of the three), and drive her over to the fair, and sell her to the one who will give the best price for her.”

Barney was more than willing to do this, for it was better fun to go to the fair than to work. He brushed his clothes and cocked his hat, and off he started in a fine humor, driving the white cow before him.

The sun was not yet high and the dew lay thick on the hedgerows; birds sang on either side of the road, and Barney whistled to himself for very joy of life.

After a while he came to a stile, and sitting on the top of the stile was a little man scarce two feet high; he was dressed all in green and a red cap was lying beside him.

“Good morning to you, Barney,” said the little man.

Barney answered him politely as his mother had taught him, but he wondered how under the bright sun the stranger happened to know that his name was Barney.

“And how much do you think you’ll get for the white cow at the fair?”

Then Barney wondered still more that the little man should know his business as well as his name. “My mother told me to get the best price I could,” he answered.

“The best price may be neither gold nor silver. Wait a bit and I’ll show you a thing or two worth seeing.”

The little man reached down into a deep pocket in his coat, and drew out a tiny harp and a tiny stool. These he set upon the top step of the stile in the sunlight. Then he reached down in his pocket again and drew out a cockchafer. The cockchafer was dressed in a tiny long-tailed coat and breeches, and the moment the little man set him on the stile, he drew the stool up in front of the harp and began to try the strings and tune them up.

When Barney saw this he was so pleased that he let out a whoop of joy.

“Wait a bit, for the story is not yet half told,” said the little man in green. He then drew out a mouse dressed as a gentleman of quality, and a bumblebee in a flowered silk skirt and overdress. The cockchafer began to play a tune, the mouse bowed to the bumblebee, she courtesied to him and the brindled cow he was driving before him, and at sound of the gay music, Barney threw back his head and laughed and laughed; his feet began to jig it, the hat bounced on his head, and the very cow herself jumped about and waved her tail gayly.

After Barney had danced and laughed himself weak, the tune came to an end; the dancers stopped to rest, and Barney and the cow, too, stood still.

“Well, and what do you think of that?” asked the little man.

“I think it’s a better sight than any I’ll be after seeing at the fair.”

“Listen now,” the little man went on. “It’s needing a good cow I am. The truth is that those who live under the hill have sent me out to buy one, and if you like, I will give you the little harp and the musician for your white cow.”

Barney looked, and wished and scratched his head. “It’s not the sort of price my mother thought I’d be after getting,” he said.

“It’s a price that will be worth more than gold and silver to you in the end,” said the little man.

Well, the end of it was that Barney gave him the cow and received in exchange the harp, the stool, and the little cockchafer. He took out his handkerchief and wrapped them up in it very carefully, and when he looked about again the little man and Whitey had disappeared entirely. There was no sign of them anywhere.

“And that’s a curious thing, too,” said Barney to himself, and then he set out for home.

When he came within sight of the house, his mother was at the window watching for him, and she came out to meet him.

“I see you sold the cow,” she said. “And how much did you get for it?”

“Come inside and I’ll show you.”

They went into the house and Barney dusted off the table; then he untied his handkerchief and put the harp, the stool, and the little musician upon it. The cockchafer made a bow to Barney’s mother; then he seated himself and began to play, and if Barney had laughed before he roared with pleasure now. The old woman, too, began to laugh and that was what she had not done for many a year before. She laughed till the tears ran down her face, and then she dropped into a chair and laughed some more.

But, when at last the tune came to an end, the old woman wiped her eyes and began to come to herself. Then she remembered the cupboard was still bare, and the rent still due the landlord in spite of all the gay doings.

“You worthless lout!” she cried to her son. “Is that what you sold the cow for? How do you expect us to fill our stomachs and pay the landlord with such nonsense as that?”

Barney had no answer to make, for he did not know.

Well, the money must be had, and the next morning, Barney’s mother sent him off to the fair again, and this time it was the brindled cow he was driving before him and it was a much finer and larger cow than old Whitey had been.

When he came near the stile he kept looking and looking to see whether the little man in green was there, but it was not until the lad came quite close to it that he saw him. There sat the small one on the top step in the sunlight, with his red cap lying beside him.

“And how did your mother like the price you got for old Whitey?” asked the small man.

“Little enough; and the thanks are owing to you for the scolding I got.”

“Never mind! She’ll be thankful enough some day for the price I paid you. Is the brindled cow for sale, too?”

“Not to you,” answered Barney.

“Ah, Barney, Barney! I’m after thinking you must be the simpleton some folk call you. There’s no one can pay you such a good price as I offer. If you had but this gay gentleman of a mouse to dance to the music your mother would be fit to split her sides with laughter; and you may have him for your own in exchange for that cow.”

No, Barney would not listen to such a thing, but the little man coaxed and wheedled, until at last Barney gave him the cow, and took the little mouse in exchange for it.

When he reached home, his mother was on the lookout for him.

“How much money did you get for the cow?” she asked.

Barney made no answer to this, but he untied his handkerchief, and let the little mouse step out on the table. It had a cocked hat under its arm, and with its claws on its hip, he made a grand bow to the old woman. She could do nothing but stare and grin with admiration. Then Barney put the cockchafer and the harp on the table too, and as soon as it had tuned up, it began to play, and the tune was so gay that the very heart danced in the bosom. The mouse began to dance and twirl and jig up and down, and Barney and his mother stood and laughed until they almost split their sides.

But after the tune was all played out, the old woman came to herself again; an angry soul was she. She fell to crying just as hard as she had laughed before, for the white cow was gone, and the brindled cow was gone, and the landlord no nearer to being paid than he had been two days before.

But the money they must have, and there was nothing for it but that Barney must set off the next day for the fair with the red cow, and she was the finest of the three.

He trudged along, driving it before him, and after a while he came to the stile, and there was the little man in green seated on it.

“Good-day to you, Barney,” said he.

Barney answered never a word.

“That’s a fine cow you have there.”

Barney trudged along as though he had not heard him, and never so much as turned his head.

“Nay, but wait a bit, friend Barney,” went on the little man. “We have made two bargains, and now we ought to make the third, for there’s luck in odd numbers—or so people say.”

Barney would have walked on if he could, but when the little man said, “Wait a bit,” it seemed as though he were rooted to the ground, and he could not stir a step, however he tried.

Then the small one began to beg and plead with him to let him have the cow in exchange for the bumblebee, and for a long time Barney said no. At last, however, he could refuse no longer; the trade was made, and no sooner had the lad agreed and taken the bumblebee in his handkerchief, than—pouff! whisk! the small man and the cow both disappeared like the breath from a window-pane.

Barney stared and wondered, and then he turned home again, but the nearer he came to the house the slower he walked, for he had some notion as to what his mother would have to say about the bargain he had made.

Well, things turned out just about as he had thought they would. When he first put the bumblebee and the others on the kitchen table, when the cockchafer began to play and the others to dance, his mother laughed and laughed as she had never laughed before in all her life. But when they stopped and she had come to herself again, she was so angry she was not content with scolding. She caught up a broom, and if Barney had not run out and hidden in the cow byre he would have had a clubbing that would have dusted his coat for him.

However, what was done was done, and what they were to do now to get food and money was more than either of them could say. However, the next morning, Barney had a grand scheme in his head.

“Listen, mother; I have a scheme that may bring us in a few pennies,” he said. “I will take the cockchafer, the mouse and the bumblebee with me to the fair to-day. When we are there the cockchafer shall play the harp and the mouse and the bumblebee shall dance, and it may be that the people will be so pleased with their tricks that they will give me some pennies.”

There seemed nothing better to do than this, so the widow gave her consent, and off Barney set, and if his heart was light his stomach was lighter for he had had nothing to put in it that morning.

He trudged along and trudged along, and after a time he came to the stile, and there was the little green man sitting on it just as he had sat before.

“Good-day, Barney,” said he.

“Good-day, and bad luck to you,” answered Barney. “It was an ill trick you played upon me when you took from me our three cows, and gave me only such nonsense as I carry here in my pocket.”

“Barney,” said the little man, and he spoke solemnly, “never again in all your life will you make as good a bargain as you made with me. I tell you now for a truth that the price I paid you shall be the making of you.”

“And how will that be?” asked Barney.

“That is what I came here to tell you,” said the little man. “It is no doubt well-known to you that the king of Erin has a daughter.”

“It is that,” answered Barney.

“But it may not also be known to you that this princess is so beautiful that there never was anything like it seen in all the world before, and that she is also as sad as she is beautiful. It is feared, indeed, that unless something happens to cheer her she will grieve her life away. Therefore, the king, her father, has promised that whoever can make her laugh three times shall have her for his wife.”

“But what have I to do with all that?” asked Barney.

“You have this to do with it, that you may be the lad to raise the laugh and to have her for a wife, and it is with the cockchafer, the mouse and the bumblebee that you shall do it.”

“And that’s the truth!” cried Barney slapping his leg, “for sure there’s never a soul in all the world that could see those creatures at their tricks and keep a sober face on him.”

The little man then told him exactly how he was to proceed and act, and Barney listened till he had made an end of all he had to say, and then pouff! he vanished, and Barney saw him no more.

He now turned his face away from the fair and toward where the palace lay, and off he set, one foot before the other, as fast as he could go.

After a long journey he came to the place he wished to go, and a very grand fine palace it was when he reached it. But in front of it there was a strange sight, and one that Barney had no liking for; for there in front of the door were twelve tall stakes, and upon eleven of these stakes were eleven heads, but upon the twelfth stake there was no head.

However, Barney did not stay there long looking at it, for he had other business on hand than that.

He marched up to the palace door and rapped upon it loudly with his stick. In a moment it opened and there stood a man, all in gold lace, looking out at him. “What do you want here?” he asked.

“I have come to see the princess and to make her laugh,” answered Barney as bold as brass.

“You have a hard task before you,” said the man. “However, I am not the one to say you nay, and I will go and tell the king you are here.”

He went away and then presently he came back again and the king was with him.

The king looked Barney up and down and then he said, “You are a fine stout lad, but I misdoubt me you are not the one to make the princess laugh. However, you may try it if you like, but first you must know the conditions. You must make her laugh three times before you can have her for a wife, and if you fail your head will be cut off and set upon a stake, for so the princess has made me promise it shall be.” The king further told him that eleven stout lads had already lost their heads,—“and there they are to prove it,” he said, and he pointed to the stakes before the palace door.

Barney looked, and saw again that the twelfth had nothing on it, and he liked the looks of it even less than before, for it seemed to him it would fit his head exactly.

However, he was not one to turn back. “Your majesty, I will try it whether or no.”

“Very well,” said the king; “and when will you try?”

“Now,” said Barney; “in a moment.”

He then took out the cockchafer, the mouse and the bumblebee and tied them all together with a long string, one in front of the other, and set them on the floor and took the end of the string in his hand.

When the king saw that, he began to laugh, and the man in gold lace began to laugh. They laughed and laughed until the tears ran down their cheeks and they had to wipe them away.

“After all,” said the king, “you may be the one to win the princess for a wife.” With that they set off down a long hall, the king first, and the man in gold lace next, and, last of all, Barney with the three little creatures following.

At the end of this hall was a grand fine room with a grand fine throne in it, and upon this throne sat the princess, and she was looking very sad. All her ladies that stood around looked sad too, for that was the polite thing for them to do when she was sorrowful.

When the princess saw the king she frowned; and when she saw the man in gold lace she scowled. But when she saw Barney in all his tags and rags holding one end of the string, and the three little creatures hopping along behind him, first she smiled and then she grinned, and then she threw back her head and let out such a laugh you could have heard it a mile away.

“That’s one!” cried Barney.

Then he untied the little creatures and called for a table and set them upon it, and he drew out the harp and stool and gave it to the cockchafer. It seated itself and tuned the harp, while the princess and all her ladies stared and stared. Then it began to play and the mouse and the bumblebee began to dance; you’d have thought they’d had wings to their feet.

At that the princess let out a laugh that was twice as loud as the other.

“Thank you, princess,” said Barney, “that’s two.”

At that the princess stopped laughing and looked as glum as the grave. The cockchafer played, the others danced, faster and faster, but not a third laugh could they get out of the princess, and it seemed as though Barney were to lose his head after all. But the little mouse saw as well as Barney what was like to happen, and all of a sudden he whirled around and brought his tail, whack! across the bumblebee’s mouth. That set the bumblebee to coughing. It coughed and coughed as though it would cough its head off. Then the princess began to laugh for the third time. The more it coughed the more she laughed till it seemed as though she might die of laughing.

“That makes the third time,” cried Barney, “and now I think you’ll own I’ve fairly won the princess.”

Well, no one could deny that, so he was taken to another grand room in the palace and there he was washed and combed and dressed in fine clothes, and when that was done, he looked so brave and straight and handsome that the princess was glad enough to have him for a husband.

They were married the next day, and a coach and four were sent to bring the old mother to the wedding. When she came and saw her own son, Barney, dressed in that way and holding a royal princess by the hand, she could hardly believe her eyes, and almost died of joy as the princess had of laughing. A great feast was made, and the little man in green was there, too, and feasted with the best of them, but nobody saw him for he had his red cap on his head, and that made him invisible.