At moonrise that night Shamus, as you may be well assured, was at the rockin’ stone at the head of the Glen of the Fairies, and from under it he got a little white rod. He went to the hill where the Prince’s castle was to be built, and with the point of the rod he marked out the plan of the castle, and then he went back and left the rod where he got it.

The next morning, when Prince Connal got up out of bed and went out of his little sod hut to take the air, his eyes were opened, I tell you, to see the magnificent castle that was standing finished and with the coping-stones on it on the hill above. He lost no time till he went over to thank Shamus for building him such a beautiful castle; and when Nancy heard that the castle was finished, it was she that was the angry woman.

She went out and looked at the castle, and she wondered and wondered, too, but she said nothing. She had a long chat with Rory that day again, and from Rory she went off to Prince Connal, and says she: “Now, didn’t I tell you right well what Shamus could do?”

“I see you did,” says Prince Connal, “and it is very thankful to you I am. I’m contented now for life,” says he, “and I’ll never forget yourself and Shamus.”

“Contented!” says she; “why, that place isn’t half finished yet.”

“How’s that?” says Prince Connal.

“Why,” says she, “you need a beautiful river flowing past that castle, with lovely trees, and birds singing in the branches, and you should have the ocean roaring up beside it.”

“But still,” says Prince Connal, says he, “one can’t have everything. This is a hundred miles from a river and a hundred miles from an ocean, and no trees ever grew on this hill, nor ever could grow on it, and no bird ever sang on it for the last three hundred years.”

“Then all the more reason,” says she, “why you should have all them things.”

“But I can’t have them,” says Prince Connal.

“Can’t you ? ”says she. “Yes, you can. If you promise to have Shamus’s life unless he has you all those things by your castle in three days, you’ll soon have all you want,” says Nancy.

“Well, well, that’s wonderful,” says Prince Connal, says he, “and I’ll do it.”

So he sets out, and goes to Shamus’s house, and calls Shamus out to him to tell him that his castle was very bare-looking without something about it. Says he: “Shamus, I want you to put a beautiful river flowing past it, with plenty of trees and bushes along the banks, and also birds singing in them; and I want you to have the ocean roaring up by it also.”

“But, Prince Connal,” says Shamus, says he, “you know very well that I couldn’t get you them things.”

“Right well I know you can,” says Prince Connal, “and I’ll give you three days to have all them things done; and if you haven’t them done at the end of three days, then I’ll have your life.” And away goes Prince Connal.

Poor Shamus, he sat down and began to cry at this, because he knew that he could not do one of these things. And as he was crying and crying he heard a voice in his ear, and looking up he saw the Wee Red Man.

“Shamus, Shamus,” says he, “what’s the matter with you?”

“O,” says Shamus, says he, “there’s no use in telling you what’s the matter with me this time. Although you helped me before, there’s not a man in all the world could do what I’ve got to do now.”

“Well, anyhow,” says the Wee Red Man, “if I can’t do you any good, I’ll do you no harm.”

So Shamus, to relieve his mind, ups and tells the Wee Red Man what’s the matter with him.

“Shamus,” says the Wee Red Man, says he, “I’ll tell you what you’ll do. When the moon’s rising to-night, be at the head of the Glen of the Fairies, and at the spring well there you’ll find a cup and a leaf and a feather. Take the leaf and the feather with you, and a cup of water, and go back to the castle. Throw the water from you as far as you can throw it, and then blow the leaf off your right hand, and the feather off your left hand, and see what you’ll see.”

Shamus promised to do this. And when the moon rose that night, Shamus was at the spring well of the Glen of the Fairies, and he found there a cup, a leaf, and a feather. He lifted a cup of water and took it with him, and the leaf and the feather, and started for the castle. When he came there, he pitched the cup of water from him as far as he could pitch it, and at once the ocean, that was a hundred miles away, came roaring up beside the castle, and a beautiful river that had been flowing a hundred miles on the other side of the castle came flowing down past it into the ocean. Then he blew the leaf off his right hand, and all sorts of lovely trees and bushes sprang up along the river banks. Then he blew the feather off his left hand, and the trees and the bushes were filled with all sorts and varieties of lovely singing birds, that made the most beautiful music he ever had heard.

And maybe that was not a surprise to Prince Connal when he got up in the morning and went out. Off he tramped to Shamus’s to thank Shamus and Nancy, and when Nancy heard this she was the angry woman.

That day she had another long confab with Rory, and from him she went off again to Prince Connal, and asked him how he liked his castle and all its surroundings.

He said he was a pleased and proud man, that he was thankful to her and her man, Shamus, and that he would never forget it to them the longest day of his life.

“O, but,” says she, “you’re not content. This night you’ll have a great gathering of princes and lords and gentlemen feasting in your castle, and you’ll surely want something to amuse them with. You must get a plaisham.”

“What’s a plaisham? ”said Prince Connal.

“O,” says Nancy, “it’s the most wonderful and most amusing thing in the world; it will keep your guests in good humor for nine days and nine nights after they have seen it.”

“Well,” says Prince Connal, “that must be a fine thing entirely, and I’m sure I would be mighty anxious to have it. But,” says he, “where would I get it or how would I get it?”

“Well,” says Nancy, “that’s easy. If you order Shamus to bring a plaisham to your castle by supper time this night, and promise to have his life if he hasn’t it there, he’ll soon get it for you.”

“Well, if that’s so,” says Prince Connal, “I’ll not be long wanting a plaisham.”

So home went Nancy rejoicing this time, for she said to herself that poor old Shamus would not be long living now, because there was no such thing known in the whole wide world as a plaisham; and though Shamus might build castles, and bring oceans and rivers and trees and birds to them, all in one night, he could not get a thing that did not exist and was only invented by Rory.

Well, off to Shamus went Prince Connal without much loss of time, and called Shamus out of his little cabin. He told him he was heartily well pleased with all he had done for him. “But there’s one thing more I want you to do, Shamus, and then I’ll be content,” says he. “This night I give a grand supper to the lords, ladies, and gentry of the country, and I want something to amuse them with; so at supper time you must bring me a plaisham.”

“A plaisham! What’s that?” says Shamus.

“I don’t know,” says Prince Connal.

“No more do I,” says Shamus, “an’ how do you expect me to fetch it to you then?”

“Well,” says Prince Connal, says he, “this is all there is to be said about it -- if you haven’t a plaisham at my castle door at supper time the night, you’ll be a dead man.”

“O, O,” says Shamus, says he, and sat down on the ditch and began to cry, while Prince Connal went off home.

“Shamus, Shamus,” says a voice in his ears, “what are you cryin’ about now?”

Poor Shamus lifted his head and looked around, and there beside him stood the Wee Red Man.