It is said that there was somewhere in Ireland a territory forbidden to men, which had to remain virgin and wild, because it belonged to a goblin. This territory is called the elf's field.
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ToggleThe elf's field
One day, a man decided to cultivate this forbidden field, and then wanted to return the land. No sooner had he taken his shovel and started when he heard a mischievous little voice saying to him:
- What are you doing here ?
It was a little goblin that had just emerged from a hole in the ground.
"Well, I'm coming to plow the field," replied the man.
- And who gave you permission? resumed the pixie
- No one, said the man, a little stunned.
- So wait, said the elf, we'll help you
And a hundred sprites appeared, and helped him to turn the earth.
The next day, the man wanted to sow. He had hardly wanted to sow when the same little voice said to him:
- What are you doing here ?
- Well I'm crashing, replied the man
- And who gave you permission?
- Anybody !
- So wait, we'll help you, said the goblin.
Two hundred elves then appeared, and helped him to sow his field.
When the wheat had grown, it had to be harvested, but the man was sick, so he asked his young son. When the latter arrived in front of the field, he could not resist: he broke an ear to taste the wheat.
- But what are you doing, then asked the same little goblin who had just appeared.
"Well, I'm tasting the wheat," replied the son.
- And who gave you permission?
- No one: it's my father's field, the child defended himself.
- So wait, we'll help you, said the goblin.
And four hundred goblins came up and chewed up all the wheat, in a few moments.
When the father saw this, he got into a violent anger, and began to hit his son, whom he nevertheless loved very much.
- But what are you doing here, asked the pixie who once again had just arrived.
- I hit my son, who has eaten all my field, replied the furious man.
- So wait, we'll help you, said the pixie harshly.
And eight hundred goblins arose, and smote the child, to the death.
So the mother come in, and seeing it, took her child in her arms, and started to cry.
- But what are you doing here, asked the pixie sadly.
- I am crying for my dead son, said the mother, sobbing.
- So wait, we'll help you ...
A thousand six hundred goblins then arose from the earth, and began to shed all the tears of their bodies, mourning the child with its mother. The tears, so many, became rivers, and they carried away the mother and her child.
So the father was left alone, dazed before his devastated field and his family swept away. An insect stung him, and he scratched to get rid of the itch. The elf then asked him:
- What are you doing here ?
- I'm scratching, because an insect stung me.
- So wait, we'll help you, said the pixie.
And three thousand two hundred goblins arose, and scratched his skin, and then his flesh. Finally, the goblins scratched him to the bone ...