Poems

The Lepracaun Or Fairy Shoemaker

William Allingham 1824 – 1889
 
Little Cowboy, what have you heard,
   Up on the lonely rath’s green mound?
   Only the plaintive yellow bird
   Sighing in sultry fields around,
   Chary, chary, chary, chee-ee!—
   Only the grasshopper and the bee?—
     ‘Tip-tap, rip-rap,
     Tick-a-tack-too!
   Scarlet leather, sewn together,
   This will make a shoe.
   Left, right, pull it tight;
   Summer days are warm;
   Underground in winter,
   Laughing at the storm!’
   Lay your ear close to the hill.
   Do you not catch the tiny clamour,
   Busy click of an elfin hammer,
   Voice of the Lepracaun singing shrill
   As he merrily plies his trade?
     He’s a span
     And a quarter in height.
   Get him in sight, hold him tight,
     And you’re a made
       Man!

   You watch your cattle the summer day,
   Sup on potatoes, sleep in the hay;
   How would you like to roll in your carriage,
   Look for a duchess’s daughter in marriage?
   Seize the Shoemaker—then you may!
     ‘Big boots a-hunting,
     Sandals in the hall,
     White for a wedding-feast,
     Pink for a ball.
     This way, that way,
     So we make a shoe;
     Getting rich every stitch,
     Tick-tack-too!’
   Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks
   This keen miser-fairy hath,
   Hid in mountains, woods, and rocks,
   Ruin and round-tow’r, cave and rath,
   And where the cormorants build;
     From times of old
     Guarded by him;
   Each of them fill’d
     Full to the brim
       With gold!

   I caught him at work one day, myself,
   In the castle-ditch where foxglove grows,—
   A wrinkled, wizen’d, and bearded Elf,
   Spectacles stuck on his pointed nose,
   Silver buckles to his hose,
   Leather apron—shoe in his lap—
     ‘Rip-rap, tip-tap,
     Tick-tack-too!
     (A grasshopper on my cap!
     Away the moth flew!)
     Buskins for a fairy prince,
     Brogues for his son,—
     Pay me well, pay me well,
     When the job is done!’
   The rogue was mine, beyond a doubt.
   I stared at him; he stared at me;
   ‘Servant, Sir!’ ‘Humph!’ says he,
   And pull’d a snuff-box out.
   He took a long pinch, look’d better pleased,
   The queer little Lepracaun;
   Offer’d the box with a whimsical grace,—
   Pouf! he flung the dust in my face,
   And while I sneezed,
       Was gone!
 

Analysis (ai): The poem uses a ballad-like quatrains with irregular rhyme and meter, alternating narrative passages with the leprechaun’s rhythmic refrain. Its form echoes folk traditions common in mid-19th-century Romanticism, prioritizing musicality over strict metrical control, aligning with Allingham’s frequent use of lyrical simplicity in his folklore-inspired verse.
Narrative Voice and Perspective: A dialogue structure frames the encounter, shifting between an inquisitive speaker and the internal monologue of a rural observer. This layered narration creates dramatic immediacy, distinguishing it from the more uniformly lyrical tone of Allingham’s nature poems.
Supernatural Element and Folklore: Rooted in Irish rural myth, the leprechaun appears not as whimsy but as a guarded, skilled artisan with autonomy and wit. Unlike contemporaneous folk retellings that sanitize or mock such figures, this portrayal retains their ambiguous, trickster status, closer to regional oral traditions than Victorian romanticization.
Economic Subtext: The promise of wealth through capture reflects anxieties over land, labor, and class mobility in 19th-century Ireland. The leprechaun’s riches are hoarded across hidden, liminal spaces—emphasizing colonial disruption of local economies and the mythologizing of lost Gaelic wealth.
Characterization of the Elf: Described with precise, almost comical detail—spectacles, snuff-box, buckles—the creature blends the mundane with the magical. His domesticated appearance contrasts with typical feral fairy depictions, suggesting industrial-age familiarity, a subtle modernization of folklore motifs.
Moment of Defeat: The narrator’s failure, triggered by a sneeze after receiving snuff, undercuts heroic expectation. This anti-climax aligns with Allingham’s recurring skepticism toward romantic quests, differing from triumphalist narratives in his contemporaries’ folk poems.
Sound and Refrain: Onomatopoeic phrases like “Tip-tap, rip-rap” mimic shoemaking and recur like a chant, embedding the poem in oral performance. These refrains function rhythmically more than symbolically, serving as sonic anchors rather than metaphoric depth.
Historical Context: Composed during the rise of Celtic Revival, the poem avoids overt nationalism. While peers like Yeats later infused folklore with political symbolism, Allingham’s approach remains grounded in personal encounter, less ideological and more anecdotal.
Place in the Author’s Work: Among Allingham’s lesser-known narrative pieces, this stands out for its sustained dialogue and comic irony, diverging from his typical melancholic lyricism. It reflects his interest in peripheral Irish identities, though without the elegiac tone of his better-known nature elegies.
Reader’s Temptation and Irony: The direct address (“How would you like to roll in your carriage?”) implicates the reader in the greed that leads to failure. This rhetorical strategy, uncommon in his other folk poems, introduces a self-awareness akin to didactic fable.
Language and Diction: Archaic terms like “rath” and “wizen’d” sit alongside colloquial phrasing, creating temporal ambiguity. The blend reinforces the folkloric setting while making the supernatural accessible, avoiding the heavily antiqued diction common in Victorian medievalism.
Contrast with Era’s Norms: Unlike contemporaneous fairy poems that emphasize beauty and enchantment (e.g., Tennyson’s The Palace of Art), this focuses on craft, utility, and evasion. The leprechaun’s labor is foregrounded, not his magic, reflecting a materialist angle rare in Romantic-era fairy depictions.
Subversion of Capture Trope: The failure to retain the fairy resists colonial or patriarchal conquest tropes prevalent in 19th-century literature. Instead, the creature escapes through wit, positioning indigenous folklore as elusive and unconquerable, even when observed.
Modern Resonance: Post-1900 readers may interpret the hidden hoards and inaccessible wealth as metaphors for systemic inequality or unattainable success, though the poem predates such frameworks. Its irony foreshadows modern skepticism toward instant upward mobility.
Legacy and Reception: Though popular in anthologies, its satirical edge is often overlooked in favor of quaint folk interpretations. A less-discussed reading sees the leprechaun not as a mere trickster but as a figure of resistance, preserving autonomy through performance and misdirection.
Visual and Sensory Detail: Specific imagery—foxglove in the ditch, moth flying, snuff dust—grounds the fantastic in tangible detail. This attention to environment reflects Allingham’s background in visual art and distinguishes the poem from more abstracted fairy verse of the period.
 
 
William Allingham (19 March 1824 – 18 November 1889) was an Irish poet, diarist and editor. He wrote several volumes of lyric verse, and his poem “The Faeries” was much anthologised. But he is better known for his posthumously published Diary, in which he records his lively encounters with Tennyson, Carlyle and other writers and artists. His wife, Helen Allingham, was a well-known artist, watercolourist and illustrator.
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