Mick sat down, after putting the children to the table, and they made a hearty meal, though they couldn't taste half the dishes.

"Now," says Molly, "I wonder will those two good little gentlemen carry away these fine things again?"

They waited, but no one came; so Molly put up the dishes and plates very carefully, saying, "Why, then, Mick, that was no lie sure enough; but you'll be a rich man yet, Mick Purcell." Mick and his wife and children went to their beds, not to sleep, but to settle about selling the fine things they did not want, and to take more land. Mick went to Cork and sold his plate, and bought a horse and cart, and began to show that he was making money; and they did all they could to keep the bottle a secret; but for all that their landlord found it out, for he came to Mick one day and asked him where he got all his money-sure it was not by the farm; and he bothered him so much that at last Mick told him of the bottle. His landlord offered him a deal of money for it, but Mick would not give it, till at last he offered to give him all his farm forever; so Mick, who was very rich, thought he'd never want any more money, and gave him the bottle. But Mick was mistaken-he and his family spent money as if there was no end of it; and to make the story short, they became poorer and poorer, till at last they had nothing left but one cow; and Mick once more drove his cow before him to sell her at Cork fair, hoping to meet the old man and get another bottle. It was hardly daybreak when he left home, and he walked on at a good pace till he reached the big hill: the mists were sleeping in the valleys and curling like smoke wreaths upon the brown heath around him. The sun rose on his left, and just at his feet a lark sprang from its grassy couch and poured forth its joyous morning song, ascending into the clear blue sky till its form like a speck in the airiness blending, and thrilling with music, was melting in light.

Mick crossed himself, listening as he advanced to the sweet song of the lark, but thinking, notwithstanding, all the time of the little old man; when, just as he reached the summit of the hill, he cast his eyes over the extensive prospect before and around him, he was startled and rejoiced by the same well-known voice:

"Well, Mick Purcell, I told you you would be a rich man."

"Indeed, then, sure enough I was, that's no lie for you, sir. Good morning to you, but it is not rich I am now-but have you another bottle, for I want it now as much as I did long ago? So if you have it, sir, here is the cow for it."

"And here is the bottle," said the old man, smiling, "you know what to do with it."

"Oh! Then, sure I do, as good right I have."

"Well, farewell forever, Mick Purcell; I told you you would be a rich man."

"And goodbye to you, sir," said Mick. So Mick walked back as fast as he could, never looking after the white-faced little gentleman and the cow, so anxious was he to bring home the bottle. Well, he arrived with it safely enough, and called out as soon as he saw Molly: "Oh, sure, I've another bottle!"

"Arrah, then, have you? Why then, you're a lucky man, Mick Purcell, that's what you are." In an instant she put everything right; and Mick, looking at his bottle, exultantly cried out: "Bottle, do your duty!"

In a twinkling, two great stout men with big cudgels issued from the bottle (I do not know how they got room in it), and belabored poor Mick and his wife and all his family, till they lay on the floor, when in they went again.

Mick, as soon as he recovered, got up and looked about him; he thought and thought, and at last he took up his wife and his children; and leaving them to recover as well as they could, he took the bottle under his coat and went to his landlord, who had a great company: he got a servant to tell him he wanted to speak to him, and at last he came out to Mick.

"Well, what do you want now?"

"Nothing, sir, only I have another bottle."

"Oh, ho! Is it as good as the first?"

"Yes, sir, and better; if you like, I will show it to you before all the ladies and gentlemen."

"Come along, then."

So saying, Mick was brought into the great hall, where he saw his old bottle standing high up on a shelf. "Ah! Ha!" says he to himself. "Maybe I'll have you by-and-by."

"Now," says the landlord, "show us your bottle."

Mick set it on the floor and uttered the words. In a moment the landlord was tumbled on the floor; ladies and gentlemen, servants and all, were running, and roaring, and sprawling, and kicking, and shrieking. Wine cups and plates were knocked about in every direction, until the landlord called out: "Stop those two devils, Mick Purcell, or I'll have you hanged!"

"They never shall stop," said Mick, "till I get my own bottle that I see up there at the top of that shelf."

"Give it down to him, give it down to him, before we are all killed!" says the landlord. Mick put his bottle into his bosom; in jumped the two men into the new bottle, and he carried them home. I need not tell how he got richer than ever, how his son married his landlord's only daughter, how he and his wife died when they were very old, and how some of the servants, fighting at their wake, broke the bottles so no one could ever use them again.
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