I hadn’t seen the leprechaun before. His two drinking partners were regulars, and you didn’t get a more regular drinker than a leprechaun. But he must have been new in town. He might even have been fresh from the old country. Podraigh and Sean usually started off the evening in quiet conversation with each other over a game of dominoes. After a couple of hours, and considerably more than a couple of beers, they usually ended up in a fight, if not with a band of dwarves then with each other. But tonight they had been in high spirits, chatting and laughing with their new friend.

I had seen the conspiratorial whispering and nudging of elbows. Even as the new man approached the bar Podraigh and Sean were trying to suppress giggles between them behind his back.

So it was no great surprise when he asked me for a quiet word. We went down the quiet end of the bar, where he introduced himself.

"Good evening to you, sir." He said. "Me name is Ignatius, and can I just say what a marvellous institution this is. I have never in me life been in such a warm and friendly pub. I was a little worried, begging your pardon, when me good friends told me they were going to take me to a pub run by a mortal. We often don’t get on with your sort, no offence meant, but there’s been more than one leprechaun that’s lost his gold to a human. But now I’m ashamed of me thoughts. Sure, and you are all a host could be. And that’s no Blarney, believe me. Is there maybe a little Irish in you?"

"This is going to be good", I thought, but I said, "That’s very kind of you, Ignatius."

"Not at all, sir", he continued. "I’ve been touched by the kindness of everyone here. Me dear mother, bless her soul, used to warn me of the wicked ways of the city. If only she were alive now…". He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the corner of his eye. "I’m sorry, sir. But I would have dearly loved to introduce you to her, just to show her that her fears were misplaced."

He rallied himself, stood a little straighter, tugged at the bottom of his jacket and continued. "Podraigh and Sean have been very kind to me as well. A cousin on me mother’s side, rest her bones, knows an uncle of Sean’s. He asked Sean to look out for me, but they have gone beyond their duty. They have kept me entertained this evening, and now it’s me turn. Three pints of Guinness please, with three glasses of the hard stuff, and why not have one yourself?"

I poured the drinks. As I placed them on a tray I glanced over to his two companions. They immediately looked down at their drinks, big grins on their faces. I put the tray on the counter in front of Ignatius but kept my hands resting on it as he reached for it.

"That’ll be £13.53, please", I told him.

At this he looked embarrassed, then reached for his pockets. Then he slowly took his hands out. Empty, I noted. "Ah, well, there’s the thing, see. We’ve been toasting each other’s health. It’s a Leprechaun thing, you see. You have to show each other respect. Well now, Sean toasted the memory of me mother, may she rest in the arms of the saints, and so I was honour bound to insist on buying the drink to toast her with. Me own mother, you understand. I simply had to.

"Well, I’ve only just arrived here in your glorious city. Tomorrow I’m off to find work. Your man knows a few influential people. But till then, I’m a little short. Could you be a gentleman, just for this evening, and I’ll see you right just as soon as I get me first pay packet?"

And he looked at me with doleful eyes that spoke of pride beaten down by misfortune, of honesty and integrity in the face of adversity. I leant forward and motioned him closer. He leaned forward.

Short people never really grasp just how far a 6 foot 3 man can reach. I shot my arm out and grabbed him by his jacket, lifting him clear of the floor. Surprise held him in thrall for a moment, until rage could build up a head of steam. He screamed and struggled and beat at my arm. I don’t work out, but lifting barrels is every bit as good as lifting barbells, and besides, it was my pint-pulling arm. I held him firm.

When he realised that force was useless, he told me to let go. That is to say the words ‘let’ and ‘go’ featured between the string of obscenities that he screamed at me. With my free arm I pulled the swear box over. "Did your mother teach you that language?" I asked.

Then came the threats. He was going to turn me into this, he was going to turn me into that. I must admit that they were almost as inventive as his swearing. I held my free hand up in front of his face. He paused in his invective.

"And just how are you going to do that, what with me holding on to you and all?" I asked him. "I serve magical folk all day, every day. You think I don’t learn the rules? How else could I survive? All the time I have you in my hand, your magic can do nothing to me."

He glowered at me and said in a low voice dripping with venom, "Have you any idea what you are doing? Do you know what it is to one of us to be held by one of you? Better for you if you were never born than to think you can get away with this. Let me go, or by all that’s holy, I will make you suffer for every minute of the rest of your short life."

"Do you have any idea", I countered, "what it is to a barman to be stiffed by one of his customers? Pay for your drinks, and I’ll let go."

"But I’ve explained to you already!" he wailed. "I’m just a poor lad down on me luck. I’m here looking for work. I don’t have any money."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Oh, right. You think that just because I’m a leprechaun I have a pot of gold. That’s racist, that is. Think, man. We can’t all have a pot of gold, now can we? Please, for the love of Mike, let me go,"

I turned him to face his two friends sitting at the table. By this time the pair were laughing out loud, tears streaming down their cheeks.

"Your friend Podraigh there is such an accomplished liar…"

The laughing at the table stopped as though switched off at the mains. The duo jumped to their feet and Podraigh roared "Are you calling me a liar?"

"Embellisher of the truth?" I enquired.

Podraigh turned to his companion and asked, "What’s an embellisher?"

Sean replied, "Someone who makes a thing pretty, is it not?"

"Oh, that’s alright, then. Sure, and I make the truth as pretty as it deserves. Everything always looks better with a bit of a polish. Carry on." And with that they sat down again and waited for the show to continue.

"Podraigh", I continued, "embellishes the truth so well he once convinced me I was good looking." There were fresh roars of laughter from the table. "Sean, on the other hand, is even better. He once convinced me Podraigh was good looking." I thought Sean was going to choke. Podraigh tried to look offended, but couldn’t keep a straight face for more than a moment.

I turned Ignatius back to face me. "But they've never convinced me to give them a free drink. If these two can’t get a free drink out of me, what makes you think that you can? Look, I don’t blame you for trying. Your mates set you up, I understand that. And I know that the opportunity for…", I searched for the right word, "…exaggeration is a difficult habit to pass up. Just give me the £13.53 and we’ll call this quits. Otherwise", I shrugged, "well, I’ll just hang on. Then I’ll be able to take it out of your gold."

"Ignatius," called Sean, "give it up. Not one of us have ever been able to get one over on Bob. I’m sorry, lad, but it was too rich a joke to pass up."

Ignatius looked at Sean for a moment, then gave me a long stare. Finally, reluctantly, he dug into his pocket and produced some notes. I lowered him to the floor, but kept my grip.

"Just so that we understand each other. I could keep a hold. We both know what would happen then, don’t we? Your friends played a joke on you. Chalk it up to experience. Laugh with them, enjoy a few more beers. But if you try to turn me into a frog…"

I shrugged and let him go.

"…Well, how would I serve the next round Sean’s going to buy?"

He glowered at me for a moment, looked at his companions, looked at his feet. Under the counter, out of sight, I rested my hand on the pickaxe handle I had kept there ever since the ogres’ stag night. I hoped I looked confident, because, to tell the truth, I had no idea how this was going to end.

Then he shook his head, gave a short laugh, then wagged his finger at his pals. "May your boots always be two sizes too small, you rascals. And I’m your friend, too!"

Sean slapped him on the shoulder. "And a very generous friend too", he laughed, reaching for the drinks. He winked at me, leant close and quietly said "We wouldn’t have let him do anything to our favourite landlord, now would we?" He nodded at the counter. "Of course, we wouldn’t have let you use that shillelagh you have hidden under there, either". And chuckling, he took the tray back to the table.