328 A Century of Science 



Goll MacMornee by the other, and, pulling with 

 all their might, tore him from the wall and the 

 floor. But if they did, he left all the skin of his 

 back, from his head to his heels, on the floor and 

 the wall behind him. But when they were going 

 home through the hills of Tralee, they found a 

 sheep on the way, killed it, and clapped the skin 

 on Conan. The sheepskin grew to his body ; and 

 he was so well and strong that they sheared him 

 every year, and got wool enough from his back to 

 make flannel and frieze for the Fenians of Erin 

 ever after.&quot; This is a favourite incident, and recurs 

 in the story of the laughing Gruagach. In most 

 of the Fenian stories the fighting is brisk and in 

 cessant. It is quite a Donnybrook fair. Every 

 body kills everybody else, and then some toothless 

 old woman comes along and rubs a magic salve on 

 them, when, all in a minute, up they pop, and go 

 at it again. 



One of the quaintest conceits, and a pretty one 

 withal, is that of Tir na n-Og, the Land of Youth, 

 the life-giving region just beneath the ground, 

 whence mysteriously spring the sturdy trees, the 

 soft green grass, and the bright flowers. The 

 journey thither is not long ; sometimes the hero 

 just pulls up a root and dives down through the 

 hole into the blessed Tir na n-Og, as primitive a 



