That was on the first of February, at the very beginning of spring. Finn, when he came home from school was sent by his grandmother to cut rushes, and when he had made a bundle he left them in the shed. He went into the house then and he saw that a little feast was being prepared in the room where the sacred pictures were. A white cloth had been put on the table and lighted candles were placed on it. A girl from the village had come to help his grandmother and she was minding the cake that was baking at the fire.

The four of them—his grandfather and grandmother, the girl and Finn—sat down to supper in the room, and they had with their milk and tea, eggs and cake and honey. Then when the table was cleared they all knelt down and his grandfather, in Irish, offered up a long prayer in which thanks were given to Saint Bridget, who, under God, had kept the family under protection for the year that was past. Then another long prayer was offered up asking that Saint Bridget should remember them in the year that was coming and protect them against all evils that threatened soul and body. In this prayer everything inside the house and outside of it was placed under the protection of Saint Bridget—the cows and the horse, the sheep and the pigs—the dogs even. Finn remembered the lone pigeon that kept indoors, hopping around the house, and the lamb that his grandfather had promised him, and he asked Saint Bridget to protect them especially.

Then, while the rest were still kneeling, the girl who was servant for the evening got up off her knees and went outside. Last year, Finn remembered, it was his mother who went outside; both she and the girl from the village had Bridget for their name. A knock came to the door. "Who is there?" asked the grandfather in Irish, and the person outside answered also in Irish, "It is Bridget." The said "Welcome to you," and the person outside responded, "Rise off your knees, open the door and let poor Bridget in." Then the grandfather, the grandmother and little Finn answered, "Come inside and welcome, welcome a hundred times." The girl came in, carrying on her shoulder the rushes Finn had cut and placed in the shed—the "luachair Brighde" or Bridget's rushes. They were left on the table. Then the grandfather took up some of the rushes and wove them into a cross, and the others then took up the rushes and wove them into other crosses. When about a dozen had been made the grandfather took them and laid them by until the next day, in the chest. Early next morning he went to mass and brought back some water that had been blessed in the chapel. With this water the crosses were sprinkled and they were hung from the rafters, on the walls and over the doors and beds. That was on the first of February. The next day the cow had a little calf and Finn was glad to think that the feeble little thing had Saint Bridget's protection.

On the first day of the next month the rooks began to build in the big elm trees that were along the road to Farranboley, and that was the surest sign of all that spring was far advanced. Now, when he went along the road or through the field, he heard the cries of the lambs on the hills. When he went to the well he could see that the young kids had become so venturesome that they leapt up on the ditches and stood on the stone walls. There were two kids with the goats at home: Finn used to carry them in his arms but now they were so active that they bounded away from him.

April came, and the young calves were brought into the field. Then, on the last day of that month, Finn went with the other children to gather the May Eve flowers. They found primroses in the ditches and plucked cowslips in the open field, gathered buttercups and daisies and broke the yellow-blossomed branches off the prickly furze. In the evening the bands of children came back to the cottages and the women took the flowers from them and placed them in bowls and jugs on the dresser. Finn's grandmother took the primroses and left them on the window-sill outside and he knew they were put there that the Fairies might know the house was friendly to them. The Fairies were supposed to be abroad on May Eve and so the children did not venture out again.

On May Day his grandfather took Finn out and showed him the beauty of the day. He showed him the lovely light on field and bog and hill and the furze with yellow blossoms against the black stalks that remained from last year's burning. The old horses that eat grass on the side of the mountain had got back spirit and bravery, his grandfather told Finn. Then he repeated a poem that had been made by Finn MacCoul about May Day. In the old days, before a youth entered the Fianna, that companionship of heroes, he had to "prove his poetry," that is, he had to show that he, too, could make a poem. Finn MacCoul, before he entered the Fianna, over which he was afterwards Captain, made this poem upon May Day: