Martin Moylan told me this story.
Martin was proceeding across Feighquin Hill, from his brother in law's house, one summer evening. It was dusk. Martin was then about twenty three or four years. He saw a small little man wearing a red jacket walking along the path some distance before him. At first Martin thought it was John Fahy a local dwarf, but the little man turned about and faced Martin. Martin stepped aside when the little man approached him, and let him pass along the path. Martin continued on his journey. On looking back after a short while, he could not see the little man. He had completely disappeared. There is a fort convenient and Martin imagines that the little man vanished into the fort.
Martin told his experience to Tommy Brennan, a knowledgeable man. Tom said that if Martin had said to the little man
In onóir Dé tabair dhom do shparán