There was once a boy named Johnny Curtin a poor scholar. He was stopping at the house of Dick Cassidy a little farmer who lived not far from the old abbey of Holy Cross in the county of Tipperary. Cassidy was a hearty man and loved a story in his soul. The third night after Johnny had stayed in Cassidys farmhouse after sitting very late telling stories to Dick and the children, he went to sleep on a shake of straw in a corner and there he had a dream. He thought that an old man with a long beard and dressed from head to foot came and stood beside him and called him by his name "Johnny Curtin my child do you know where you are." "I do sir" said Johnny "I am at Dick Cassidys." "John do you know that this land belonged to your own people in the good old times." "Oh Im sure," says' Johnny