The Frog, The Bee, and The Leprechaun Part II

"Here it is, then, Staffie," Bumbles began. "I was flying about in the meadow yesterday hunting for the earliest wildflowers and their fine pollen."

The Tiny Tree Frog hopped along as fast as he could, wanting to hear every word Bumbles was saying.

"As I flitted from hyacinth to daffodil, I heard a most pathetic wailing. Flying toward the sound, I found a wee leprechaun hiding in a crop of yellow mushrooms. He was sad as sad can be! I tried to cheer him up, but none of my talking did any good at all. He just cried and cried."

"A speaking bee is a bit of a shock, I'll have you know. I'd never spoken to one before I met you, Bumbles. He probably hasn't either!"

"I think you're right there. He did eye me suspiciously even after he cried himself out. Finally, however, he spoke. His name is Seamus O'Sheehan. He is 135 Whimble years old, just entering middle age for his folk. He comes from one of the oldest leprechaun lines, known throughout their realm for their fantastic leaping dances on Saint Patrick's Day. There's a problem, though. It seems Seamus O'Sheehan can no longer leap."

"Oh, dear!" Stafford declared. "A leprechaun who cannot leap. It's like a frog who cannot hop or jump. Ever so bad indeed!"

Stafford was stunned. He knew about the leprechauns' magical dances performed under the moon's silvery light on St. Patrick's Day.

"What can we do, Bumbles?"

"First we have to find Seamus. Hopefully, he's still in his hiding place under the toadstool."  (to be continued from The Woodlands - Caelumen)