"What's the matter? Can't you read yet? My name is written all over the front of my dress. How old are you, boy?"
"Four," replies Lanker, holding up four fingers on his right hand.
"Let me give you a lesson on reading then. Take a look-see," says the doll, as she thrust out her breast. She points her index finger to the first letter, saying.
"Now repeat after me, this is an L." She moves to the next letter, saying; "This is an A. This letter is a N. This one is a K, and this a Y. Do you know what we have spelled already?" the doll asks.
"No," replies Lanker.
"We have spelled Lanky!"
"Wow, that's close to being my name!" Lanker exclaims with joy in his voice.
The doll continues to point as she speaks.
"This is another S, this is a W, here are an A, an N, a K, and here is a Y," she points as she speaks aloud. These four letters, the J, A, N, and the E, are my name. So, all of these letters spell Lanky Swanky Jane! You may call me Jane, however. That's who I am, now boy. Who are you?"
"My name is Lanker. My real name is Hansel Leon Dolittle, but everybody calls me Lanker Doo-lezz."
"Well, that is a neat little name," snaps the doll.
"How old are you?" asked Lanker.
"Oh now, boy, I've been around for many pleasant full moons and planting seasons. Your Mum played with me when she was no bigger than you, as did your grandmother before her. Her mother was the one who created me. She transported me deep into the woods, until we arrived at a mound inhabited by a fairy nymph. This nymph poured the juice squeezed from a Razzle Dazzle Lily, on me, and this juice is what brought me to life. Isn't this so wonderful?"
"The Razzle Dazzle Lily? What is that?"
"You don't know what this lily is? This particular kind of Razzle Dazzle Lilly is really special, above all the others. Its delicate flesh is clear, rather than yellow. Its seeds are a red, tea color. Some people call it the red eyed Lilly.
"It is a magic herb, my boy. It grants life to inanimate objects and offers tangibility to abstract thoughts and ideas. It grows only on the banks of Grandma Sadie Bizzell's Mill Pond. This mill pond sits right across the creek from her wonderful plantation, where the mysterious, enrapturing, magic nectar of corn is produced and sold in great abundance. If you should ever dare to venture into this place, however my young one, be on your wares!"
"Why Jane?" asks Lanker, with a wide-eyed gasp.
"There are Hide Behinds everywhere, boy!" reply Jane.
"Hide Behinds?" asks Lanker. "What on earth are those?"
"No matter which way it is you should ever turn, boy, the Hide Behind is always just to your backside, hiding in the nearest bush or behind the nearest tree. They are fearsome creatures," says the doll in mysterious tones. "They make a noise sounding like umm-yep-yep! You run when you hear that noise, now boy. You hear me?"
"What else must I watch out for, Jane?"
"You have great big Golly Gosh circling all about in the air, and Wom-Bat everywhere all around, who give themselves away by making the noise, wom-bat, wom-bat, wom-bat! especially at night. The greatest danger by far, however, is the evil Ya-Who, who envisions himself as being king Solemente' of all the land, where the old plantation and the pond is to be found. He spends his days sitting around in trees watching things and running around on the dirt roads trying to terrorize all humans from the woods."
"Tell me more about this Ya-Who!,"asks Lanker, with widened eyes and new excitement found in his voice.
"A Ya-Who is a huge, muscular, man-like creature, covered by sores on his face, and thick hair virtually all over his body," speaks the doll in the same low mysterious tones. "He is much larger than a human, however. His teeth are usually half rotten, and he seldom takes a bath. He fantasies that all other Ya-Who's, beings in general, and especially humans, are terrified of him. All of his speech is filled with obscenities and vivid descriptions of how he beat other Ya-Who's up, how many he has cut up and nearly killed, and how many peace-loving humans he has caused to become horribly afraid of him.
"His memory is crystal clear for more than a hundred years back. You 'll know him first by his smell, which precedes his appearance from inside the bush. When you detect the foul odor of rotten eggs mixed with onion, then take cover, my dear boy!" warns the doll, with a firm appearance of solid conviction on her face.
"What else can you tell me about a Ya-Who?" asks Lanker with great enthusiasm.
"Oh, my dear boy, a Ya-Who is the foulest, most disgusting creature in the whole woods. They chew the poisonous shag weed, spitting a sickening black juice everywhere it is they go. They would prefer the beautiful Razzle-Dazzle Lily but are generally not skilled much in finding it. This is why their teeth are so rotten, and they tend to harbor this foul odor, besides the fact of them virtually never washing.
"They ride around in antique, beat up carriages propelled by the power of horses, without making use of the horse. This is another feature about which they love to brag. A horse demands far too much elegance and dedication, extending beyond any of their capabilities to deliver. They are not intelligent, boy, but are potentially very dangerous, should one ever fall into their clutch. Always hold that much in mind, lest ye should stumble badly, living to regret it deeply," continues the informative doll.
"To tell the truth about it, what I am in search of is a pot of gold. I don't really know much about shag-weed, Razzle-Dazzle Lily, Ya-Who's, and such. It has been said where my grandpa, hereabouts, has one, but I am not so sure now. I want to hit it really big in life more than anything else and have lots of exotic adventures!" gleefully exclaims Lanker. "I really, really, want this, Jane!"
"Aye there, my young fellow. You go on and just keep on a looking. If you search hard enough, it will come to you. Everybody is aware the Leprechaun knows where any pot of gold is. What they don't know is that there are several kinds of Leprechaun, not only the green ones. Leprechauns are kind of like jellybeans. There are rose ones, golden ones, and royal ones to be sure; but there are also colorless, crimson, and cerulean ones, with only a few raven ones scattered about, here and there... Now boy," the doll moves closer toward Lanker, "if you will listen, I'll let you in on a secret."
Lanker eases in closer toward the doll as she speaks.
"Yes, please do tell me, I'm all ears," he replies.
"Only the Royal ones know where the pot of gold is. Many of the Irish do not even know this fact, son. Most who tale of leprechauns, only speak in regard to the verdant ones. Another fact is that the crimson ones know far more than they dare tell strangers. The great deceivers, however, are the Raven ones. The colorless ones and those among the verdant, are highly influenced by his falsehoods, his general impish behavior, ridiculous rhymes, sayings, songs, and twisted facts done to suit his own carefully designed purposes. What he desires most of all is that the royal ones, and the crimson, simply hand him hard won information that will assuredly heavily laden his personal coffers, with a minimum effort on his part. So, my best advice is to always steer clear of the wicked Raven Leprechauns, right along with any of his personal associates."
"Where shall I find any of these Leprechauns? I have never even seen one, to tell the truth about it," asks Lanker.
"I should say, boy, Leprechauns are unusual creatures. They tend to favor open woods but seek to avoid all humans. For that reason, they can be found inside extremely dense, brier and bramble woodlands. They generally tend to haunt the banks, around creeks and streams. They stand about in the shadows to observe. Oftentimes they are standing nearly right beside a person, and that person is never aware of it."
"What are they looking for?" asks Lanker.
"They are searching for good character in mankind. I once ran across one carrying a well-lit candle lantern in broad daylight. I asked him what in heaven's name was he looking for, and his reply was a human in possession of the truth. Real people, he went on to inform me, were as rare as monkey mittens and possum sushi. All he ever encountered, he sighed as he informed me, were the plastic kinds, manufactured by the new idiot box, and the great lies it spoke so repetitively.
"That was why most men were such imbeciles, he went on, because they spend most of their thoughts and waking hours glued to this box filled with fools, listening to the lies of bankers, corporate CEOs, and merchandisers seeking to compel one into making purchase of their products. After he listens to this box for enough time, he becomes convinced to the point of fighting, that products intentionally crafted far away overseas, intentionally designed to be inferior, are far superior to even the very best crafted stateside in the past.
"To make matters worse, most humans ardently accept these lies that self-serving foreigners are better skilled at producing products, than their own local people. The few intellectual humans existing well know everything is really all about money anyway. These foreigners will labor for a mere five percent of what a person stateside will.
"This deceived majority of mankind, so I was informed by this Leprechaun bearing the lantern, also believes by embracing the same degradation and debauchery nine thousand years of history informs us has destroyed great empires, mankind will be led onto a much higher plateau of success and cultural advancement. The entire so-called civilization of man is built on nothing but sheer lies, crafted up to be a truth, only positively serving an elitist few among their own kind, so I discovered. Most humans really are disgusting fools, to say the least. I am not impressed by 'em at all, I tell you, so informed this royal Leprechaun.
"Like I told you before, little boy, these Leprechauns are far more knowledgeable than most humans shall ever know. That is why they avoid people. They are the wise elves of the wood, known by the Irish from distant antiquity."