Magic & Myth: Ireland’s Folk Tales (Audiobook)
Top Talent
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
Irish (Eastern- Leinster, Dublin) Irish (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Paul sat up in bed, he could hear music coming from outside. He knew it was late because the house was very, very quiet on the moonlight, which slanted in through his window when he went to bed, was now spilling in through the glass pane on the other side of the room. He got out of bed, tiptoed over to the window and peered out the full moon, lit everything in a ghostly silver white light and somehow made the shadows seem even darker. But he could see no one. He listened hard, trying to pinpoint the direction of the noise. It was thin and high, like a pipe or flute, or maybe even the delicate sound of a harp on. It seemed to be coming from the little clump of trees that lay at the bottom of the field. Paul shivered not with the cold but with excitement. He crept back to his bed and pulled on his shirt and trousers, grabbing his cardigan as he slipped from the room. In the next room, his big sister, Barona, tossed in, turned in her sleep. She was dreaming about a waterfall on the musical sound it made as it splashed into the pool beneath, and then she dreamt that she was standing on a plank of wood that was being tossed around on a stormy sea. Suddenly, the wood tilted and she fell off and woke up. Paul was shaking her wake up. Wake up, he whispered. What's wrong? She mumbled. Music, he said excitedly. I can hear music outside. What time is it? She demanded, realising How dark the room wass. Oh, it's very late. Everyone's gone to bed on the moon is beginning to sink. It must be three in the morning, Wrona said, angrily pushing herself up into a sitting position. She was a year older than her brother, 10 years old, to his nine years and like to consider herself more grown up. That doesn't matter, Paul said. Someone is playing music outside. Ah, three o'clock in the morning, Wrona said in amazement. You're dreaming. Listen, he said, Just listen, Rhona, listen. And she, too, heard the music. She hopped out of bed, and she and Paul stood on either side of the window, peering out from behind the curtains. I think it's coming from over there, Paul said, pointing down toward the trees. His sister nodded. I think so, too. Let's go, look, Paul said. But it's lays. His sister begun tomorrow's Saturday. We don't have to be up for school, and no one will know. We'll just creeped out by the back door and have a look. It might be a caravan, he added excitedly. Or the fairy host bro? No, whispered very. Host Paul laughed quietly. He didn't believe in fairies. He wasn't so sure about ghosts, though.