But by the sword of Brian Boru, you'll never get me to fall for the idea that a bunch of moonshine can handle a big woman such as you say Throckmartin's Thora was, nor a two-fisted man such as you say Throckmartin was, nor Huldricksson's wife--and I'll bet she was one of those strapping big northern women too--you'll never get me to believe that any bunch of concentrated moonshine could handle them and take them waltzing off along a moonbeam back to wherever it goes.

No, Doc, not on your life, even Tennessee moonshine couldn't do that--nix!" "All right, O'Keefe," I answered, now very much irritated indeed.
"What's your theory ?" And I could not resist adding: "Fairies ?" "Professor," he grinned, "if that Thing's a fairy it's Irish and when it sees me it'll be so glad there'll be nothing to it.

'I was lost, strayed, or stolen, Larry avick,' it'll say, 'an' I was so homesick for the old sod I was desp'rit,' it'll say, an' 'take me back quick before I do any more har-rm!' it'll tell me--an' that's the truth.
"Now don't get me wrong.

I believe you all saw something all right.
But what I think you saw was some kind of gas.

All this region is volcanic and islands and things are constantly poking up from the sea.
It's probably gas; a volcanic emanation; something new to us and that drives you crazy--lots of kinds of gas do that.