Andrew Coffey
by Joseph Jacobs · from Collected Folk Tales
Adapted Version
Andy was out for a walk. He got a little lost. The sun was shining brightly. He walked and walked. The path looked new. He found a cozy little cabin. Fancy that!
He went inside the cabin. It was quiet inside. A small fire crackled in the hearth. "Andy! Andy!" called a friendly voice. Andy looked all around. He saw no one there. His heart beat a little fast.
"Tell me a story, Andy!" said the voice again.
A closet door creaked open. Out came Pat. He was smiling a big smile. "Hello, Andy!" said Pat. "Please tell me a nice story."
Andy felt very surprised. He walked back outside. He saw his friends in the field. They were carrying a big wooden box. Andy hid behind a tall tree. He watched them quietly. He felt a little uneasy.
The friends set the heavy box down. They opened the lid. Pat was inside! He was pretending to be a statue. The friends made a pretend campfire. They were playing a fun game.
"Come play with us, Andy!" called Pat. "Help with the pretend fire!"
Andy came down from his spot. He helped with the happy game. He turned the pretend spit. Pat laughed a loud laugh. "I am getting so warm!" he joked.
Then Pat got free. He jumped up quickly. "Tag! You're it!" he cried. Andy felt a jolt of surprise. He laughed and ran. It was a fun, silly chase. His heart beat very fast.
Andy ran back to the cabin. He was a little tired from running. Pat was already there. "Will you tell me a story now?" asked Pat.
"Yes!" said Andy. "I will tell you my whole adventure."
Andy told his story. He told about getting a little lost. He told about the cozy cabin. He told about the fun game. He felt very sleepy.
Andy fell fast asleep. He woke up on a soft hill. The sun was warm on his face. His horse was there beside him. It was grazing on sweet grass. Andy smiled a happy smile. What a very strange and wonderful dream!
Original Story
ANDREW COFFEY
y grandfather, Andrew Coffey, was known to the whole barony as a quiet, decent man. And if the whole barony knew him, he knew the whole barony, every inch, hill and dale, bog and pasture, field and covert. Fancy his surprise one evening, when he found himself in a part of the demesne he couldn't recognise a bit. He and his good horse were always stumbling up against some tree or stumbling down into some bog-hole that by rights didn't ought to be there. On the top of all this the rain came pelting down wherever there was a clearing, and the cold March wind tore through the trees. Glad he was when he saw a light in the distance, and drawing near found a cabin, though for the life of him he couldn't think how it came there. However, in he walked, after tying up his horse, and right welcome was the brushwood fire blazing on the hearth. And there stood a chair right and tight, that seemed to say, "Come, sit down in me." There wasn't a soul else in the room. Well, he did sit, and got a little warm and cheered after his drenching. But all the while he was wondering and wondering. [218]
" Andrew Coffey! Andrew Coffey! "
Good heavens! who was calling him, and not a soul in sight? Look around as he might, indoors and out, he could find no creature with two legs or four, for his horse was gone.
" Andrew Coffey! Andrew Coffey! Tell me a story. "
It was louder this time, and it was nearer. And then what a thing to ask for! It was bad enough not to be let sit by the fire and dry oneself, without being bothered for a story.
" Andrew Coffey! Andrew Coffey! Tell me a story, or it'll be the worse for you. "
My poor grandfather was so dumfounded that he could only stand and stare.
" Andrew Coffey! Andrew Coffey! I told you it'd be the worse for you. "
And with that, out there bounced from a cupboard that Andrew Coffey had never noticed before, a man . And the man was in a towering rage. But it wasn't that. And he carried as fine a blackthorn as you'd wish to crack a man's head with. But it wasn't that either. But when my grandfather clapped eyes on him, he knew him for Patrick Rooney, and all the world knew he'd gone overboard, fishing one night, long years before.
Andrew Coffey would neither stop nor stay, but he took to his heels and was out of the house as hard as he could. He ran and he ran, taking little thought of what was before till at last he ran up against a big tree. And then he sat down to rest. [219]
He hadn't sat for a moment when he heard voices.
"It's heavy he is the vagabond." "Steady now, we'll rest when we get under the big tree yonder." Now that happened to be the tree under which Andrew Coffey was sitting. At least he thought so, for seeing a branch handy he swung himself up by it, and was soon snugly hidden away. Better see than be seen, thought he.
The rain had stopped and the wind fallen. The night was blacker than ever, but Andrew Coffey could see four men, and they were carrying between them a long box. Under the tree they came, set the box down, opened it, and who should they bring out but—Patrick Rooney. Never a word did he say, and he looked as pale as old snow.
Well, one gathered brushwood, and another took out tinder and flint, and they soon had a big fire roaring, and my grandfather could see Patrick plainly enough. If he had kept still before, he kept stiller now. Soon they had four poles up and a pole across, right over the fire, for all the world like a spit, and on to the pole they slung Patrick Rooney.
"He'll do well enough," said one; "but who's to mind him whilst we're away, who'll turn the fire, who'll see that he doesn't burn?"
With that Patrick opened his lips: "Andrew Coffey!" said he.
"Andrew Coffey! Andrew Coffey! Andrew Coffey! Andrew Coffey!"
"I'm much obliged to you, gentlemen," said An [220] drew Coffey, "but indeed I know nothing about the business."
"You'd better come down, Andrew Coffey," said Patrick. It was the second time he spoke, and Andrew Coffey decided he would come down. The four men went off, and he was left all alone with Patrick.
Then he sat and he kept the fire even, and he kept the spit turning, and all the while Patrick looked at him.
Poor Andrew Coffey couldn't make it all out, at all, at all, and he stared at Patrick and at the fire, and he thought of the little house in the wood, till he felt quite dazed.
"Ah, but it's burning me, ye are!" says Patrick, very short and sharp.
"I'm sure I beg your pardon," said my grandfather, "but might I ask you a question?"
"If you want a crooked answer," said Patrick; "turn away, or it'll be the worse for you."
But my grandfather couldn't get it out of his head, hadn't everybody, far and near, said Patrick had fallen overboard. There was enough to think about, and my grandfather did think.
" Andrew Coffey! Andrew Coffey! It's burning me ye are. "
Sorry enough my grandfather was, and he vowed he wouldn't do so again.
"You'd better not," said Patrick, and he gave him a cock of his eye, and a grin of his teeth, that just sent a shiver down Andrew Coffey's back. Well, it was odd, that here he should be in a thick wood he [221] had never set eyes upon, turning Patrick Rooney upon a spit. You can't wonder at my grandfather thinking and thinking and not minding the fire.
" Andrew Coffey! Andrew Coffey! It's the death of you I'll be. "
And with that what did my grandfather see, but Patrick unslinging himself from the spit, and his eyes glared and his teeth glistened.
It was neither stop nor stay my grandfather made, but out he ran into the night of the wood. It seemed to him there wasn't a stone but was for his stumbling, not a branch but beat his face, not a bramble but tore his skin. And wherever it was clear the rain pelted down and the cold March wind howled along.
Glad was he to see a light, and a minute after he was kneeling, dazed, drenched, and bedraggled by the hearth side. The brushwood flamed, and the brushwood crackled, and soon my grandfather began to feel a little warm and dry and easy in his mind. [222]
" Andrew Coffey! Andrew Coffey! "
It's hard for a man to jump when he has been through all my grandfather had, but jump he did. And when he looked around, where should he find himself but in the very cabin he had first met Patrick in.
"Andrew Coffey, Andrew Coffey, tell me a story."
"Is it a story you want?" said my grandfather as bold as may be, for he was just tired of being frightened. "Well, if you can tell me the rights of this one, I'll be thankful."
And he told the tale of what had befallen him from first to last that night. The tale was long, and maybe Andrew Coffey was weary. It's asleep he must have fallen, for when he awoke he lay on the hill-side under the open heavens, and his horse grazed at his side.
[223]
Story DNA
Plot Summary
Andrew Coffey, a man familiar with his land, becomes lost during a storm and seeks shelter in a mysterious cabin. He is repeatedly called by name and confronted by the ghost of Patrick Rooney, a man believed drowned, who demands a story. Andrew flees, only to witness Patrick being prepared for roasting on a spit by other figures. Compelled by Patrick, Andrew tends the fire, but when Patrick threatens him, Andrew flees again, enduring a terrifying chase. He finds himself back in the cabin, recounts his ordeal to Patrick, falls asleep, and awakens on a hillside, leaving the night's events as an unsettling, ambiguous memory.
Themes
Emotional Arc
bewilderment to terror to relief (and back to bewilderment)
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
Joseph Jacobs collected and retold many English, Scottish, and Irish folk tales, preserving their oral storytelling qualities. This story reflects common Irish folklore themes of encounters with the supernatural and the dead, often in liminal spaces or during journeys.
Plot Beats (11)
- Andrew Coffey, a man who knows his land well, gets lost in an unfamiliar part of the demesne during a storm.
- He finds a mysterious cabin, enters, and hears his name called, followed by a demand for a story.
- A man, revealed to be the long-dead Patrick Rooney, emerges from a cupboard, enraged, and threatens Andrew.
- Andrew flees the cabin and hides in a tree, where he overhears men carrying a box.
- The men open the box, reveal Patrick Rooney, and prepare to roast him on a spit over a fire.
- Patrick, from the spit, calls Andrew's name, compelling him to come down and tend the fire, turning the spit.
- Andrew, bewildered, tends the fire, while Patrick complains of being burned and threatens him.
- Patrick unslings himself from the spit, his eyes glaring, and Andrew flees in terror through the woods.
- After a harrowing chase, Andrew finds himself back in the mysterious cabin, drenched and dazed.
- Patrick again demands a story, and Andrew, tired of being frightened, agrees to tell his tale if Patrick can explain it.
- Andrew recounts the night's events, falls asleep, and wakes up on a hillside with his horse, implying the entire ordeal was a dream or supernatural illusion.
Characters
Andrew Coffey ★ protagonist
None explicitly mentioned, but implied to be a sturdy man capable of running and enduring hardship.
Attire: Period-appropriate clothing for a rural Irish man, likely practical and somewhat worn, as he is out in bad weather.
Quiet, decent, easily bewildered, resilient, eventually bold when pushed.
Image Prompt & Upload
A young man in his late teens with tousled chestnut hair and determined hazel eyes. He wears a simple, slightly worn tunic of undyed linen over dark trousers and scuffed leather boots. A weathered leather satchel is slung across his chest. He stands with a confident posture, one hand resting on the hilt of a short sword at his belt, his expression a mix of resolve and gentle curiosity. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Patrick Rooney ⚔ antagonist
Pale as old snow, later described with glaring eyes and glistening teeth.
Attire: None explicitly mentioned, but likely simple, possibly wet or tattered from his 'overboard' incident.
Demanding, menacing, vengeful, enjoys tormenting Andrew.
Image Prompt & Upload
A middle-aged man with a sharp, angular face and piercing cold grey eyes. His dark hair is slicked back severely from a high forehead. He wears an impeccably tailored, high-collared suit of dark burgundy velvet, with a silver signet ring on his finger. He stands with a rigid, authoritative posture, one hand resting on the head of an ebony walking cane, his expression a thin, calculating smirk. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Four Men ○ minor
None explicitly mentioned.
Attire: None explicitly mentioned; likely dark, practical clothing suitable for carrying a box at night.
Mysterious, cooperative in their task, seemingly in league with Patrick Rooney.
Image Prompt & Upload
Four adolescent males stand together in a casual group. One has messy brown hair, a freckled face, and wears a faded green tunic and patched trousers. Another has straight black hair, a serious expression, and is dressed in a dark blue woolen shirt and worn leather vest. The third has curly red hair, a cheerful grin, and a loose white linen shirt with sleeves rolled up. The last has sandy blond hair, a thoughtful look, and wears a grey homespun jacket over a simple brown tunic. They stand with relaxed postures, some with arms crossed or hands in pockets. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Andrew Coffey's Horse ○ minor
None explicitly mentioned.
Attire: Bridle and saddle, appropriate for riding.
Loyal, patient (grazing at the end of the story).
Image Prompt & Upload
A young chestnut horse with a glossy brown coat and a flowing black mane and tail. It has large, gentle brown eyes and a calm, friendly expression. The horse is standing in a relaxed pose, its head slightly lowered, wearing a simple brown leather bridle with a plain silver bit. Its hooves are neatly trimmed and dark in color. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Locations
Unfamiliar Demesne
A part of the demesne Andrew Coffey couldn't recognize, filled with trees and bog-holes that shouldn't be there. Rain pelts down in clearings, and a cold March wind tears through the trees.
Mood: Disorienting, eerie, hostile, unsettling
Andrew Coffey gets lost and disoriented, leading him to the mysterious cabin.
Image Prompt & Upload
A dense, unfamiliar forest at dusk under a heavy overcast sky. Gnarled, twisted trees with sparse, rain-slicked bark stand in shallow, murky bog-holes that reflect the grey light. Cold March wind whips through the clearing, bending the dripping branches and causing sheets of rain to slant diagonally across the scene. The color palette is desaturated and somber, with deep greens, muddy browns, and ashen greys. The atmosphere is eerie and unsettling, with a sense of wrongness in the landscape. No border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Mysterious Cabin
A cabin with a brushwood fire blazing on the hearth and a welcoming chair. It appears out of nowhere in the unfamiliar demesne. Later, a cupboard from which Patrick Rooney emerges is noted.
Mood: Initially welcoming and comforting, quickly turns eerie and threatening
Andrew Coffey first encounters the spectral Patrick Rooney and is repeatedly summoned.
Image Prompt & Upload
At dusk, a solitary, ancient log cabin materializes in an unfamiliar, mist-shrouded forest. Its thatched roof is thick with moss, and a crooked stone chimney releases a thin curl of smoke. Through a small, glowing window, the intense orange light of a blazing brushwood fire on a stone hearth is visible, illuminating a single high-backed wooden chair. The forest floor is a carpet of deep green ferns and strange, softly glowing mushrooms. The atmosphere is hazy and mysterious, with twisted, silhouetted trees framing the scene under a deep indigo sky. The overall palette is cool blues and purples outside, contrasting with the warm, inviting amber glow from within. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Big Tree in the Wood
A large tree in a thick wood Andrew Coffey had never seen before. The night is black, but the rain has stopped and the wind has fallen. Four men carry a long box to this tree.
Mood: Suspenseful, dark, foreboding
Andrew Coffey witnesses the four men 'roasting' Patrick Rooney and is forced to tend the fire.
Image Prompt & Upload
A massive ancient tree dominates the center of a dense, shadowy forest at night. The air is still and heavy with moisture after recent rain, with droplets clinging to thick foliage and dark bark. Faint moonlight filters through a break in the heavy cloud cover, casting a silvery glow on wet leaves and moss-covered roots. The forest floor is a tapestry of deep greens, muddy browns, and glistening puddles. Surrounding trees are tall and closely packed, their branches forming a dense canopy that obscures most of the sky. The atmosphere is eerie and silent, with a profound sense of isolation and mystery. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Hill-side under Open Heavens
A hill-side under the open sky, where Andrew Coffey wakes up after his ordeal. His horse grazes nearby.
Mood: Peaceful, relief, bewildered
Andrew Coffey awakens, finding himself back in a familiar, normal setting, questioning the reality of his night's adventures.
Image Prompt & Upload
Golden sunrise over a vast, rolling hillside, the sky a gradient of soft peach and azure with wispy clouds catching the first light. Lush green grass dotted with tiny white and yellow wildflowers covers the gentle slopes. In the distance, a lone dark horse grazes peacefully near a gnarled, ancient oak tree. Long, soft shadows stretch across the landscape. The air feels clear and fresh, with a sense of profound quiet and open space. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
