Only the fairies know how to make it now.

And who wouldn't be drunk in the head of him to-night with the Good People dancing on the hills and the dead dancing with them." Adam frowned and shivered.
"You Irish," he said harshly, "are as morbid as you are poetic." "'Tis all a part of the night," cried Kenny gayly and poured himself some brandy.

"The druids," he remembered, "poured libations on the ground to propitiate the evil spirits and the spirits of the dead; but, Adam, I'm drinking to-night to Destiny! To Destiny," he added under his breath, "and the foreverness of her gift!" "What gift," demanded Adam Craig, "are you trying to clinch with a gift to yourself of my brandy ?" "The gift," said Kenny cryptically, "of--Life!" Well, he had spoken truth there.

Life was love and love was life and perhaps until now he'd known neither.
Still the old man stared at him in dazed and sullen envy.

His wild vitality seemed a barrier impossible to surmount.
"And it isn't just Samhain," said Kenny, setting down his glass.