With a jacket that would place this book among those of the Thorne Smith genre the bookseller is going to miss out on that rather limited market that might possibly find this story of the dark ages in Ireland when everyone (?) believed in witches and warlocks and possession by evil spirits. The abbot who expels poor lay brother Fursey because of his spirit companions sums it up:- ""In Ireland anything may happen to anyone anywhere and at any time, and it usually does"". Well, it does in this story, as Fursey quite innocently inherits the mantle of a witch, rides a broomstick, learns that his magic can help as well as harm him, and discusses events quite plausibly with his ""familiar"", a large sad-eyed dog. Fantasy, with a few touches of satire directed against the puritanical ecclesiastics, this has little of general appeal to the American market.