Revel in the romance of Vermont’s Mad River Valley

Story about a leprechaun

March Story

The Luck of the Irish

I noticed him because of his outfit: green knickers with striped socks and black short boots, a matching green jacket over a white shirt. Sure, he had a beard like half of the men at my favorite bar in the Mad River Valley, but his whiskers connected via long sideburns, forming a U-shaped display of facial hair. It was a statement look, for sure. But, despite his colorful attire, I could tell something was wrong as he slumped over a pint of dark beer, elbows on the bar.

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