weapons were all ideas. They were deployed in poetry and plays, songs
and speeches. But among the skirmishers in this intellectual conflict,
there was also a monthly satirical magazine called the Lepracaun.

First published in 1905, it lasted 10 years, during which time it


Leprechaun, which somebody had sent him. But the nearest any scholars
have come to connecting him with the editorial production was his own
stated concerns at the possibility that a satirical poem in the
magazine, signed only by the name “Joyce”, would be mistaken for his
work.

Even by the standards of its time, the Lepracaun was no Charlie Hebdo.
Fitzpatrick’s satire was more gentle than savage, and after a 15-year
hiatus in which the Irish market had been without any rival to Punch,
it was also very popular.



Gentle as it might be, the Lepracaun was not afraid to take on big
targets on occasion. Among its apolitical satires, for example, was a
well-aimed shot at Guinness, after that brewing behemoth doubled
profits in a short period by forcing publicans not to stock rival