Catchin’ a glimpse of these sly sprites is rarer than findin’ a sober lad on St. Paddy’s. these wee devils tuck themselves away in darkened caves an’ mossy hollows. Blink, and ye’ll be left starin’ at nothin’ but the echo of their cackles. Snag one o’ these Lurkin’ Leprechauns, an’ watch yer wallet sprout green like shamrocks in the springtime.