September 28th, 1899.'Honourable Lady Gregory,'I, Bridget Ruane, wish to inform you that there is in the Oratory in London one of the Fathers, a Saint. I do not know his name; but there was a young woman of the name of Meara; she got two falls and could get no cure. She went to London and found this holy man; and he sent her back to Gort, here to me, and I cured her. If your honourable Ladyship could make him out, it would be a wonderful thing, and a great happiness to many a weary heart, and the great God would have it in store for you and your son. May you enjoy many happy days together is the prayer of your humble servant,'Bridget Ruane.'
September 28th, 1899.
'Honourable Lady Gregory,
'I, Bridget Ruane, wish to inform you that there is in the Oratory in London one of the Fathers, a Saint. I do not know his name; but there was a young woman of the name of Meara; she got two falls and could get no cure. She went to London and found this holy man; and he sent her back to Gort, here to me, and I cured her. If your honourable Ladyship could make him out, it would be a wonderful thing, and a great happiness to many a weary heart, and the great God would have it in store for you and your son. May you enjoy many happy days together is the prayer of your humble servant,
'Bridget Ruane.'
This letter was brought to me one morning; and I went down to see the writer, a respectable-looking old woman, dressed in the red petticoat and blue cloak of the country-people. She repeated what she had said in her note, and added: 'Now if you could find out the name of that Saint through the press, he'd tell me his remedies; and between us, all theworld would be cured. For I can't do all cures, though there are a great many I can do. I cured Michael Miscail when the doctor couldn't do it, and a woman in Gort that was paralyzed, and her two sons that were stretched. For I can bring back the dead with some of the herbs our Lord was brought back with, theGarblusand theSlanlus. But there are some things I can't do. I can't help anyone that has got a stroke from the Queen or the Fool of the Forth.
'It was my brother got the knowledge of cures from a book that was thrown down before him on the road. What language was it written in? What language would it be but Irish? May be it was God gave it to him, and may be it was theother people. He was a fine strong man; and he weighed fifteen stone; and he went to England, and there he cured all the world, so that the doctors had no way of living. So one time he got in a ship to go to America; and the doctors had bad men engaged to shipwreck him out of the ship; he wasn't drowned, but he was broken to pieces on the rocks, and the book was lost along with him. But he taught me a good deal out of it. So I know all herbs, and I do a good many cures; and I have brought a good many children home to the world, and never lost one, or one of the women that bore them.'
I asked her to teach me some of her fragments of Druids' wisdom, the healing power of herbs. So she came another day, and brought some herbs, and sorted them out on a table, and said: 'This isDwareen(knapweed); and what you have to do with this, is to put it down with other herbs, and with a bit of threepenny sugar, and to boil it, and to drink it, for pains in the bones; and don't be afraid but it will cure you. Sure the Lord put it in the world for curing.
'And this isCorn-corn[tansy]; it s very good for the heart—boiled like the others.
'This isAthair-talav, the father of all herbs (wild camomile). This is very hard to pull; and when you go for it, you must have a black-handled knife. And whatever way the wind is when you begin to cut it, if it changes while you're cutting it, you'll lose your mind. And if you are paid for cutting it, you can do it when you like; but if not,theymightn't like it. I knew a woman was cutting at one time, and a voice, an enchanted voice, called out: "Don't cut that if you are not paid, or you'll be sorry." But if you put a bit of this with every other herb you drink, you'll live for ever. My grandmother used to put a bit with everything she took, and she lived to be over a hundred.
'And this isCamal buidhe(loose-strife), that will keep all bad things away.
'This isCuineal Muire(mullein), the blessed candle of our Lady.
'This is theFearaban(water-buttercup); and it's good for every bone of your body.
'This isDub-cosac(trichomanes), that's good for the heart; very good for a sore heart.
'Here are theSlanlus(plantain) and theGarblus(dandelion); and these would cure the wide world; and it was these brought our Lord from the Cross, after the ruffians that were with the Jews did all the harm to Him. And not one could be got to pierce His heart till a dark man came; and he said: "Give me the spear and I'll do it." And the blood that sprang out touched his eyes and they got their sight. And it was after that, His Mother and Mary and Joseph gathered these herbs and cured His wounds.
'These are the best of the herbs; but they are all good, and there isn't one among them but would cure seven diseases. I'm all the days of my life gathering them, and I know them all; but it isn't easy to make them out. Sunday afternoon is the best time to get them, and I was never interfered with. Seven Hail Marys I say when I'm gathering them; and I pray to our Lord, and to St. Joseph and St. Colman. And there may besomewatching me; but they never meddled with me at all.'
A neighbour whom I asked about Bridget Ruane and her brother said:—'Some people call her "Biddy Early" (after a famous witch-doctor). She has done a good many cures. Her brother wasawayfor a while, and it is from him she got her knowledge. I believe it's before sunrise she gathers the herbs; any way no one ever saw her gathering them. She has saved many a woman from being brought away when her child was born by whatever she does; and she told me herself that one night when she wasgoing to the lodge gate to attend the woman there, three magpies came before her and began roaring into her mouth to try and drive her back.
Another neighbour, who has herself some reputation as an herb-doctor, says:—'Monday is a good day for pulling herbs, or Tuesday—not Sunday: a Sunday cure is no cure. TheCosacis good for the heart. There was Mahon in Gort—one time his heart was wore to a silk thread, and it cured him. And theSlanugad(ribgrass) is very good: it will take away lumps. You must go down where it is growing on the scraws, and pull it with three pulls; and mind would the wind change when you are pulling it, or your head will be gone. Warm it on the tongs when you bring it in, and put it on the lump. TheLus-moris the only one that's good to bring back children that are "away."'
Another authority says:—'Dandelion is good for the heart; and when Father Quinn was curate here, he had it rooted up in all the fields about to drink it; and see what a fine man he is. The wild parsnip (Meacan-buidhe) is good for the gravel; and for heart-beat there's nothing so good as dandelion. There was a woman I knew used to boil it down; and she'd throw out what was left on the grass. And there was a fleet of turkeys about the house, and they used to be picking it up. At Christmas they killed one of them; and when it was cut open, they found a new heart growing in it with the dint of the dandelion.'
But an old man says there are no such healersnow as there were in his youth:—'The best herb-doctor I ever knew was Connolly up at Kilbecanty. He knew every herb that grew in the earth. It is said he was away with the fairies one time; and when I saw him he had the two thumbs turned in; and it was said it was the sign they left on him. I had a lump on the thigh one time, and my father went to him, and he gave him an herb for it; but he told him not to come into the house by the door the wind would be blowing in at. They thought it was the evil I had—that is given bythemby a touch; and that is why he said about the wind; for if it was the evil there would be a worm in it, and if it smelled the herb that was brought in at the door, it might change to another place. I don't know what the herb was; but I would have been dead if I had it on another hour—it burned so much—and I had to get the lump lanced after, for it wasn't the evil I had.
'Connolly cured many a one; Jack Hall, that fell into a pot of water they were after boiling potatoes in, and had the skin scalded off him, and that Dr. Lynch could do nothing for, he cured. He boiled down herbs with a bit of lard, and after that was rubbed in three times, he was well.
'And Cahill that was deaf, he cured with theRiv mar seala, that herb in the potatoes that milk comes out of.'
Farrell says:—'TheBainne bo blathan(primrose) is good for the headache, if you put the leaves of it on your head. But as for theLus-mor, it's best notto have anything to do with that.' For theLus-moris good to bring back children that are 'away,' and belongs to the class of herbs consecrated to the uses of magic, apart from any natural healing power. The Druids are said to have taken their knowledge of these properties from the magical teachers of the Chaldeans; but anyhow the belief in them lives on in Ireland and in other Celtic countries to this day.
A man from East Galway says: 'To bring anyone back from being with the fairies, you should get the leaves of theLus-mor, and give them to him to drink. And if he only got a little touch from them, and had some complaint in him at the same time, that makes him sick like, that will bring him back. But if he is altogether in the fairies, then it won't bring him back, for he'll know what it is, and he'll refuse to drink it.
'There was a man I know, Andy Hegarty, had a little chap—a littlesummachof four years—and one day Andy was away to sell a pig in the market at Mount Bellew, and the mother was away some place with the dinner for the men in the field; and the little chap was in the house with the grandmother, and he sitting by the fire. And he said to the grandmother: "Put down a skillet of potatoes for me, and an egg." And she said: "I will not; for what do you want with them? you're just after eating." And he said: "Take care but I'll throw you over the roof of that house." And then he said: "Andy"—that was his father—"is after selling the pig to a jobber, and the jobber has given it back to him again; and he'll be at no loss by that,for he'll get a half-a-crown more at the end." So when the grandmother heard that, she wouldn't stop in the house with him, but ran out—and he only four years old. When the mother came back, and was told about it, she went out and got some of the leaves of theLus-mor, and she brought them in and put them on the child; and he went away, and their own child came back again. They didn't see him going, or the other coming; but they knew it by him.'
And a Galway woman, who has been in England says: 'I was delicate one time myself, and I lost my walk; and one of the neighbours told my mother it wasn't myself that was there. But my mother said she'd soon find that out; for she'd tell me she was going to get a herb that would cure me; and if it was myself, I'd want it; but if it was another, I'd be against it. So she came in and said she to me: "I'm going to Dangan to look for theLus-mor, that will soon cure you." And from that day I gave her no peace till she'd go to Dangan and get it; so she knew I was all right. She told me all this afterwards.'
The man from East Galway says: 'The herbs they cure with, there's some that's natural, and you could pick them at all times of the day.'
'Sea-grass' is sometimes useful as a natural and sometimes as an occult cure. One who has tried it and other herbs, says: 'Indeed the porter did me good, and good that I'd hardly like to tell you, not to make a scandal. Did I drink too much of it? Not at all. But this long time I am feeling a wormin my side that is as big as an eel, and there's more of them in it than that. And I was told to put seagrass to it; and I put it to the side the other day; and whether it was that or the porter I don't know, but there's some of them gone out of it.
'Garblus—how did you hear of that? That is the herb for things that have to do with the fairies. And when you drink it for anything of that sort, if it doesn't cure you, it will kill you then and there. There was a fine young man I used to know, and he got his death on the head of a pig that came at himself and another man at the gate of Ramore, and that never left them, but was with them all the time, till they came to a stream of water. And when he got home, he took to his bed with a headache. And at last he was brought a drink of theGarblus, and no sooner did he drink it than he was dead. I remember him well.
'There is something in flax, for no priest would anoint you without a bit of tow. And if a woman that was carrying was to put a basket of green flax on her back, the child would go from her; and if a mare that was in foal had a load of flax on her, the foal would go the same way.'
And a neighbour of hers confirms this, and says: 'There's something in green flax, I know; for my mother often told me about one night she was spinning flax before she was married, and she was up late. And a man of the fairies came in—she had no right to be sitting up so late: they don't like that—and he told her it was time to go to bed; for he wanted tokill her, and he couldn't touch her while she was handling the flax. And every time he'd tell her to go to bed, she'd give him some answer, and she'd go on pulling a thread of the flax, or mending a broken one; for she was wise, and she knew that at the crowing of the cock he'd have to go. So at last the cock crowed, and she was safe, for the cock is blessed.'
Old Bridget Ruane will not do any more cures by charms or by simples, or 'bring children home to the world' any more. For she died last winter; and we may be sure that among the green herbs that cover her grave, there are some that are 'good for every bone in the body,' and that are 'very good for a sore heart.'
1900.
When poor Paul Ruttledge made his great effort to escape from the doorsteps of law and order—from the world, the flesh, and the newspaper—and fell among tinkers, I looked with more interest than before at the little camps that one sees every now and then by the roadside for a few days or weeks. And I wondered why our country people—who are so kind to one another, and to tramps and beggars, that they seem to live by the rule of an old woman in a Galway sweet-shop: 'Refuse not any, for one may be the Christ'—speak of a visit of the tinkers as of frost in spring or blight in harvest. I asked why they were shunned as other wayfarers are not, and I was told of their strange customs and of their unbelief.
'They come mostly from the County Mayo,' I am told; 'and, indeed, they have not much religion; but last year Father Prendergast offered to marry a man and woman of them for nothing. But after he had them married, they made him give them a shilling for a lodging.
'The people wouldn't like to let them into their house; for if you would let one man in, maybe twelvefamilies would follow them and take possession of the whole place.
'Some of them that do smiths' work are middling decent. They will sit there with their little pot and melt metal in it, and make things that belong to a plough; but the most of them have no trade but to be going to fairs and doing tricks, and having a table for getting money out of you with games. Indeed the most of them are no better than pickpockets—"newks" they are called. And they never go to Mass; and, as to marriage, some used to say they lepped the budget, but it's more likely they have no marriage at all.
'They never go in lodgings; but they'll tilt up the cart, and put a bit of guano cloth over it and a little kennel of straw in it. Or if a man is alone, he'll lay down on the sheltery side of a wall and sleep there. They are hardy with all the hardships they go through; they are the hardiest people in the world.
'And they make sport and fun sometimes. I used to see them dancing at Rathin gate; but no one would dance along with them; it is only among themselves they would have it. And they sing songs too—"The sweet boy of Milltown" I heard them singing.
'There was a sweep in Gort joined them. Charlie his name was. He went into Greely's shop one time, that had set up a little public-house, and bid him give him five pounds and he'd make his fortune. And he was afraid to refuse; and gave it to him, and off walked Charlie, and was never seen there again.
'He died after that in hospital. He slept out one night and the frost went through his body. There was another of them stole two of old Quin's geese at Ballylee one night, and sold them to him again next day. After he had them bought, Mrs. Quin came down and when she looked at them she knew them to be her own geese. "Give me back the money," she said. "I'd be a fool if I did," said he, and he went away.'
Another neighbour says: 'They often made their camp in the boreen near my house; but one of them never came into the house, and I never saw one of them at Mass. One very hard morning I passed by them as I was bringing in pigs to the fair of Gort. There they were, sleeping under an ass-cart, quite happy and satisfied. They fight at night and make friends again in the daytime; and they sell their wives to one another; I've seen that myself.'
And an old man says: 'I think the tinkers are not the same as the rest of us; I think they originated in themselves. They are very mirthful, and they have no control; but sometimes there will be a tyrant among them that is a good fighter, and they will obey him.
'They have no religion; and it might be true they don't believe in the devil—but what of that? Aren't there many on your side and our own that think there is no resurrection, but that we go straight to heaven at the minute of death?
'They never go into any house; and there's a greatmany of them wouldn't go in a house if they were asked. My father went one time from Ballylee to Limerick; and there was a tinker at that time the Government wanted to get information from; something about Bonaparte it was. And they offered him a good lodging with a feather-bed in it to sleep on; and he said if he slept one night on a feather-bed, he'd never be any good after; that it was more wholesome to sleep outside on a bed of rushes. They didn't get any information out of him after; though they offered him good reward, he wouldn't give it to them.
'They have no marriage at all; but their women might be ten times better than the rural women for all that, and true to their men. The women are very smart at cooking. You'll see them make a fire by the roadside with a bundle of straw and a bit of wood, and they'll put the pot down. What goes into the pot? Well, how would I know? but the men are very handy, and when they put their hand in the pot, believe me it doesn't go in empty.
'They used to be prone to coining at one time; but the law of transportation stopped that. And there's few of the police would like to grabble with them. I saw four of the police trying to take one the other day, and he bet them all; and it was a countryman got a hold of him in the end.'
And a woman whose house they have often made their camp near, says: 'They are bad, and we don't like them to be coming near us. There was a littlelad of them came running to the door one night, and he called to us to come; for there was a man killing his mother. But we drove him away and didn't go; for we knew her to be a bad woman.' And another woman says: 'If they have a religion, it's a wandering one; wandering like themselves.'
And a farmer living by the roadside says: 'A bad class they are, indeed, sleeping out under a little bit of cloth, and hardy for all that. Wild beasts they are, stealing turf from the banks.'
But an old man from Slieve Echtge takes a more kindly view of them. 'There are very nice men among them,' he says; 'and they are as hardy as goats or as Connemara sheep. They go about to fairs and deal in asses and in horses, and sometimes they are rich. There was one I knew, a sieve-maker—they are of the same class—and that married a tinker's daughter; they were in here two or three times. I told him I wondered they wouldn't settle down in one place; for if I knew the way to make money, I said, I'd make plenty—for they are said to coin money. But he said it made no difference if they had money; they couldn't stop in one place; they must be walking always and going through the whole country.'
And then we got to the reason of their wandering.
'It was a tinker put St. Patrick astray one time. For he was a slave in Ireland after he was brought out of France, and it would take a hundred pounds to buy his freedom. And he found a lump of gold or ofsilver in a field one day, where he was minding sheep; and he brought it to a tinker and asked the value of it. "It's nothing at all but a bit of solder," says the tinker. "Give it here to me." But St. Patrick brought it to a smith then, and he told him the value of it. And then St. Patrick put a curse on the tinkers that they might be for ever with every man's face against them, and their face against every man; and that they should get no rest for ever but to travel the world.
'And there are some say that when our Lord was on the cross there could be no tradesman found to drive the nails in His hands and His feet till a tinker was brought, and he did it; and that is why they have to walk the world; and I never met anyone that had seen a tinker's funeral.
'But they may believe some things. For there was a woman of them told me one time they were camping near the railway bridge that in the night-time she saw the whole wall beside her falling down and shattered; but in the morning it was standing as it did before. "And we'll get out of this place as fast as we can," she said.'
'They are a class of themselves,' says another man, 'and they have been there ever since the world began. I often heard it said that our Lord asked a tinker one time to make Him some vessel He wanted, and he refused Him. He went then to a smith, and he did what was wanted. And from that time the tinkers have been wandering on the roads; but theywouldn't have refused Him if they had known He was God. I never saw them at Mass; but I am sure they believe in God. It was here in Ireland they refused our Lord, the time He walked the whole world after the Crucifixion.'
'To be sure they are under a curse,' said another, 'like the Jews, to be wandering always; and they have some religion of their own, but it's a bad one. It's likely St. Patrick put the curse on them; for a fleet of children of tinkers went after him one time, mocking at him, and he turned one of them into a pillar of stone.'
And that is their story as I have heard it so far.
Last June I had a few free days, and I chose to spend them among the imaginative class, the holders of the traditions of Ireland, country people in thatched houses, workers in fields and bogs.
I was looking for legends of those shadow-heroes, Finn and his men, to help me in writing their story; and I heard many tales and long poems about fair-haired Finn, who 'had all the wisdom of a little child'; and Conan of the sharp tongue, who was 'some way cross in himself,' and who had a briar on his shield; and their adventures beyond sea, and their hunting after deer that were 'as joyful as the leaves of a tree in summer time.' But some of the people repeated verses by Raftery and Callinan and Sweeny, and some told stories of the kingdom of the Sidhe.
I spent three happy afternoons in a workhouse in my own county, but not in my own parish; and after we had spoken of the Fianna for a while, the old men began to tell me these long, rambling stories I am about to repeat.
We sat in a gravelled yard, where only the leavesof a few young sycamores told that spring had come. Some of the old men sat on a bench against the whitewashed wall of a shed, in their rough frieze clothes and round grey caps, and others stood round, pressing closer and closer as their interest in the story grew.
Some of the stories were new to me; some I had heard in other versions; but all—even those like the 'Taming of the Shrew,' which have, one must believe, been brought in from other countries—have taken an Irish colouring. I began to listen, half interested and half impatient; for I had never cared much for this particular kind of tale.
But as I listened, I was moved by the strange contrast between the poverty of the tellers and the splendours of the tales. These men who had failed in life, and were old and withered, or sickly, or crippled, had not laid up dreams of good houses and fields and sheep and cattle; for they had never possessed enough to think of the possession of more as a possibility. It seemed as if their lives had been so poor and rigid in circumstance that they did not fix their minds, as more prosperous people might do, on thoughts of customary pleasure. The stories that they love are of quite visionary things; of swans that turn into kings' daughters, and of castles with crowns over the doors, and lovers' flights on the backs of eagles, and music-loving water-witches, and journeys to the other world, and sleeps that last for seven hundred years.
I think it has always been to such poor people, with little of wealth or comfort to keep their thoughts bound to the things about them, that dreams and visions have been given. It is from a deep narrow well the stars can be seen at noonday; it was one left on a bare rocky island who saw the pearl gates and the golden streets that lead to the Tree of Life.
One of the old men told me a story in Irish—another translating it as he went on; for my ear was not practised enough to follow it well:—'There was a farmer one time had one son only, and the son died, and the father wouldn't go to the funeral, where he had had some dispute with him.
'And, after a while, a neighbour died, and he went to his funeral. And a while after that he was in the churchyard looking at the grave. And he took up a skull that was lying there—one of four—and he said: "It's a handsome man you may have been when you were young; and I'd like to know something about you," he said. And the skull spoke, and it is what it said: "I'll go spend to-morrow night with you, if you'll come and spend another night with me." "I will do that," said the farmer.
'And on the way home he met with the priest, and he told him what had happened. "I would never believe that a skull spoke," said the priest. "Come to my house to-morrow night, and you'll hear him speak," said the farmer.
'So the next night they were sitting together in the house, and they had dinner set out on the table.And after a while they heard something come to the door; and the skull came in, and it got up on the table, and it ate all the dinner that was there; and after that it went out again. "Why didn't you speak to it?" said the farmer to the priest. "Why didn't you speak to it yourself?" said the priest. "What will it do to me at all when I go to see it to-morrow night?" said the farmer; "but I must hold to my promise when it came here first."
'So the next evening he set out for the churchyard, and he could see nothing at all in it. And then he went down three steps that were beside the church; and presently he was in a field, and it full of men fighting one against the other with spades and reaping-hooks. "Is it looking for a head you are?" they said; "it's gone into that field beyond."
'So he went on into the other field; and it was full of men and women, all of them fighting one against the other. "Are you looking for a head?" they said; "it's after going into that field beyond."
'So he went into the third field; and there he saw a big house, and he went into it. And he saw a fire on the hearth, and a lady in the room, and a serving-girl. And the lady was walking up and down the room; and whenever she would go near to the fire to warm herself, the serving-girl would put her away from it.
'Then they said: "If it's for a head you're looking, it's within in the room."
'So he went into the room; and the head was therebefore him, and it asked him would he have some dinner; and he said he would, and it brought him into a kitchen; and there were three women in it, and the head bade one of them to give the man his dinner; and what she put before him was a bit of brown bread and a jug of water, and he did not think it worth his while to eat that; and then the head bade the second woman to give him his dinner, and she gave him a worse dinner again; and then the third woman was told to give it to him, and she spread a nice table, and put the best of everything on it, and he ate and drank; and then he asked the head what was the meaning of all he saw.
'And the head said: "The men you saw in the first field used to be fighting when they were in life, because they had land near to one another, and they used to be for moving the merings, and now they have to be fighting with one another for ever and always. And the men and the women you saw, they were married people that used to be fighting with one another, and they must go on fighting for ever now. And the lady you saw in the house, when she was in life, she usedn't to let the serving-girl near to the fire when she would come in wet and cold, and would want to warm herself; and now the serving-girl is doing the same to her, and that will go on to the Day of Judgment.
'"And as to the three women in the kitchen," he said, "those were my own three wives. And when I asked the first wife for my dinner, she gave menothing but brown bread and a jug of water. And when I asked the second wife for my dinner, she gave me a worse dinner again. But the third wife when I asked her, set out a grand table, and a white cloth on it, and gave me the best of food and drink.
'"And as for yourself," he said, "the reason you were brought here is, that you wouldn't go to your son's funeral, because you had a falling out one day when you were ploughing the field together, but you went to a stranger's funeral. And go back now," he said, "to where your son was buried, and make your repentance there, and maybe you'll get forgiveness at the last. And how long is it since you left your home?" he said. "I left it on the afternoon of yesterday," said the farmer. "It is seven hundred years you are here," said the head. Isn't that a long time he was in it, and he thinking it was only a few hours?
'So he went back to where his own son was buried; and he knelt down there, and made his repentance, and asked forgiveness and his son's forgiveness. And at last a hand came up out of the grave and took his hand; and then he and the son went up to heaven together.'
Another old man says: 'There was a Protestant and a Catholic one time; and the Protestant said if the Catholic would come to his church one Sunday, he'd go to his the next.
'So the Catholic went first to the Protestantchurch for one day, and it seemed to him as if it was a week he was in it.
'And the next Sunday the Protestant went into the Catholic church; and there he stopped for a year and a day, and he thought it was only a few hours he was in it.
'And at the end of that time he died, and he went up before our Lord. And he had done some things that were not good in his life, and our Lord said: "I will give you as many years of heaven as there are penfuls of water in the sea, and hell at the end of that." "That is not enough of heaven," said the man. Then our Lord said: "I will give you as many years of heaven as there are grains in the sand, and hell after that." "That is not enough of heaven," said the man. Then our Lord said: "I will give you as many years of heaven as there are blades of grass on the earth, and hell after that." "That is not enough of heaven," said the man. "And I will ask you for this," he said; "give me a year of hell for all these things you have spoken of: the drops in the sea, and the blades of grass, and the grains of the sand, and give me heaven in the end."
'And when the Lord heard that, He said, "I will give you heaven first and last."
'That is how the Catholic had him saved.'
Another old man says: 'There was a king one time that had a daughter; and she went out one day in the garden, and there she saw a bird—a jackdaw it was—and she thought it very nice, and she followed it on. And at last it spoke to her, and it said: "Will you give me your promise to marry me at the end of a year and a day?" "I will not," she said; and she went into the house again.
'After that the king's younger daughter went out, and she saw the bird and followed it, and it asked her the same thing. And she gave her promise to marry it at the end of a year and a day.
'And at the end of that time a great coach and horses came up to the door of the king's house; and the jackdaw came in, and he took the edge of the young girl's dress in his beak to draw her out of the house. And she went away in the carriage with him, and they came to a sort of a castle, and went into it. And there was no one in it; but no sooner did they come in, than there was a table set out before them, with every sort of food and drink, and beautiful gold cups and everything grand. And when they had eaten enough, the bird said, "Don't be frightened at anything you may see; and whatever happens, don't say one word; for if you do, you will lose me for ever."
'And then some sort of people came in, and began hitting at the bird and attacking him, and he keeping out of their way. And at last they got to him, and began to knock feathers from him. And when the young girl saw that, she cried out, "Oh, they are destroying you, my poor jackdaw!" "Oh!" he said, "why did you say that? If you had not spoken," hesaid: "I would be all right; but now I must leave you for ever. And here is a ring I will leave with you," he said: "and whatever desire you have, you will get it when you rub the ring."
'He went away then, and there was no one left in the house but the young girl; and all was darkness around her. And she went up the stairs; and at last she saw a little sign of light through a hole in the roof; and she rubbed the ring, and she said: "I wish that hole to be made bigger." And so it was on the moment, and more light came in.
'And then she wished she could be up on the roof, and so she was. And from the roof she could see the sea, and there was a ship on it in the distance; and she said: "I wish I could be on the deck of that vessel." And there she was on the deck, and the sailors not knowing where did she come from. And she said to the captain: "Can you give me something to eat?" And he said: "That is what I cannot do, for the harness casks are empty, we are so long at sea; and we have not as much meat in them as would go on the point of a knife." So she rubbed the ring then; and there was a table before them, set out with every sort of food and drink, and they all had enough.
'And then they came to a strange country; and she said to the captain to leave her on land. And she went up to a big house, where some great man lived, and she asked for employment as a sewing-maid. And they said: "You may sew one of those dressesthat is for the master's daughter that is going to be married to-morrow. And mind you do it well," they said.
'So she brought away the dress to her room, and she wished it to be the best dress, and the best-sewed, that would be seen on the morrow. And when the morrow came, so it was.
'Then she went out into the garden, where there were beautiful flowers and trees; and she fastened a thread of silk from one tree to another, to make a swing-swong, and she began swinging on it. And the young lady that was going to be married, came down the steps into the garden, and she wanted to go on the swing-swong. And the other said she had best not go on it where she was not used to it, and she might get a fall. But she said she would; and the other warned her secondly not to go on it. But up she got, and the thread broke, and she fell and was killed on the spot.
'Then all the people came out; and when they saw her dead, they had a court-martial on the strange girl, and they were going to put her to death; but she told them how it all happened. And when the jury heard it, they said there was no blame on her, where she had given two warnings.
'That's a closure now.'
'And what happened her after that?'
'I don't know what happened her; they let her off that time anyhow.'
'And what became of the bird?'
'How would I know? Didn't I say that's the closure?'
Then a young man said: 'I'll tell you a folk-tale:—
'It was in the good old time when Ireland was paved with penny loaves and the houses thatched with pancakes; and there was a king had a son, and the mother died, and he married another wife; and she had three daughters, and their names were Catherine Snowflake, and Broad Bridget, and Mary Anne Bold-eyes, that had two eyes in the front of her head, and another eye in the back of her poll.
'And the stepmother got to be very wicked to the son then; and she used to be giving everything to the daughters; but he had nothing but hardship, and all they would give him to eat was stirabout.
'He was out on the fields one day with the cattle, and there was a little Black Bull there, and it said to him: "I know the way you are treated," it said, "and the sort of food they are giving you. And unscrew now my left horn," he said, "and take what you will find out of it."
'So the young man unscrewed the left horn; and the first thing he took out was a napkin, and he spread it out on the grass; and then he took out cups and plates, and every sort of food, and he sat down and ate and drank his fill. And then he put back the napkin and all into the horn again, and screwed it on.
'That was going on every day, and he used to bethrowing his stirabout away into the ash-bin; and the servants found it, and they told the queen that he was throwing away what they gave him, and getting fat all the same.
'The queen noticed then that he used to be going every day into the field with the cattle; and she bade her daughter, Catherine Snowflake, to go and to watch him there to see what would he be doing.
'But that day when he went up to the little Black Bull, it said: "Your step-sister will be coming to-day to watch you," he said: "and unscrew now my right horn, and take out a pin of slumber you will find under it, and when you see her coming, go and play with her for a bit, and then put the pin of slumber to her ear, and she will fall asleep." So he did as the Bull told him; and when he put the pin of slumber to Catherine Snowflake's ear, she fell into a deep sleep in the grass, and never woke till evening.
'The next day the queen sent Broad Bridget, that was a great big woman, to watch the step-brother; but the Bull warned him as before; and he put the pin of slumber to her ear, and she fell into a deep sleep, and saw nothing.
'The third day Mary Anne Bold-eyes was sent out, and the brother put her to sleep the same as he did the others. But if the two front eyes were shut, the eye at the back of her poll was open; and she saw all that happened, and she went back that evening and told her mother the way her step-brother got all he would want out of the Bull's horn.
'The queen sent out then and gathered all her fighting men together to kill the Bull. And they all surrounded the field where the Bull was; but there were two or three hundred more cattle in it; and the Bull was running here and there between them, the way they could not get near him. And at the end of the second day he made for a gap and broke through it, and came to where the queen was, and he took her on his horns and tossed her as high as her own castle. He called to Jack then; and Jack put a halter on him, and they rode away together where winds never blew and the cocks never crew, and the old boy himself never sounded his horn. And they overtook the wind that was before them, and the wind that was after them couldn't overtake them.
'They came then to a great wood, and the Black Bull said to Jack: "Get up, now, into the highest tree you can find, and stop there through the day, for I have to fight with the Red Bull that is coming against me. And unscrew my right horn," he said; "and take out the little bottle that is in it, and keep it with you; and if I am well at the end of the day," he said, "it will be white as it is now."
'The Red Bull came to meet him then, and his head was as big as another's body would be; and he and the little Black Bull went to fight together; and Jack stopped up in the tree.
'And in the evening he looked at the little bottle; and what was in it was as white as before. So he came down, and he found the Black Bull, and got upon his back again; and they went off the same as before.
'They came then to the wood where the White Bull was, and he came out to fight the Black; and all happened the same as the first day.
'And Jack came down from his tree and got on his back again; and they went on to another wood. And the Green Bull came to meet him this time; and Jack went up in a tree. And at evening he looked at the little bottle, and it was red up to the cork.
'He got down then, and went to look for the little Black Bull, and he found him lying on the ground at the point of death; and the Green Bull gave a great bellow, and made away and left him there.
'And the Black Bull said: "I am going from you now, Jack; but I won't go without leaving you something," he said. "When I am dead, cut three strips of hide off me from the nape of the neck to the root of the tail, and put them about your body; and they'll give you the strength of six hundred men."'
Jack had many adventures after this; he killed three giants, rescued a princess from a dragon, and married her. These were told with dramatic effect; and the other men, young and old, who had gathered round the teller, cried out at each new splendid adventure: 'Good boy, Peter; that's it; bring it out.' And the last words, telling how Jack and his Princess 'put on the kettle and made the tea,' were drowned in applause and laughter, and clapping of hands.
But I had already heard that part of the story, in almost the same words, in Gort Workhouse; and had given it to Mr. Yeats for his 'Celtic Twilight,' so I need not put it down here.
Then an old man said: 'There was a young man one time was out hunting; and as he was going home, he heard the cry of a child beside a sand-pit. And he got off his horse to look what was it; and it was a young little child was there, a girl. And he took her up on the horse and wrapped her up, and brought her home to his mother. And they reared her up, and she grew to be a beautiful young girl; and the young man thought the world and all of her.
'But he got some sickness and died. And the mother was fretting for him always; and she shut up his room and locked it, that no one could go in. And she did not like to be looking at the young girl, because of the son being so fond of her; and she looked for a way to get rid of her.
'So she sent her out on a message into a wood that had wild beasts in it, and she thought they would make an end of her. And the girl went astray there, and lay down and slept for the night. And the beasts came and lay down beside her, and did her no harm at all. And there she was found in the morning, asleep among them.
'Then the mother thought of another way to get rid of her; and she bade her to go to the son's grave and to spend the night there. So she went as shewas told; and she was crying on the grass. And then the young man came up out of it, and it is what he said: "My mother thought I would harm you if you came here, but I will not harm you; I will help you. And take these three gray hairs from my head," he said, "and bring them back with you. And for every one of them my mother will have to grant you a request. And it is what you will ask her, to open my room that she has locked up for a day and a night. And at the end of a year, you will ask the same thing of her, and again at the end of another year."
'So the girl went back, and she asked to have the door opened, and she went in and stopped there for a day and a night. And at the end of the year she did the same, and again at the end of the third year.
'And after a while the mother said one day: "I wonder what she wanted in that room, and what she was doing in it." And she opened the door, and there she saw a fire on the hearth, and the girl sitting one side of it, and a child in her lap, and the son sitting the other side, and two children in his lap. For she had brought him back from the grave.
'And the son said: "What is wanting to me now is someone that will go and spend seven years in hell for my sake, to save my soul." "I will do that for you," said the mother. "It would be no use you going," he said. "I will do it," said the girl.
'So he said she might go; and he gave a spoon that would give her drink, and a ring that would give her food, so long as she would keep them.
'So she went down to hell, and she stopped there seven years; and through all that time she got no rest, only on Sundays.
'And at the end of the seven years, she was going out, and she heard a voice saying: "Will you stop another seven years to save your father's soul?" "I will do that," she said. "Do not," they said; "for your father gave you no care, and did nothing for you." "No matter," she said; "I will give another seven years to save his soul."
'And at the end of the second seven years she was going out; and her mother, that had done nothing for her, asked her to stop another seven years for her soul; and she did that. And at the end of the twenty-one years, they gave her the three souls in a napkin, and she went out.
'And as she was going home, she met with an old man, and he said: "Give me what you have there." "Who are you?" "I am Almighty God," he said. "I will not give them to you," said the girl. And after a little time she met with another old man, and he said: "Give me what you have there." "Who are you?" she said. "I am Jesus Christ." "I will not give them to you;" and she went on. Then the third time she met with an old man, and he asked for what she had in the napkin. "Who are you?" she asked. "I am the King of Sunday." "Then I will give them to you," she said; "for in all the twenty-one years I went through, I got no rest at all but on the Sunday."
'She went home then; and at first they didn't know her, where she was so long away; and when the children came down to see her in the kitchen, they didn't know her.
'But when the man of the house knew she was in it, he went down and gave her a great welcome back to himself and the children again.'
Then another old man said: 'There was a king that used to make rules and to break rules, and that was very cunning; and he wanted to get a good wife for his son. So he sent him out one day to look for a girl that he would fancy, and he brought one in. And the old king showed her a whole lot of gold and of treasures; and he said: "What would you do if all this was yours?" "I would sit down and do nothing else but enjoy it," she said.
'So the king said to his son that she wouldn't suit, and that he should go look for another girl, rich or poor. So he brought in a poor girl; and the king showed her the treasure, and he said: "What would you do if all this belonged to you?" And she said: "Whenever I would take a sovereign out of it, I would try to put back two."
'So he said she would do, and that the son might marry her. But the girl said: "I will be well treated while you are in it; but some day you might be gone, and my husband mightn't treat me so well. And make him give me his promise now," she said, "that if ever he turns me out of the house, I maybring three ass-loads of whatever I myself will choose along with me." So he gave her his promise she might do that.
'Then the old king died; and the young one was, like himself, a law-maker and a law-breaker. And he thought a great deal of his own wisdom, and of the judgments he would give.
'Now, at that time there was a man had a mare that had a foal in a field; and in the field next it there was an oldgarran; and there was a little stream that made the mering between the two fields. And the foal took a habit of crossing over the stream to the other field where thegarranwas; and it got to be so friendly with him, and so fond of him, that at last it was hardly it would come back at all. And the man the other field belonged to laid a claim to it, where it was always in his ground.
'So the case was brought before the king; and he thought a long time, and at last he said to put the foal in a house that had two doors, one on each side, and to put thegarranoutside one door and the mare outside the other, and to see which would the foal follow. And they did that, and the foal followed thegarran, and it was given to the owner.
'And the man it was taken from was vexed; and he went to the queen, and he told the injustice that was done to him. And she bade him to get a fishing-rod, and to go fishing in the river; and when the king would go by, to turn and to be fishing on the dry land.
'So he did that; and when the king was coming by, he turned and began fishing on the dry land. And the king stopped and asked why was he doing that. And the answer he gave was: "I think it no more foolish to be fishing on dry land than to believe that a foal would belong to agarran."
'When the king heard that, he guessed it was his own wife had given the answer to the man; and he went back and asked was it true she had put the man up to do what he had done. "It is true," she said. "Then you may clear out of this," he said, "and go back to your own place; for I won't keep a wife in the house that will be upsetting my judgments." "I must go if you bid me to," she said; "but do you remember your promise to me, to bring away three ass-loads with me of whatever I would choose?" "You may do that," he said. So she got the three asses, and on the first she put her clothes and some money. And on the second she put her two children. And then she came back to her husband and stooped down before him. "Get up on my back," she said, "till I put you on the ass, for it is yourself I choose to bring along with me for my third load. So long as I have you and the children with me, what do I care where I go?" "If that is so," said the king, "you may as well bring in your things again and stop with me. And I will never drive you away again," he said.'
Another man said: 'There was a man in Ballinasloe Asylum that was not very mad—just a little mad—andhe used to be raking about the gate. And there was a clock over the gate; and one day the doctor was going out, and he took his watch out and looked up, and he said to himself, "That clock is not right." "If it was right, it wouldn't be in here," said the man that was raking.'
'I have a sorrowful story,' says another man. 'I am blind, and I hurt my hip. And I have a brother fighting for the Queen and for the King, and a son fighting against the Boers, and neither of them ever sent me anything.' (But this was received without much sympathy, and with what I imagine to represent derisive cheers.)
A very wild-looking man told 'on behalf of a poor man inside'—to get him a bit of tobacco—a long story about a farmer who worked hard himself, to give his sons time for schooling.
'One of them made money in the West Indies by teaching, and he came back; and his mother was in the house, and she didn't know him; and he asked might he stop the night. "Indeed, I can't give you leave to do that," she said; "for a travelling man stopped for a night not long ago; and when he went away in the morning, he brought with him the flannel bawneen and the pants of the man of the house, that were hanging on the hedge to dry. But stop here for a while," she said, "and rest yourself."
'Presently the father came in, and didn't know him; and when he heard what the wife had said, he wasvexed, and said: "A thousand men might come the road, and not one of them do what that travelling man did. And I am sorry, sir," he said, "that my wife gave you such a reason."
'Then the potatoes were ready, and they were put on a skip for the dinner; and they asked the gentleman to help himself; and they gave him a knife but it had but half a blade; and they said they were sorry to have no better a one to give him. But he peeled his potatoes with that.
'And then some one came in and asked would the young people come in and join a dance, for there was a piper in the next house. And the stranger asked to go with them. But at every dance-house there is a blackguard, and there was one there; and he began to mock at the strange gentleman. And one of his brothers that didn't know he was his brother, said to the blackguard: "It's a very mean thing of you to mock at a stranger." But he went on doing it.
'Then the stranger got up and went over to where his sister was, and slipped a letter into her apron that told who he was. And then he quenched the dip-candle over her, that was lighting the house, and he made for the man that mocked him, and gave him a blow that sent him into the hearth, and then he made away.
'And it was a long time before they could find the candle; and when it was lighted, the man was found dead on the hearth. And the sister read the letter;but she did not tell it was her own brother had come home.
'But after that he got a good place in the West Indies, and sent for them all there.'
Then an old man said: 'I was minding a man in the hospital one time, and he was lying quiet in the bed; and the priest came in to see him, Father Kearns. And all of a sudden he made one leap, and was out of the bed, and bade the priest to be off out of that. And the priest made for the door; and I stood in the way of the man till he got out; and then I got out myself, and shut the door. He was brought away to Ballinasloe Asylum after. But if it wasn't for me, Father Kearns wouldn't have got safe out.
'That's my story.'
The first old man said: 'There was a man one time went to the market to sell a cow; and he sold her, and he took a drop of drink after; and instead of going home, he went into a sort of a barn where there was straw stored, and he fell asleep there.
'And in the night some men came in, and he heard them talking. And they had a lot of silver plate with them, they were after stealing from some house in the town, and they were hiding it in the straw till they would come and bring it away again.
'And he said nothing, and kept quiet till morning; and then he went out; and the people in the town were talking of nothing else but the great robbery ofsilver plate in the night. And no one knew who had done it; and the man came forward, and told them where the silver plate was, and who the men were that stole it; and the things were found, and the men convicted. But he did not let on how he had come to know it, or that he had slept in the barn.
'So he got a great name; and when he went home, his landlord heard of it; and he sent for him, and he said: "I am missing things this good while, and the last thing I lost was a diamond ring. Tell me who was it stole that," he said. "I can't tell you," said the man. "Well," said the landlord, "I will lock you up in a room for three days; and if you can't tell me by the end of that time who stole the ring, I'll put you to death."
'So he was locked up; and in the evening the butler brought him in his supper. And when he saw evening was come, he said: "There's one of them," meaning there was one of the three days gone.
'But the butler went down stairs in a great fright; for he was one of the servants that had stolen the ring, and he said to the others: "He knew me, and he said, 'There's one of them.' And I won't go near him again," he said; "but let one of you go."
'So the next evening the cook went up with the supper, and when she came in, he said the same way as before: "There's two of them," meaning there was another day gone. And the cook went down like the butler had gone, making sure he knew that she had a share in the robbery.
'The next day the third of the servants—that was the housemaid—brought him his supper; and he gave a great sigh, and said: "There's the third of them." So she went down and told the others; and they agreed it was best to make a confession to him; and they went and told him of their robberies; and they brought him the diamond ring; and they asked him to try and screen them some way; so he said he would do his best for them, and he said: "I see a big turkey-gobbler out in the yard; and what you had best do is to open his mouth," he said, "and to force the ring down it."
'So they did that. And then the landlord came up and asked could he tell him where the thief was to be found. "Kill that turkey-gobbler in the yard," he said, "and see what can you find in him." So they killed the turkey-gobbler, and cut him open, and there they found the diamond ring.
'Then the landlord gave him great rewards, and everyone in the country heard of him.
'And a neighbouring gentleman that heard of him said to the landlord: "I'll make a bet with you that if you bring him to dinner at my house, he won't be able to tell what is under a cover on the table." So the landlord brought him; and when he was brought in, they asked him what was in the dish with the cover; and he thought he was done for, and he said: "The fox is caught at last." And what was under the cover but a fox! So whatever name he had before, he got a three times greater name now.
'But another gentleman made the same bet with the landlord; and when they came into the dinner, there was a dish with a cover, and the man had no notion what was under it; and he said: "Robin's done this time"—his own name being Robin. And what was there under the cover but a robin! So he got great rewards after that, and he settled down and lived happy ever after.'
Then a red-faced young man said: 'There was a young man one time, and his name was Stepney St. George, and his people said it was time for him to get married; and they brought twelve young ladies to stop in the house, the way he would make a choice among them. And he used to be talking with them and walking in the garden; and there was one of them he got to like better than the rest, and the others got jealous of her, and used to be picking at her. And when Stepney saw that, he brought her out one day into a field where there was a bull, and he covered with rings and bells of gold, and a golden door in his side. And he opened the door and bade her to go in there, where she would be safe from the other eleven women.
'So she went in and he shut the door; and the others did not know where was she gone, and they were looking for her in every place. And they came to where the bull was; and they began looking at him and touching him, and just by chance one of them touched a bell, and the door opened, and there wasthe young lady inside. And they took her out, and brought her into the house; and she was sitting on the window-seat looking out at the river. And they pushed her over, and she fell into the water and was swept away.
'As to Stepney St. George, he was looking for her everywhere, but he could not find her. And one day he saw a poor travelling woman trying to cross the river, and she fell into it. And he thought it might be that way his own young lady was lost.
'And that put it in his mind to build a bridge across the river, and he got all the men that could be got, and they set to work. And they had a good bit of it made before night. But in the night all they had made of it was swept away. And the next day they were building again, and they sat up to watch it that night. But all the same it was all gone before morning, and they did not see anyone near it.
'The third night, Stepney St. George himself sat up to watch. And at last he saw a great black eagle, and it came flying towards the bridge; and, when it saw him, it called out: "What are you doing building this bridge to be in my way? I swept it away the last two nights, and I'll sweep it away again now." "If you do, I'll get satisfaction from you," said Stepney. "You will have to find me for that," she said. "And my name is Mother Longfield, and my house is at the other end of the world." And with that she went away; and Stepney followed everywhere looking for her; and at last he came to a house, andan old witch came out, and she told him her name was Mother Longfield. "And I've got you here now in my power," she said, "and you will have to do all the work I will give you to do."
'So she brought him out then to a stable; and she gave him a fork, and bade him clear out all the dung and litter that was in it. So he began the work; but for every forkful he would throw out, two would come in its place, so that at last there was no room for him in the stable, and he had to go outside.
'A young girl came up to him then, and she asked what was the matter. And he told her all that had happened; and she said, "I will help you." So she took out a little fork, and she went into the stable; and it wasn't long before she had it sweet and clean, that you could eat your dinner off the floor.
'He went back then to the house, and the witch was at the door, and she asked how did he get on. "Very well," he said. "I have the whole stable cleaned out, sweet and clean." She looked very sharp at him then; and she said: "Take care did Lanka Pera help you?" But he let on not to hear her, and made no answer.
'The next day she gave him a hatchet that was as blunt as a blunt knife; and she told him there was a forest he should cut down before night, or she would make an end of him. So he went to the forest and began to cut; but as he cut, it grew thicker and thicker, and the trees that were saplings in the morning werelarge trees before afternoon. So when he saw there was no use going on, he stopped. And then he saw the young girl again, and she said: "I am come to help you." And she took out a small hatchet, and began to cut, and before long the whole forest was levelled down.
'He went back to the house whistling and singing; and he told the witch he had cut down the forest, and she asked did Lanka Pera help him. But he said she did not—for she had told him not to let on he had seen her at all.
'The third day the witch showed him a hill a good way off, and a wild horse on it; and she said what he had to do was to catch the horse, and if he did not do that, it was his last day to live.
'So he began hunting the horse, and trying to catch it; but he could never get near it at all. Then the girl came to him, and she said: "You will never be able to catch it without my help. And I will turn myself into a mare," she said; "and you can get on my back. But remember," she said, "not to put the spurs into me whatever may happen." She turned herself into a mare then, and he got on her back. And the old witch came out then and she called to Stepney: "Don't spare the spurs."
'They galloped off then after the wild horse, but they never could come up with it. And at last, in the heat of the race, Stepney forgot what the girl had said, and he pressed the spurs into the side of the mare till the blood came down.'
('Oh murder!' and a groan of pity from all the old men.)
'Then the mare fell, and the mare was gone; and it was the girl he saw before him, and her sides bleeding. And it is then he knew she was the young girl had been stolen from him at his own place after he shutting her up in the bull.
'She went then and called to the wild horse, and he came to her; and they both of them got up on him, and they went back to the witch's house. And when they got near it, the girl got up and turned herself into a mare again. And the witch came out to meet them, and she said: "I see you didn't spare the spur."
'And the witch said Stepney might have the girl if he could choose her out of thirteen. And he did that. And the witch wanted to keep her from him yet, but he wouldn't give her up; and he brought her to a house that was close by; and they made a plan to escape in the night; and they made the two horses ready to bring them away. And the girl made two cakes; and she left them with some of the servants, and she said: "The witch will be coming in to watch us for the night, and she will ask for a story; and stick a knife into one of the cakes when she asks that," she said.
'So they made off then by the back door; and the witch came to watch the house; and she said to the maid: "Tell me a story now while I'm waiting." So she stuck a knife in one of the cakes, and it beganto tell a story; and the witch sat there listening to it.
'And when it was done, she asked for another story; and the maid stuck a knife in another of the cakes, and it began to tell a story. And when that was done, the witch asked for another story, and the maid stuck a knife in the third cake, and it is what it said: "The two you think you are watching are off, and are on the way back to their own home."
'When the witch heard that, she took the shape of an eagle on her; and she flew out after them, and she came in sight of them. And they looked back, and saw her coming like a big black cloud in the air; and the girl said to Stepney: "Take the bit of wood you'll find in the horse's ear, and throw it behind you." And he did that, and a great forest grew up behind them; and it is hardly the eagle could fly over it.
'Then they saw her coming again; and the girl said: "Take the drop of water you will find in the horse's other ear, and throw it down behind you." And when he did that, there was a great sea behind them; and the eagle found it hard to pass it, but it did at last.
'And when she was coming up with them again, the girl took a bit of stone was in her own horse's ear, and threw it behind them. And a great mountain rose up, that kept back the eagle for a time. And then she took a brass ball out of the other ear, and she gave it to Stepney; and bade him to throw it at awhite mole that was on the eagle's breast. So he made a shot with it, and hit the eagle, and it fell dead there and then.
'Then the girl said to Stepney: "There is no danger now between us and home. But have a care," she said, "when you get home not to let a dog touch your face in any way, or you will forget me and all that has happened."
'So he said he would remember that. But when he got home and sat down in the house, his little lap-dog jumped up on him and licked his face. And on the moment he forgot all that had happened, and the girl he had brought home.
'And after a while he was going to be married to another lady, and all was ready for the wedding; and a poor-looking girl came to the door. And the servants bade her to go away, for the grand people in the house would not want her. "I think I have something would amuse them," she said. "I have a cock and a hen that can talk the same as living people."
'So when the company heard that, they sent for her; and she went up, and she put out the cock and the hen on the table, and she threw down a few grains of oats; and when the hen was going to pick at it, the cock drove her away. And the hen said then: "You should not do that, after the way I helped you, cleaning out the stable you were not able to clean by yourself." But Stepney took no notice of what she was saying.