“Oh mam! oh mam!” says he, “what for are you skelping my head?”
“To make you quit breaking my eggs, you unmannerly coley,” says she.
“Sure it’s doing you favour I am,” he replies. “I’d have you to know when I spill an egg on the ground a well-grown spring chicken leps out.”
“Quit raving,” says she.
“If you doubt my word,” he makes answer, “let you turn and look back at the chickens are flocking along.”
With that she turned her head, and the leprachaun slipped from her grasp. He made one spring from the basket into the hedge, and he vanished away from the place.
“The wee lad has fooled me entirely,” says she, “and my beautiful eggs are destroyed—but I am the finest woman he’s seen, and that is a good thing to know!”