"The jobber was glad to get off so cheap, an' from that day to this he was never seen at the fair o' Castletown.
"An' that's how Jimmy the Thrick doubled the grain of oats."
[WHEN DENIS TURNED TO THE TAY]
Adapted from the Irish of "An Seabhac" in "An Baile Seo 'Gainn-ne."
"Bad cess to it for tay," said Ned M'Grane, as he came into the forge, wiping his lips after his evening meal, in which the much-abused beverage in question had been, and always was, a potent factor. "The people were healthier an' hardier, an' the country was better off when the good wholesome food was goin' an' there was little talk o' tay. Now we can't do without it for more than half-a-day, bad cess to it!"
He took a piece of tobacco from his capacious vest pocket and proceeded to fill his pipe, while we eagerly and anxiously scanned his face in the hope of reading there indications that would lead us to expect a story, for we always knew by a close but seemingly careless scrutiny of Ned's face whether we might venture to suggest his drawing upon that wonderful store of yarns for the possession of which he was famous throughout the length and breadth of the three parishes.
"I wonder how was it people took to the tay at all at first," said Bartle Nolan, carelessly, as he fingered a couple of horse-shoe nails and looked thoughtfully away into the shadows; "you'd think they were wise enough in them times to know what was good for them."
It was a fine bait, that innocent remark of Bartle's, and we waited with drawn breath to see what its result would be on Ned.