'Well, my father, though he was tired enough, took the spade, and began digging as they told him; for he thought to himself, “The boys is going to hide the pikes and the carbines before they go home.” Well, when he worked half an hour, he threw off his coat, and set to again; and at last he grew tired and sat down on the side of the big hole, and called out—
'“Isn't it big enough now, boys?”
'“No,” says the captain, “nor half.”
'So my father set to once more, and worked away with all his might; and they all stood by, talking and laughing with one another.
'“Will it do now?” says my father; “for sure enough I'm clean beat.”
'“Maybe it might,” says one of them; “lie down, and see if it's the length.”
'“Well, is it that it's for?” says my father; “faix, I never guessed it was a grave.” And so he took off his cap and lay down his full length in the hole.
'“That's all right,” says the others, and began with spades and shovels to cover him up. At first he laughed away as hearty as the rest; but when the mould grew heavy on him he began to screech out to let him up; and then his voice grew weaker and fainter, and they waited a little; then they worked harder, and then came a groan, and all was still; and they patted the sods over him and heaped them up. And then they took me and put me in the middle of them, and one called out, “March!” I thought I saw the green sod moving on the top of the grave as we walked away, and heard a voice half choking calling out, “There, boys, there!” and then a laugh. But sure I often hear the same still, when there's nobody near me, and I do be looking on the ground by myself.'
'Great God!' cried I, 'is this true?'
'True as you 're there,' replied he. 'I was ten years of age when it happened, and I never knew how time went since, nor how long it is ago; only it was in the year of the great troubles here, when the soldiers and the country-people never could be cruel enough to one another; and whatever one did to-day, the others would try to beat it out to-morrow. But it's truth every word of it; and the place is called “Billy the fool's grave” to this hour. I go there once a year to see it myself.'