“Why,” said the Judge, “how old are you, Taig ?”
Says Taig, “When I was twenty-one years of age I got a shipload of razors, and yesterday I had the last of them worn to a stump shaving myself.”
“Well,” says the Judge, says he, “I’ve often heard tell of old men,” he says, “but anything as old as what you three are never was known since Methusalem’s cat died. The like of your ages,” he says, “I never heard tell of, and which of you is the oldest, that surely beats me to decide, and I’m in a quandary again. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” says the Judge, says he, “I’ll give the field to whichever of you minds [remembers] the longest.”
“Well, if that’s it,” says Conal, “it’s me gets the field, for I mind the time when if a man tramped on a cat he usen’t to give it a kick to console it.”
“Well, well, well,”says the Judge, “that must be a long mind entirely; and I’m afraid, Conal, you have the field.”
“Not so quick,” says Donal, says he, “for I mind the time when a woman wouldn’t speak an ill word of her best friend.”
“Well, well, well,” says the Judge, “your memory, Donal, must certainly be a very wonderful one, if you can mind that time. Taig,” says the Judge, says he, “I’m afraid your memory can’t compare with Conal’s and Donal’s.”
“Can’t it,” says Taig, says he. “Take care of that, for I mind the time when you wouldn’t find nine liars in a crowd of ten men.”
“Oh, Oh, Oh!” says theJudge, says he, “that memory of yours, Taig, must be a wonderful one.” Says he “Such memories as you three men have were never known before, and which of you has the greatest memory it beats me to say. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do now,” says he; “I’ll give the field to whichever of you has the keenest sight.”
“Then,” says Conal, says he, “it’s me gets the field; because,” says he, “if there was a fly perched on the top of yon mountain, ten miles away, I could tell you every time he blinked.”