“‘Indeed it is that,’ ses he. ‘And a night to be appreciated and enjoyed by ghosts, fairies, goblins and hobgoblins, gnomes and elves, owls and barroway-bats, and all the strange creatures of the earth, that does be scared to venture out in the broad daylight, as well as man himself.’
“‘There’s no doubt whatever about what you say,’ ses I. ‘And a fine night for any one who likes to walk to the top of a mountain to see the moon rising, the stars twinkling, or for those who like to hear the soft wind blowing through the tall rushes in the bogs, and making music, the like of which would inspire a poet to write verses and have them printed in a book, for women to read and talk about, and hold disputatious arguments on modern poetry,’ ses I.
“And so we walked and talked until we came to the great Cliff of Banba, that overlooks the ocean on the southwest coast. And as we sat down to rest our weary limbs, he looked from the sky to a high pinnacle of rock, and ses: ‘A beautiful sight is the Cliff of Banba when viewed from the ocean beyond, in a small boat, a sloop, or a four-masted ship. But the most beautiful of all sights is to see the White Horse of Banba himself.’
“‘I never heard tell of him,’ ses I.
“‘Why, you must be a queer man, not to have heard tell of the White Horse of Banba. Now,’ ses he, as he crossed his legs, and put his hand under his jaw, ‘fill your pipe,’ ses he, ‘and smoke, and smoke, and smoke until you will drive cold fear from your heart. For the story I am going to tell you this blessed night may turn every hair on your head as white as the drifting snow, and every tooth in your head may chatter, and rattle and fall out on the ground.’
“‘Oh,’ ses I, ‘’twould take more than the mere telling of a story, no matter how long or how short, or a hundred stories about the living or the dead to scare or frighten or disturb me in any way, and I a married man for more years than you could count on your own fingers and toes, and herself as stubborn and as contrary as the first day she made up her mind to marry me. So ’tis thinking I am that I will be neither white, nor grey, nor sallow, nor toothless, nor bald maybe, after I have heard the story of the White Horse of Banba; or the Black Horse of Carrigmore, and he that took Shauneen the Cobbler away on his back on a dark and windy night and drowned him in the Lough at Cork, because he was cursed by the widow Maloney for spoiling the heel of her shoe.’
“‘God forgive her for putting a curse on any poor man,’ ses he.
“‘Amen,’ ses I.
“‘Well,’ ses he, ‘if you think that you will be neither white, nor grey, nor one way nor another but the way you are at this present moment, I wouldn’t be boasting, if I were you, until the story is told. Because once it strikes your ears, you can never keep it out of your mind, whether you be sailing over the seas in a full-rigged clipper, or walking the lonely roads at home, or in foreign parts. ‘Twill be with you when you wake up in the morning, and when you are going to bed at night, and even when you are asleep and dreaming inself.’
“‘If ’tis such a wonderful and astonishing story as all that, why don’t you write it down, and have it printed in a book?’ ses I.