"By Jabers," says the king, "I say nothing beats the art o' man, barring the bees."
"And do you say no more nor that?" says Saint Kavin.
"And that I'm beholden to you," says the king.
"But will you gi'e me all the ground the goose flew over?" says Saint Kavin.
"I will," says King O'Toole, "and you're welcome to it," says he, "though it's the last acre I have to give."
"But you'll keep your word true," says the saint.
"As true as the sun," says the king.
"It's well for you, King O'Toole, that you said that word," says he; "for if you didn't say that word, the divil the bit o' your goose would ever fly agin."
When the king was as good as his word, Saint Kavin was pleased with him, and then it was that he made himself known to the king. "And," says he, "King O'Toole, you're a decent man, for I only came here to try you. You don't know me," says he, "because I'm disguised."
"Musha! then," says the king, "who are you?"