"Foolish boy!" said the gentleman; "stop here and live in a palace."
"I'd rather live in my mother's cabin."
"Here you can walk through gardens loaded with fruit and flowers."
"I'd rather," said Shemus, "be cutting heath on the mountain."
"Here you can eat and drink of the best."
"Since I've got my cow, I can have milk once more with the praties."
"Oh!" cried the ladies, gathering round him, "sure you wouldn't take away the cow that gives us milk for our tea?"
"Oh!" said Shemus, "my mother wants milk as bad as anyone, and she must have it; so there is no use in your palaver—I must have my cow."
At this they all gathered about him and offered him bushels of gould, but he wouldn't have anything but his cow. Seeing him as obstinate as a mule, they began to thump and beat him; but still he held fast by the horns, till at length a great blast of wind blew him out of the place, and in a moment he found himself and the cow standing on the side of the lake, the water of which looked as if it hadn't been disturbed since Adam was a boy—and that's a long time since.
Well, Shemus-a-sneidh drove home his cow, and right glad his mother was to see her; but the moment she said "God bless the beast," she sunk down like the breesha [50] of a turf rick. That was the end of Shemus-a-sneidh's dun cow.