must give you a present,” said the bride to the Queen. “Here is a beautiful scarf which you are to wear as a girdle this evening.”
The Queen put the scarf round her waist.
“Tell me now,” said the bride to the Queen, “who was Ur’s father.”
“What father could he have but his own father, the King of Erin?”
“Tighten, scarf,” said the bride.
That moment the Queen thought that her head was in the sky and the lower half of her body down deep in the earth.
“Oh, my grief and my woe!” cried the Queen.
“Answer my question in truth, and the scarf will stop squeezing you. Who was Ur’s father?”
“The gardener,” said the Queen.
“Whose son is Arthur?”