ell, my dear, it was a beautiful sight to see the King standin’ with his mouth open, lookin’ at his poor ould goose flyin’ as light as a lark, and betther nor ever she was; and when she lit at his fut he patted her an the head, and ‘ma vourneen,’ says he, ‘but you are the darlint o’ the world.’
“‘And what do you say to me,’ says Saint Kavin, ‘for makin’ her the like?’
“‘By gor,’ says the King, ‘I say nothin’ bates the art o’ men, ‘barrin’ the bees.’
“‘And do you say no more nor that?’ says Saint Kavin.
“‘And that I’m behoulden to you,’ says the King.
“‘But will you gi’ me all the ground the goose flewn over?’ says Saint Kavin.
“‘I will,’ says King O’Toole, ‘and you’re welkim to it,’ says he, ‘though it’s the last acre I have to give.’
“‘But you’ll keep your word thrue?’ says the saint.
“‘As thrue as the sun,’ says the King.