He tied a rope on the man. He put him behind the beast. He went through the big town with him. He did not go far till he came to the house of the tailor. When the tailor’s wife saw him she gave a roar of lamentation out of her. Jack caught hold of the scissors and cut the tip of his finger. The king came in. He said she was caught. The tailor (i.e., Jack) looked round. “What ails you?” said Jack.
“It is your wife who has lost the man and is crying there.”
“It was I cut my finger,” said Jack, “and she thought I was killed, and that’s what she was crying for. You may go off with yourself. There’s nothing for you to get here.”
The king went away. He was up and he was down. If he were to be walking till now he wouldn’t get one to go crying. He had nothing for it but to go home. The tailor’s wife and Jack were married then.
THE SERVANT[10] OF POVERTY.
Narrator, P. Minahan, Malinmore, Glencolumkille, co. Donegal.