"'O, quite ready,' says she; 'but it's a poor one we have to-day, only pratees and eggs,' says she; for you know, your honor, they didn't live then as we do now—they knew better than that.
"'Well, them same's good,' says he. 'Did you never hear the old saying, When all fruits fail, welkim haws!' for he'd always a pleasant joke or saying in his mouth. 'But what's this?' says he; 'Why, how came so many raw ones among them?'
"'O,' says she, looking hard at him, 'if you will stop here, you must take things as they come, agreeable and disagreeable, for that's the way they're going!'
"'By my trowel and hammer!' says the Gubbaun, to himself, 'if that's the case, its full time to be goin' ourselves likewise;' and when they were going to work, he told Boofun every word, for he never suspected. 'But never fear,' says he, 'we'll get out of this scrape, if they did their worst and their best, and if they were seventeen times wiser than they are, and if they had all the guards in his kingdom to watch me; but howld your tongue, and don't let on a word of what I've said.'
"Next morning, when the king was up, and in his room, where he transacted all his affairs, the Gubbaun came and sint up word that he would be glad to see his majesty about something that was wanted for the palace. Now the Gubbaun, sir, was always welcome; and it was only because the king had too good an opinion of him, that he was going to kill him. When he was admitted, 'Well,' says the king, (mighty grand,) 'is my palace finished, or what do you want with me?' says he.
"'Why, plaze your majesty's reverence,' says the Gubbaun, (for he was a fine spoken man,) 'your majesty's palace is not quite complately turned out of my hands yet,' says he, 'nor I can't exactly call it finished, nor let the people that's to come after me speak of the name of the Gubbaun Seare along with it, unless one thing is done, that should be done, if your majesty raylly wishes it to be perfect.'
"'Well, spake your wishes, and then, if I plaze, they shall be attinded to,' says the king.
"'Well, then, plaze your majesty, there is an instrument, and without it, your statues, and your images and pillars can't be polished nor complayted unless I get it, and that instrument is at home with me,' says he.
"'What may be the name of it?' says the king.
"'Why, we call it,' said the Gubbaun, (of course they spoke in Irish,) 'Khur enein khur, agus khaoun enein khaoun!' (and that, your honor, manes, the tricks upon tricks, and the twists upon twists;) 'no one in Ireland owns such an instrument but myself, or at any rate not half such a good one; and if your majesty plazes, I'll go home and get it.'