"Andrew Coffey, Andrew Coffey, tell me a story."
"Is it a story you want?" said my grandfather as bold as may be, for he was just tired of being frightened. "Well if you can tell me the rights of this one, I'll be thankful."
And he told the tale of what had befallen him from first to last that night. The tale was long, and may be Andrew Coffey was weary. It's asleep he must have fallen, for when he awoke he lay on the hill-side under the open heavens, and his horse grazed at his side.