on the sthroke of twelve. There’ll be little danger to-night, I’m thinkin’, but if ye should run against one of thim spalpeens trow the bit of comb at him; maybe he’ll take it to the banshee an’ maybe he won’t. At any rate, ’tis the best yez can do.”
“Don’t keep me waitin’ on the crass-roads, whatever else happens,” warned Darby.
“I’ll do me best endayvour,” says the King. “But be sure to racognise me whin I come; make no mistake, for ye’ll have to spake first,” he says.
They were walking along all this time, an’ now had come to Darby’s own stile. The lad could see the heads of the childher bunched up agin the windy-pane. The King sthopped, an’, laying a hand on Darby’s arrum, spoke up umpressive:
“If I come to the crass-roads as a cow with a rope about me horns ye’ll lade me,” he says. “If I come as a horse with a saddle on me back, yez’ll ride me,” says he. “But if I come as a pig with a rope tied to me lift hind leg, ye’ll dhrive me,” says the King.
“Oh, my! Oh, my! Oh, tare an’ ages!” says Darby.
“But,” says the King, wavin’ his hand aginst inthurruptions, “so that we’ll know aich other we’ll
