oured and of many hues, for in those days men delighted in splendid
colours.

When the captains came together Finn said, "I have slain Midna." "Where
is his head?" they asked, not because they disbelieved him, but because
the heads of men slain in battle were always brought away for trophies.
"Come and see," answered Finn. Conn and his only son and Gaul mac Morna
followed the young hero into the Teck-Midcuarta, where the spear-long
waxen candles were still burning, and when they saw the head of Midna
impaled there at the end of the hall, the head of the man whom they
believed to be immortal and not to be wounded or conquered, they were
filled with great joy, and praised their deliverer and paid him many
compliments.

"Who art thou, O brave youth?" said Conn. "Surely thou art the son of
some great king or champion, for heroic feats like thine are not
performed by the sons of inconsiderable and unknown men."

Then Finn flung back his cloak of wild boars' skins, and holding his
father's treasure-bag in his hand before them all, cried in a loud
voice:

"I am Finn, the son of Cool, the son of Trenmor, the son of Basna; I am
he whom the sons of Morna have been seeking to destroy from the time
that I was born; and here to-night, O King of the Kings of Erin, I claim
the fulfilment of thy promise, and the restoration of my inheritance,
which is the Fian leadership of Fail." Thereupon Gaul mac Morna put his
right hand into Finn's, and became his man. Then his brothers and his
sons, and the sons of his brothers, did so in succession, and after that
all the chief men of the Fians did the same, and that night Finn was
solemnly and surely installed in the Fian leadership of Erin, and put in
possession of all the woods and forests and waste places, and all the
hills and mountains and promontories, and all the streams and rivers of
Erin, and the harbours and estuaries and the harbour-dues of the
merchants, and all ships and boats and galleys with their mariners, and
all that pertained of old time to the Fian leadership of Fail.

STANDISH JAMES O'GRADY.

The Three Crowns

(_Told in the Wexford Peasant Dialect._)

There was once a king, some place or other, and he had three daughters.
The two eldest were very proud and uncharitable, but the youngest was as
good as they were bad. Well, three princes came to court them, and two
of them were the _moral_ of the two eldest ladies, and one was just as
lovable as the youngest.