counting?"

"He is no King's Son, but a gilly--Gilly of the Goat-skin he is called.
He is counting the horns that are in two pits outside. When the horns
are counted I will know the number of my half-years."

"How is that, old mother?"

"My father used to kill an ox every year on my birthday, and after my
father's death, my servants, one after the other, used to kill an ox for
me. The horns of the oxen were put into two pits, one on the right-hand
side of the house and one on the left-hand side. If one knew the number
of the horns one would know the number of, my half-years, for every
pair of horns goes to make a year of my life. Gilly of the Goatskin is
counting the horns for me now, and when he finishes counting them I will
let him tell the Unique Tale."

"But you must let me listen to the tale too, Old Woman of Beare."

"If you count the horns in one pit I will let you listen to the tale."

"Then I will count the horns in one pit."

"Go outside then and count them."

The King of Ireland's Son went outside. He found on the right-hand side
of the house a deep quarry-pit. Round the edge of it were horns of all
kinds, black horns and white horns, straight horns and crooked horns.
And below in the pit he saw a young man digging for horns that were sunk
in the ground. He had on a jacket made of the skin of a goat.

"Who are you?" said the young man in the quarry-pit. "I am the King of
Ireland's Son. And who may you be?"

"Who I am I don't know," said the young man in the goatskin, "but they
call me Gilly of the Goatskin. What have you come here for?"

"To get knowledge of the Unique Tale."

"And it was to tell the same Unique Tale that I came here myself. Why do
you want to know the Unique Tale?"

"That would make a long story. Why do you want to tell it?"

"That would make a longer story. There is a quarry-pit at the left-hand
side of the house filled with horns and it must be your task to count
them."

"I will count them," said the King of Ireland's Son. "But you will be
finished before me. Do not tell the Old Woman of Beare the Tale until we
both sit down together."

"If that suits you it will suit me," said Gilly of the Goatskin, and he
began to dig again.

The King of Ireland's Son went to the left-hand side of the house.
He found the quarry-pit and went into it to count the horns that were
there--black horns and white horns, straight horns and crooked horns.
And now, while the King of Ireland's