HER. We will do it now; come over here. (_The children
stand together in a row._)

TEACHER. Now I will tell you who made the poem you are going to
say to me: There was a holy, saintly man in Ireland some years ago.
Aongus Ceile De was the name he had. There was no man in Ireland had
greater humility than he. He did not like the people to be giving honour
to him, or to be saying he was a great saint, or that he made fine
poems. It was because of his humility he stole away one night, and put a
disguise on himself; and he went like a poor man through the country,
working for his own living without anyone knowing him. He is gone away
out of knowledge now, without anyone at all knowing where he is. Maybe
he is feeding pigs or grinding meal now like any other poor person.

A CHILD. Grinding meal like old Cormacin here.

TEACHER. Exactly. But before he went away, it is many fine
sweet poems he made in the praise of God and the angels; and it was one
of those I was teaching you to-day.

A CHILD. What is the name you said he had?

TEACHER. Aongus Ceile De, the servant of God. They gave him
that name because he was so holy. Now, Felim, say the first two lines
you; and Art will say the two next lines; and Aodh the two lines after
that, and so on to the end.

FELIM.

Up in the kingdom of God, there are
Archangels for every single day.

ART.

And it is they certainly
That steer the entire week.

AODH.

The first day is holy;
Sunday belongs to God.

FERGUS.

Gabriel watches constantly
Every week over Monday.

CONALL.

Gabriel watches constantly--

TEACHER. That's not it, Conall; Fergus said that.

CONALL. It is to God Sunday belongs----

TEACHER. That's not it; that was said before. It is at Tuesday
we are now. Who is it has Tuesday? (_The little boy does not answer._)
Who is it has Tuesday? Don't be a fool, now.

CONALL (_putting the joint of his finger in his eye_). I don't
know.

TEACHER. Oh, my shame you are! Look now; go in the place
Fearall is, and he will go in your place. Now, Fearall.

FEARALL.

It is true that Tuesday is kept
By Michael in his full strength.

TEACHER. That's it. Now, Conall, say who has Monday.

CONALL. I can't.

TEACHER. Say the two lines before that and I will be satisfied.
Who has Monday?

CONALL (_crying_). I don't know.

TEACHER. Oh, aren't you the little amadan! I will never put
anything at all in your head. I will