he wasn't, an' was a mighty dape man entirely. Now to him wint the
princess an' axed him phat to do, for she didn't care a traneen for the
king, but 'ud give the two eyes out av her head to get the dimunds. The
inchanter heard phat she had to say an' then towld her, 'Now, my dear, you
marry the owld felly, an' have no fear, fur av he daars to touch a hair av
yer goolden locks, I'll take care av you an' av him too.'

"So he gev her a charm that she was to say whin she wanted him to come an'
another wan to repate whin she was in mortial danger an' towld her fur to
go an' get marr'ed an' get the dimunds as quick as she cud. An' that she
did, an' at foorst the king was mightily plazed at gettin' her, bekase she
was hard to get, an' give her the dimunds an' all she wanted, so she got
on very well an' tuk care av the panthry an' helped the other wives about
the coort.

"Wan day the king got up out av the goolden bed he shlept an, wid a
terrible sulk an him, an' in a state av mind entirely, for the wind was in
the aiste an' he had the roomytisms in his back. So he cursed an' shwore
like a Turk an' whin the waither axed him to come to his brekquest, he
kicked him into the yard av the coort, an' wint in widout him an' set down
be the table. So wan av the quanes brought him his bowl av stirabout an'
thin he found fault wid it. 'It's burned,' say he, an' threw it at her.
Then Quane Peggy Joyce, that hadn't seen the timper that was an him, come
in from the panthry wid a shmile an her face an' a big noggin o' milk in
her hand. 'Good morrow to ye,' she says to him, but the owld vagabone
didn't spake a word. 'Good morrow,' she says to him agin, an' thin he
broke out wid a fury.

[Illustration: "Howld yer pace, ye palaverin' shtrap"]

"'Howld yer pace, ye palaverin' shtrap. D' ye think I'm to be deefened wid
yer tongue? Set the noggin an the table an' be walkin' aff wid yerself or
I'll make ye sorry ye come,' says he.

"It was the first time he iver spake like that to her, an' the Irish blood
ov her riz, an' in a minnit she was as mad as a gandher and as bowld as a
lion.

"'Don't you daar to spake that-a-way to me, Sorr,' she says to him. 'I'll
have ye know I won't take a word av yer impidince. Me fathers wore crowns
ages afore yer bogthrottin' grandfather come to this island, an' ivery wan
knows he was the first av his dirthy thribe that had shoes an his feet.'
An' she walked strait up to him an' folded her arrums an'