he gorge below the city, when, "Millia, murther, there wor
more than a hundherd t'ousand little men in grane jackets bringin' shtones
an' airth an' buildin' a wall acrass the glen. Begob, I go bail but he was
the skairt man when he seen phat they done, an' run home wid all the legs
he had an' got his owld woman an' the childher. When she axed him phat he
was afther, he towld her to howld her whisht or he'd pull the tongue out
av her an' to come along an' not spake a word. So they got to the top o'
the hill an' then they seen the wathers swapin' an the city an' niver a
sowl was there left o' thim that wor in it. So the good people had their
rayvinge, an' the like o' that makes men careful wid raths, not to
displaze their betthers, for there's no sayin' phat they'll do."

The Upper Killarney lake was created by the fairy queen of Kerry to punish
her lover, the young Prince O'Donohue. She was greatly fascinated by him,
and, for a time, he was as devoted to her as woman's heart could wish. But
things changed, for, in the language of the boatman, who told the legend,
"whin a woman loves a man, she's satisfied wid wan, but whin a man loves a
woman, belike he's not contint wid twinty av her, an' so was it wid
O'Donohue." No doubt, however, he loved the fairy queen as long as he
could, but in time tiring of her, "he concluded to marry a foine lady, and
when the quane rayproached him wid forgittin' her, at first he said it
wasn't so, an' whin she proved it an him, faith he'd not a word left in
his jaw. So afther a dale o' blasthogue bechuxt thim, he got as mad as
Paddy Monagan's dog when they cut his tail aff, an' towld her he wanted no
more av her, an' she towld him agin for to go an' marry his red-headed
gurrul, 'but mark ye,' says she to him, 'ye shall niver resave her into
yer cassel.' No more did he, for the night o' the weddin', while they were
all dhrinkin' till they were ready to burst, in comes the waither an'
says, 'Here's the wather,' says he. 'Wather,' says O'Donohue, 'we want no
wather to-night. Dhrink away.' 'But the wather's risin',' says the
waither. 'Arrah, ye Bladdherang,' says O'Donohue, 'phat d' ye mane be
inthrudin' an agrayble frinds an such an outspishus occasion wid yer
presince? Be aff, or be the powdhers o' war I'll wather ye,' says he,
risin' up for to shlay the waither. But wan av his gintlemin whuspered the
thruth in his year an' towld him to run. So he did an' got away just in
time, for the cassel was