n, 'do as yer
towld an' don't argy, for that's a pint av mettyfisics,' says he, faix it
was a dale av deep larnin' he had, 'that's a pint av mettyfisics an' the
more ye argy on thim subjics, the less ye know,' says he, an' it's thrue
fur him. 'Besides, aven if it's a lie, it'll desave the Pooka, that's no
mettyfishian, an' it's my belafe that the end is good enough for the
manes,' says he, a-thinking av the white mare.

"So, afther supper, as the king was settin' afore the fire, an' had the
charm in his pocket, the sarvint come in and towld him about the widdy.

"'Begob,' says the king, like he was surprised, so as to desave the Pooka
complately, 'Ev that's thrue, I must go relave her at wanst.' So he riz
an' put on sojer boots, wid shpurs on 'em a fut acrost, an' tuk a long
whip in his hand, for fear, he said, the widdy 'ud have dogs, thin wint to
his chist an' tuk his owld stockin' an' got a suv'rin out av it,--Och,
'twas the shly wan he was, to do everything so well,--an' wint out wid his
right fut first, an' the shpurs a-rattlin' as he walked.

"He come acrost the yard, an' up the hill beyant yon an' round the corner,
but seen nothin' at all. Thin up the fut path round the Corkscrew an' met
niver a sowl but a dog that he cast a shtone at. But he didn't go out av
the road to the widdy's, for he was afeared that if he met the Pooka an'
he caught him in a lie, not bein' in the road to where he said he was
goin', it 'ud be all over wid him. So he walked up an' down bechuxt the
owld church below there an' the rath on the hill, an' jist as the clock
was shtrikin' fur twelve, he heard a horse in front av him, as he was
walkin' down, so he turned an' wint the other way, gettin' his charm
ready, an' the Pooka come up afther him.

"'The top o' the mornin' to yer Honor,' says the Pooka, as perlite as a
Frinchman, for he seen be his close that the king wasn't a common blaggard
like us, but was wan o' the rale quolity.

"'Me sarvice to ye,' says the king to him agin, as bowld as a ram, an'
whin the Pooka heard him shpake, he got perliter than iver, an' made a low
bow an' shcrape wid his fut, thin they wint on together an' fell into
discoorse.

"''Tis a black night for thravelin',' says the Pooka.

"'Indade it is,' says the king, 'it's not me that 'ud be out in it, if it
wasn't a case o' needcessity. I'm on an arriant av charity,' says he.

"'That's rale good o' ye,' says the Pooka to him, 'and if I may make bowld
to ax,