t the divil when
he'd come. So he went from thim an' be takin' turns at watchin' an'
workin', they finished the church.

"In coorse o' time, Saint Kevin wanted another church an' begun to build
it too, for he said, 'Begob, I'll have that church done be fall if every
grain o' sand in Glendalough becomes a divil an' rises up fur to purvint
it,' an' so he did, Glory be to God, but at first was bothered to git the
money fur to raise the walls. Well, wan day as he was in the bother, he
was walkin' an the hills, an' he heard the clattherin' av a horse's feet
behind him an the road, an' afore he cud turn round, up comes the most
illigant black horse ye ever seen, an' a tall gintleman a ridin' av him,
wid all the look av a soger, a broad hat on the head av him, an' a silk
jacket wid goold trimmin's, an' shtripes on his britches, an' gloves to
his elbows, an' soord an' shpurs a-jinglin', the same as he was a rich
lord.

"'God save ye,' says the saint.

"'God save ye kindly,' says the gintleman, an' they walked an together an'
fell into convarsin'.

"'I'm towld ye're afther buildin' another church,' says the gintleman.

"'It's thrue for ye,' says the saint, 'but it's meself that's bothered
about that same, for I've no money,' says he.

"'That's too bad,' says the gintleman; 'have ye axed for help?' says he.

"'Faix, indade I have,' says the saint, 'but the times is hard, an' the
money goin' out o' the counthry to thim blaggard landlords in England,'
says he.

"'It's right ye are,' says the gintleman, 'but I've hopes o' betther times
when the tinants get the land in their own hands,' says he. 'I'm goin' to
right thim avils. I'm the new Lord Liftinant,' says he, 'an' able to help
ye an the job, undher a proper undhershtandin',' says he.

"At foorst Saint Kevin was that surprised that he'd like to dhrop an the
road, fur he hadn't heard av the 'pintmint av a new Lord Liftinant, but he
raizoned wid himself that it cud aisily be done widout his knowin' av it,
an' so he thought he'd a shtrake av luck in seein' av him.

"'God be good to yer Lordship,' says he, 'an' make yer bed in the heavens,
an' it's thankful I'd be fur any shmall favors ye plaze to give, fur it's
very poor we are.'

"'An' phat 'ud ye say to a prisint av tin thousand pound,' says the
gintleman, 'purvided ye spind it an the church ye have an' not in buildin'
a new wan,' says the gintleman, an' wid that word, Saint Kevin knew the
ould inimy, an' shtarted at