fish or for himself. Yet he did know
that a great moment had arrived for the poet.

"So," said Finegas, "you did not eat it on me after all?" "Did I not
promise?" Fionn replied.

"And yet," his master continued, "I went away so that you might eat the
fish if you felt you had to."

"Why should I want another man's fish?" said proud Fionn.

"Because young people have strong desires. I thought you might have
tasted it, and then you would have eaten it on me."

"I did taste it by chance," Fionn laughed, "for while the fish was
roasting a great blister rose on its skin. I did not like the look of
that blister, and I pressed it down with my thumb. That burned my thumb,
so I popped it in my mouth to heal the smart. If your salmon tastes as
nice as my thumb did," he laughed, "it will taste very nice."

"What did you say your name was, dear heart?" the poet asked.

"I said my name was Deimne."

"Your name is not Deimne," said the mild man, "your name is Fionn."

"That is true," the boy answered, "but I do not know how you know it."

"Even if I have not eaten the Salmon of Knowledge I have some small
science of my own."

"It is very clever to know things as you know them," Fionn replied
wonderingly. "What more do you know of me, dear master?"

"I know that I did not tell you the truth," said the heavy-hearted man.

"What did you tell me instead of it?"

"I told you a lie."

"It is not a good thing to do," Fionn admitted. "What sort of a lie was
the lie, master?" "I told you that the Salmon of Knowledge was to be
caught by me, according to the prophecy."

"Yes."

"That was true indeed, and I have caught the fish. But I did not tell
you that the salmon was not to be eaten by me, although that also was in
the prophecy, and that omission was the lie."

"It is not a great lie," said Fionn soothingly.

"It must not become a greater one," the poet replied sternly.

"Who was the fish given to?" his companion wondered.

"It was given to you," Finegas answered. "It was given to Fionn, the son
of Uail, the son of Baiscne, and it will be given to him."

"You shall have a half of the fish," cried Fionn.

"I will not eat a piece of its skin that is as small as the point of its
smallest bone," said the resolute and trembling bard. "Let you now eat
up the fish, and I shall watch you and give praise to the gods of the
Underworld and of the Elements."

Fionn then ate the Salmon of Knowledge, and when it had disappeared