After which I said, "Now, Murtagh, tit for tat; ye will be telling me one of the old stories of Finn-ma-Coul." "Och, Shorsha.

I haven't heart enough," said Murtagh.
"Thank you for your tale, but it makes me weep; it brings to mind Dungarvon times of old--I mean the times we were at school together." "Cheer up, man," said I, "and let's have the story, and let it be about Ma-Coul and the salmon, and his thumb." "Arrah, Shorsha! I can't.

Well, to oblige you, I'll give it you.

Well, you know Ma-Coul was an exposed child, and came floating over the salt sea in a chest which was cast ashore at Veintry Bay.

In the corner of that bay was a castle, where dwelt a giant and his wife, very respectable and dacent people, and this giant, taking his morning walk along the bay, came to the place where the child had been cast ashore in his box.