leg, stood his ground, but at the same time raymembering more prayers an’ raypentin’ of more mane things he’d done than ever before since he was born.
He was sure it was Ould Nick himself that was in it.
And now a new danger jumped suddenly before the King. The pig headed for her favourite hole through the hedge, and whin the King saw the size of the hole he let a howl out of him, for he knew he’d be trun. He scrooched close to the baste’s back and dhrew up his legs. Sure enough he was slithered off her back and left sitting on the hard ground, half the clothes torn from his rile back.
That howl finished Tom entirely, so that whin his Majesty crawled through the hole afther the pig and came over to him, the ballad-maker wouldn’t have given tuppence for his sowl’s salvation. Howsumever, he put on the best and friendliest face he could undher the sarcumstances. Scraping with his wooden leg and pulling at a tuft of carroty hair on his forehead, Tom said, mighty wheedling:
“The top o’ the day to your Honour. Sure, how’s Mrs. Balzebub and the childher. I hear it’s a fine, bright family your Lordship has. Arrah, it isn’t the
