THE BANSHEE’S COMB
I wisht I had all the song to let your honour hear it, an' maybe I'll learn it from Darby be the next time ye come this way, an' I wisht I had time to tell your honour how Darby, one day havin' made himself onwisible, lost the stone, and how Bothered Bill Donahue found it, and how Bill, rubbin' it be accident, made himself onwisible, an' of the turrible time Darby had a-finding him.
But here's Kilcuny, an' there's the inn, an'—thank ye! God bless yer honour!
THE END
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