"'Well, what do ye want wid me?' sez the Shnake.
"'I want to know why you didn't lave Irish soil wid all th' other Shnakes,' sez the Saint.
"'Ye tould the Shnakes to go,' sez the King, 'an' I am their King, so I am; and your wurrds didn't apply to me!' an' with that he dhrops like a flash of lightnin' into the lake agin.
"Well! St. Patrick was so tuk back wid his impidence that he had to think for a minit, an' then he calls again:—
"'Hi! here! you!'
"'What do you want now?' sez the King iv the Shnakes, again poppin' up his head.
"'I want to know why you didn't obey me ordhers?' sez the Saint. An' the King luked at him an' laughed; and he looked mighty evil, I can tell ye—for be this time the sun was down and the moon up, and the jool in his crown threw out a pale cold light that would make you shuddher to see. 'An',' says he, as slow an' as hard as an attorney (saving your prisence) when he has a bad case:—
"'I didn't obey,' sez he, 'because I thraverse the jurisdiction.'
"'How do ye mane?' asks St. Pathrick.
"'Because,' sez he, ' this is my own houldin',' sez he, 'be perscriptive right,' sez he. 'I'm the whole govermint here, and I put a nexeat on meself not to lave widout me own permission,' and he ducks down agin into the pond.
