speedily toward the hall, and the women now come up after him, having gotten the kine into the byre; so they all three go into the hall together.
Then cries out the goodman: Is there aught in the hall now? Osberne answers from where he sat: There is but little, for I am little. Then they turn and see him hugging himself up in the sack, and something at his back, they cannot see what; and the goodman says: What hast thou been about all day, kinsman? Thou art forever foolhardy and a truant; of right, stripes should pay thee for thy straying. Said Osberne: I have been shepherding sheep; may it not buy me off the stripes that I have found two of the lost ones, and brought back all safe? Maybe, says the master; but did aught else befall thee? Says the lad: Will it not buy me off beating that I have also brought home catch? Yea, if the catch be good, says the goodman. It is but a leash of snipes, which I got me in a corner of the bog up yonder, says Osberne. Snipes! says Bridget; deft art thou, fosterling, to take them without either springe or stone-bow, and they all flittering like butterflies on a March day. Yea, auntie, saith he, but a stone or two might avail without the bow, were one deft enough. Yet with no such weapons did I slay them; ask me what weapons I bore against them. Therewith he stirs and shakes himself, and off tumbles the sack from his shoulders, and therewith his grandame lights up the candles, and they all see the scarlet and gold of his holiday raiment; and Bridget says: This also will I ask thee, fos-
