doubtedly
he had given every giant in Ireland a considerable beating, barring Fin
M'Coul himself; and he swore that he would never rest, night or day,
winter or summer, till he would serve Fin with the same sauce, if he
could catch him. However, the short and long of it was, with reverence
be it spoken, that Fin heard Cucullin was coming to the Causeway to
have a trial of strength with him; and he was seized with a very warm
and sudden fit of affection for his wife, poor woman, leading a very
lonely, uncomfortable life of it in his absence. He accordingly pulled
up the fir-tree, as I said before, and having snedded it into a
walking-stick, set out on his travels to see his darling Oonagh on the
top of Knockmany, by the way.

In truth, the people wondered very much why it was that Fin selected
such a windy spot for his dwelling-house, and they even went so far as
to tell him as much.

"What can you mane, Mr. M'Coul," said they, "by pitching your tent upon
the top of Knockmany, where you never are without a breeze, day or
night, winter or summer, and where you're often forced to take your
nightcap without either going to bed or turning up your little finger;
ay, an' where, besides this, there's the sorrow's own want of water?"

"Why," said Fin, "ever since I was the height of a round tower, I was
known to be fond of having a good prospect of my own; and where the
dickens, neighbours, could I find a better spot for a good prospect
than the top of Knockmany? As for water, I am sinking a pump, and,
plase goodness, as soon as the Causeway's made, I intend to finish it."

Now, this was more of Fin's philosophy; for the real state of the case
was, that he pitched upon the top of Knockmany in order that he might
be able to see Cucullin coming towards the house. All we have to say
is, that if he wanted a spot from which to keep a sharp look-out--and,
between ourselves, he did want it grievously--barring Slieve Croob, or
Slieve Donard, or its own cousin, Cullamore, he could not find a neater
or more convenient situation for it in the sweet and sagacious province
of Ulster.

"God save all here!" said Fin, good-humouredly, on putting his honest
face into his own door.

"Musha, Fin, avick, an' you're welcome home to your own Oonagh, you
darlin' bully." Here followed a smack that is said to have made the
waters of the lake at the bottom of the hill curl, as it were, with
kindness and sympathy.

Fin spent two or three happy da