I'm ruined, I am, so I am,' says he.

"'It's thrue fur ye,' says the king, 'begob it's the wan thrue thing ye
iver said,' says he, a-jumpin' on his back, an' givin' him the whip an'
the two shpurs wid all his might.

"Now I forgot to tell ye that whin the king made his inchantmint, it was
good fur siven miles round, and the Pooka knewn that same as well as the
king an' so he shtarted like a cunshtable was afther him, but the king was
afeared to let him go far, thinkin' he'd do the siven miles in a jiffy,
an' the inchantmint 'ud be broken like a rotten shtring, so he turned him
up the Corkschrew.

"'I'll give ye all the axercise ye want,' says he, 'in thravellin' round
this hill,' an' round an' round they wint, the king shtickin' the big
shpurs in him every jump an' crackin' him wid the whip till his sides run
blood in shtrames like a mill race, an' his schreams av pain wor heard all
over the worruld so that the king av France opened his windy and axed the
polisman why he didn't shtop the fightin' in the shtrate. Round an' round
an' about the Corkschrew wint the king, a-lashin' the Pooka, till his feet
made the path ye see on the hill bekase he wint so often.

[Illustration: "The Pooka Spirits"]

"And whin mornin' come, the Pooka axed the king phat he'd let him go fur,
an' the king was gettin' tired an' towld him that he must niver shtale
another horse, an' never kill another man, barrin' furrin blaggards that
wasn't Irish, an' whin he give a man a ride, he must bring him back to the
shpot where he got him an' lave him there. So the Pooka consinted, Glory
be to God, an' got aff, an' that's the way he was tamed, an' axplains how
it was that Dennis O'Rourke was left be the Pooka in the ditch jist where
he found him."

"More betoken, the Pooka's an althered baste every way, fur now he dhrops
his hair like a common horse, and it's often found shtickin' to the hedges
where he jumped over, an' they do say he doesn't shmell half as shtrong o'
sulfur as he used, nor the fire out o' his nose isn't so bright. But all
the king did fur him 'ud n't taiche him to be civil in his spache, an'
whin he meets ye in the way, he spakes just as much like a blaggard as
ever. An' it's out av divilmint entirely he does it, bekase he can be
perlite as ye know be phat I towld ye av him sayin' to the king, an' that
proves phat I said to ye that avil sper'ts can't larn rale good manners,
no matther how hard they thry.

"Bu