in' wid its nose beways av a hint to
the cow fur to give up more milk. The calf punched an' the cow kicked,
fur, mind ye, the divil was in thim both, the poor bastes, no more was it
their fault at all, an' betune howldin' the bucket in wan hand an' milking
wid the other wan, an' kapin' his eye shkinned for the cow's heels, an'
shovin' the calf from his side, the saint was like to lose all the milk.

"'Tatther an' agers,' says he, 'shtand shtill, ye onnattheral crayther, or
I'll bate the life out o' ye, so I will,' says he, tarin' mad, fur the
calf was gettin' all, an' the bottom o' the bucket not covered. But the
cow wudn't do it, so the blessed saint tuk the calf be the years fur to
drag him away, an' then the cow run at him wid her horns so that he had to
let go the calf's years an' dodge an' was in a bother entirely. But he got
him a club in case the cow 'ud offer fur to hook him agin, an' opened the
gate into the field behind the church, an' afther a good dale o' jumpin'
about he sucsayded in dhrivin' in the cow an' kapin' out the calf. Then he
shut the gate an' wipin' the shweat aff his blessed face, he got the
bucket an' shtool an' set down to milk in pace. But be this time the cow
was tarin' mad at bein' shut from the calf, an' at the first shquaze he
gev her, she jumped like she'd heard a banshee, an' then phat 'ud she do
but lift up her heel an' give him a kick an the skull fit to crack it fur
him an' laid him on the grass, an' turnin' round, she put her fut in the
bucket an' stud lookin' at him, as fur to ax if he'd enough.

"'The divil brile the cow,' says the saint, God forgive him fur cursin'
her, but ye see he'd lost all consate av her be the throuble he'd had wid
her afore, besides the crack on his head, that was well nigh aiquel to the
kick he cud give himself, so that he was axcusable fur phat he was sayin',
fur it's no joke I'm tellin' ye to be made a showbogher av, be a baste av
a cow.

"'Sure I will, yer Riverince,' says a deep voice behind him, 'an' thank ye
fur that same favor, fur it's a fat bit she is.'

"Saint Kevin riz up a-rubbin' his head as fast as he cud an' looked round
an' there sure enough was owld Satan himself standin' there grinnin' away
wid the horrid mouth av him stratched from year to year, a-laughin' at the
fix the saint was in. Well, the minnit Saint Kevin set his two eyes an
him, he knewn he had him, fur ye see, the ground was conshecrated, but the
divil didn't know it fur it