hat was round
its neck, and which was tied at the other end to the hag's heaviest
foot.

There was an old, knock-kneed, raw-boned, one-eyed, little-winded,
heavy-headed mare with her also. Every time it put a front leg forward
it shivered all over the rest of its legs backwards, and when it put a
hind leg forward it shivered all over the rest of its legs frontwards,
and it used to give a great whistle through its nose when it was out of
breath, and a big, thin hen was sitting on its croup. Mongan looked on
the Hag of the Mill with delight and affection.

"This time," said he to mac an Da'v, "I'll get back my wife."

"You will indeed," said mac an Da'v heartily, "and you'll get mine back
too."

"Go over yonder," said Mongan, "and tell the Hag of the Mill that I want
to talk to her."

Mac an Da'v brought her over to him.

"Is it true what the servant man said?" she asked.

"What did he say?" said Mongan.

"He said you wanted to talk to me."

"It is true," said Mongan.

"This is a wonderful hour and a glorious minute," said the hag, "for
this is the first time in sixty years that any one wanted to talk to me.
Talk on now," said she, "and I'll listen to you if I can remember how to
do it. Talk gently," said she, "the way you won't disturb the animals,
for they are all sick."

"They are sick indeed," said mac an Da'v pityingly.

"The cat has a sore tail," said she, "by reason of sitting too close to
a part of the hob that was hot. The dog has a toothache, the horse has a
pain in her stomach, and the hen has the pip."

"Ah, it's a sad world," said mac an Da'v.

"There you are!" said the hag.

"Tell me," Mongan commenced, "if you got a wish, what it is you would
wish for?"

The hag took the cat off her shoulder and gave it to mac an Da'v.

"Hold that for me while I think," said she.

"Would you like to be a lovely young girl?" asked Mongan.

"I'd sooner be that than a skinned eel," said she.

"And would you like to marry me or the King of Leinster?" "I'd like to
marry either of you, or both of you, or whichever of you came first."

"Very well," said Mongan, "you shall have your wish."

He touched her with his finger, and the instant he touched her all
dilapidation and wryness and age went from her, and she became so
beautiful that one dared scarcely look on her, and so young that she
seemed but sixteen years of age.

"You are not the Hag of the Mill any longer," said Mongan, "you are
Ivell of the