my trowel and hammer!' says the Gubbaun, to himself, 'if that's
the case, its full time to be goin' ourselves likewise;' and when they
were going to work, he told Boofun every word, for _he_ never
suspected. 'But never fear,' says he, 'we'll get out of this scrape,
if they did their worst and their best, and if they were seventeen
times wiser than they are, and if they had all the guards in his
kingdom to watch me; but howld _your_ tongue, and don't let on a word
of what I've said.'

"Next morning, when the king was up, and in his room, where he
transacted all his affairs, the Gubbaun came and sint up word that he
would be glad to see his majesty about something that was wanted for
the palace. Now the Gubbaun, sir, was always welcome; and it was only
because the king had _too good_ an opinion of him, that he was going
to kill him. When he was admitted, 'Well,' says the king, (mighty
grand,) 'is my palace finished, _or_ what do you want with _me_?' says
he.

"'Why, plaze your majesty's reverence,' says the Gubbaun, (for he was
a fine spoken man,) 'your majesty's palace is _not_ quite complately
turned out of my hands yet,' says he, 'nor I can't exactly call it
finished, nor let the people that's to come after me speak of the name
of the Gubbaun Seare along with it, unless one thing is done, that
_should_ be done, if your majesty raylly wishes it to be _perfect_.'

"'Well, spake your wishes, _and then, if I plaze_, they shall be
attinded to,' says the king.

"'Well, then, plaze your majesty, there is an instrument, and without
it, your statues, and your images and pillars can't be polished nor
complayted unless I get it, and that instrument is at home with me,'
says he.

"'What may be the name of it?' says the king.

"'Why, we call it,' said the Gubbaun, (of course they spoke in Irish,)
'_Khur enein khur, agus khaoun enein khaoun!_' (and that, your honor,
manes, the tricks upon tricks, and the twists upon twists;) 'no one in
Ireland owns such an instrument but myself, or at any rate not half
such a good one; and if your majesty plazes, I'll go home and get it.'

"'No,' says the king, '_you must never laive me_; when I've this
palace built, I'll build another, and I'll want you; if I let you go
now, may be you'd meet something better, though _that_ you could
hardly do, I believe; but may be you'd die on the road, and I'd never
see you again. _No_,' says he, 'you must _never_ laive me!'

"'Do you think so?' says