r nothing in this world could keep still while
that tune of his was going on--and says she to him, chanting it out with
a voice as sweet as honey:

I'm a lady of honour
Who live in the sea;
Come down, Maurice Connor,
And be married to me.
Silver plates and gold dishes
You shall have, and shall be
The king of the fishes,
When you're married to me.

Drink was strong in Maurice's head, and out he chanted in return for her
great civility. It is not every lady, may be, that would be after making
such an offer to a blind piper; therefore 'twas only right in him to
give her as good as she gave herself, so says Maurice:

I'm obliged to you, madam:
Off a gold dish or plate,
If a king, and I had 'em,
I could dine in great state.
With your own father's daughter
I'd be sure to agree,
But to drink the salt water
Wouldn't do so with me!

The lady looked at him quite amazed, and swinging her head from side to
side like a great scholar, 'Well,' says she, 'Maurice, if you're not a
poet, where is poetry to be found?'

In this way they kept on at it, framing high compliments; one answering
the other, and their feet going with the music as fast as their tongues.
All the fish kept dancing, too; Maurice heard the clatter and was
afraid to stop playing lest it might be displeasing to the fish, and not
knowing what so many of them may take it into their heads to do to him
if they got vexed.

Well, the lady with the green hair kept on coaxing Maurice with soft
speeches, till at last she over persuaded him to promise to marry her,
and be king over the fishes, great and small. Maurice was well fitted
to be their king, if they wanted one that could make them dance; and he
surely would drink, barring the salt water, with any fish of them all.

When Maurice's mother saw him with that unnatural thing in the form of a
green-haired lady as his guide, and he and she dancing down together
so lovingly to the water's edge, through the thick of the fishes, she
called out after him to stop and come back. 'Oh, then,' says she, 'as
if I was not widow enough before, there he is going away from me to be
married to that scaly woman. And who knows but 'tis grandmother I may be
to a hake or a cod--Lord help and pity me, but 'tis a mighty unnatural
thing!