and he'd be sure to give him something for her. Yes, Matt went off with the cow; and when he got to the butcher's house, the butcher spat into the palm of Matt's hand, and said—
"There! you have something for your cow, but look sharp after it."
So off went Matt as carefully as if he trode on eggs, holding his hand shut; but when he had got about as far as the cross-road which led to their farm, he met the parson, who came driving along.
"Open the gate for me, my lad," said the parson.
So the lad hastened to open the gate, but in doing so he forgot what he had in his palm, and took the gate by both hands, so that what he got for the cow was left sticking on the gate. So when he saw it was gone he got cross, and said his reverence had taken something from him.
But when the parson asked him if he had lost his wits, and said he had taken nothing from him, Matt got so wroth he killed the parson at a blow, and buried him in a bog by the wayside.
So when he got home he told his mother all about it, and she slaughtered a billy-goat, and laid it where Matt had laid the parson, but she buried the parson in another place. And when she had done that she hung over the fire a pot of brose, and when it was cooked she made Matt sit down in the ingle and split matches. Meantime she went up on the roof with the pot and poured the brose down the chimney, so that it streamed over her son.
Next day came the sheriff. So when the sheriff asked him, Matt did not gainsay that he had slain the
