Page:West Irish folk-tales and romances - William Larminie.djvu/188

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156
Beauty of the World.

mind he would never marry a woman whose head was not as black as the bird's wing, and her skin as white as the snow, and her cheeks as red as the blood on the snow.

He went home. On the morning of the morrow, when he rose, he washed himself, and he went away to find the woman. When he was going for a time, he met with a red-haired young man. The young man saluted him. He asked him where he was going. The king's son told him he was going to get one sight of that woman.

“It is better for you to hire me,” said the young man.

“What wages do you be asking?”

“Half of all we gain, to the end of a year and a day.”

The two went on with themselves till the evening came. Said the red man:

“There is a man related to me living in this wood below. Do you wait here till I go down to him.”

The red man went down to the house of the giant. The giant was sitting on a chair by the fire.

“Uncle, dear,” said the red man, “is it like this you are?”

“Yes, kinsman mine: what is coming to me?”

Said the red man: “The King of the prodigious Eastern World is coming up to kill you. Get out of the way as quick as you can.”