“Oh! great is your burden,” said the lady; “will you give it to me?”
“Who are you?” said she.
“I am the Virgin Mary.”
“I will not give it to you.”
She moved on with herself. She had not gone far when a gentleman met her.
“Great is your burden, my poor woman; will you give it to me?”
“Who are you?” said she.
“I am God,” said he.
“I will not give my burden to you.”
She went on with herself another while. Another gentlemen met her.
“Great is the burden you have,” said the gentleman; “will you give it to me?”
“Who are you?” said she.
“I am the King of Sunday,” said he.
“I will give my burden to you,” said she. “No rest had I ever in hell except on Sunday.”
“Well, it is a good woman you are; the first lady you met it was the devil was there; the second person you met it was the devil was there, trying if they could get your burden from you back. Now,” said God, “the man for whom you have done all this is going to be married to-morrow. He thought you were lost since you were in that place so long. You will not know till you are at home.”
