When Mrs. C. had ended, the old hag remained a while as if in a deep reverie: at length she said-- "Have you any of the milk in the house?" "I have," replied the other. "Show me some of it." She filled a jug from a vessel and handed it to the old sybil, who smelled it, then tasted it, and spat out what she had taken on the floor. "Where is your husband?" she asked. "Out in the fields," was the reply. "I must see him." A messenger was despatched for Bryan, who shortly after made his appearance. "Neighbour," said the stranger, "your wife informs me that your cattle are going against you this season." "She informs you right," said Bryan. "And why have you not sought a cure?" "A cure!" re-echoed the man; "why, woman, I have sought cures until I was heart-broken, and all in vain; they get worse every day." "What will you give me if I cure them for you?" "Anything in our power," replied Bryan and his wife, both speaking joyfully, and with a breath. "All I will ask from you is a silver sixpence, and that you will do everything which I will bid you," said she. The farmer and his wife seemed astonished at the moderation of her demand. They offered her a large sum of money. "No," said she, "I don't want your money; I am no cheat, and I would not even take sixpence, but that I can do nothing till I handle some of your silver." The sixpence was immediately given her, and the most implicit obedience promised to her injunctions by both Bryan and his wife, who already began to regard the old beldame as their tutelary angel. The hag pulled off a black silk ribbon or fillet which encircled her head inside her cap, and gave it to Bryan, saying-- "Go, now, and the first cow you touch with this ribbon, turn her into the yard, but be sure don't touch the second, nor speak a word until you return; be also careful not to let the ribbon touch the ground, for, if you do, all is over." Bryan took the talismanic ribbon, and soon returned, driving a red cow before him. The old hag went out, and, approaching the cow, commenced pulling hairs out of her tail, at the same time singing some verses in the Irish language in a low, wild, and unconnected strain. The cow appeared restive and uneasy, but the old witch still continued her mysterious chant until she had the ninth hair extracted. She then ordered the cow to be drove back to her pasture, and again entered the house. "Go, now," said she to the woman, "and bring me some milk from every cow in your possession." She went, and soon returned with a large pail filled with a frightful-looking mixture of milk, blood, and corrupt matter. The old woman got it into the churn, and made preparations for churning. "Now," she said, "you both must churn, make fast the door and windows, and let there be no light but from the fire; do not open your lips until I desire you, and by observing my directions, I make no doubt but, ere the sun goes down, we will find out the infernal villain who is robbing you."