[Illustration: "FORNENT HIM THERE SAT ON HIS HAUNCHES A COMELY-LOOKING GREYHOUND." (_Page 71._)] 'God save you,' said Paddy, every hair in his head standing up as straight as a sally twig. 'Save you kindly,' answered the greyhound--leaving out God, the beast, bekase he was the divil. Christ defend us from ever seeing the likes o' him. 'Musha, Paddy M'Dermid,' said he, 'what would you be looking after in that grave of a hole you're diggin' there?' 'Faith, nothing at all, at all,' answered Paddy; bekase you see he didn't like the stranger. 'Arrah, be easy now, Paddy M'Dermid,' said the greyhound; 'don't I know very well what you are looking for?' 'Why then in truth, if you do, I may as well tell you at wonst, particularly as you seem a civil-looking gentleman, that's not above speaking to a poor gossoon like myself.' (Paddy wanted to butter him up a bit.) 'Well then,' said the greyhound, 'come out here and sit down on this bank,' and Paddy, like a gomulagh (fool), did as he was desired, but had hardly put his brogue outside of the circle made by the holy water, when the beast of a hound set upon him, and drove him out of the Rath; for Paddy was frightened, as well he might, at the fire that flamed from his mouth. But next night he returned, full sure the money was there. As before, he made a circle, and touched the flag, when my gentleman, the greyhound, appeared in the ould place. 'Oh ho,' said Paddy, 'you are there, are you? but it will be a long day, I promise you, before you trick me again'; and he made another stroke at the flag. 'Well, Paddy M'Dermid,' said the hound, 'since you will have money, you must; but say, how much will satisfy you?' Paddy scratched his conlaan, and after a while said-- 'How much will your honour give me?' for he thought it better to be civil. 'Just as much as you consider reasonable, Paddy M'Dermid.' 'Egad,' says Paddy to himself, 'there's nothing like axin' enough.' 'Say fifty thousand pounds,' said he. (He might as well have said a hundred thousand, for I'll be bail the beast had money gulloure.) 'You shall have it,' said the hound; and then, after trotting away a little bit, he came back with a crock full of guineas between his paws. 'Come here and reckon them,' said he; but Paddy was up to him, and refused to stir, so the crock was shoved alongside the blessed and holy circle, and Paddy pulled it in, right glad to have it in his clutches, and never stood still until he reached his own home, where his guineas turned into little bones, and his ould mother laughed at him. Paddy now swore vengeance against the deceitful beast of a greyhound, and went next night to the Rath again, where, as before, he met Mr. Hound. 'So you are here again, Paddy?' said he. 'Yes, you big blaggard,' said Paddy, 'and I'll never leave this place until I pull out the pot of money that's buried here.'