'Lord,' says he, 'only give me death, death, and a favourable judgment! I haven't anybody now to look after, nor anybody to look after me. What's a few tinpennies to save a man from want? Only a quiet grave is all I ask.' 'Murther, murther!' says Owney to himself, 'here's a man wants death and can't have it, and here am I going to have it, and, in troth, I don't want it at all, see.' So, after thinking a little what he had best do, he began to sing out very merrily, but lowering his voice, for fear he should be heard in the next room: 'To him that tied me here, Be thanks and praises given! I'll bless him night and day, For packing me to heaven. Of all the roads you'll name, He surely will not lag, Who takes his way to heaven By travelling in a bag!' 'To heaven, _ershishin_?'[13] said the man in the chimney-corner, opening his mouth and his eyes; 'why then, you'd be doing a Christian turn, if you'd take a neighbour with you, that's tired of this bad and villainous world.' [Footnote 13: Does he say?] 'You're a fool, you're a fool!' said Owney. 'I know I am, at least so the neighbours always tell me--but what hurt? Maybe I have a Christian soul as well as another; and fool or no fool, in a bag or out of a bag, I'd be glad and happy to go the same road it is you are talking of.' After seeming to make a great favour of it, in order to allure him the more to the bargain, Owney agreed to put him into the bag instead of himself; and cautioning him against saying a word, he was just going to tie him, when he was touched with a little remorse for going to have the innocent man's life taken: and seeing a slip of a pig that was killed the day before, in a corner, hanging up, the thought struck him that it would do just as well to put it in the bag in their place. No sooner said than done, to the great surprise of the natural, he popped the pig into the bag and tied it up. 'Now,' says he, 'my good friend, go home, say nothing, but bless the name in heaven for saving your life; and you were as near losing it this morning as ever man was that didn't know.' They left the house together. Presently out comes Owney-na-peak, very hearty; and being so, he was not able to perceive the difference in the contents of the bag, but hoisting it upon his back, he sallied out of the house. Before he had gone far, he came to the rock of Foynes, from the top of which he flung his burden into the salt waters.