"But as the avenin’ come, he riz a doubt in the mind av him thish-a-way. Ev the three hairs wor out av the Pooka’s tail, the charm ’ud be good enough, but if they wasn’t, an’ was from his mane inshtead, or from a horse inshtead av a Pooka, the charm ’udn’t work an’ the Pooka ’ud get atop av him wid all the feet he had at wanst an’ be the death av him immejitly. So this nate and outprobrious argymint shtruck the king wid great force an’ fur a bit, he was onaisey. But wid a little sarcumvintion, he got round it, for he confist an’ had absolution so as he’d be ready, thin he towld wan av the sarvints to come in an’ tell him afther supper, that there was a poor widdy in the boreen beyant the Corkschrew that wanted help that night, that it ’ud be an arriant av marcy he’d be on, an’ so safe agin the Pooka if the charm didn’t howld. "’Sure, phat’ll be the good o’ that?’ says the man, ’It ’ull be a lie, an’ won’t work.’ "’Do you be aisey in yer mind,’ says the king to him agin, ’do as yer towld an’ don’t argy, for that’s a pint av mettyfisics,’ says he, faix it was a dale av deep larnin’ he had, ’that’s a pint av mettyfisics an’ the more ye argy on thim subjics, the less ye know,’ says he, an’ it’s thrue fur him. ’Besides, aven if it’s a lie, it’ll desave the Pooka, that’s no mettyfishian, an’ it’s my belafe that the end is good enough for the manes,’ says he, a-thinking av the white mare. "So, afther supper, as the king was settin’ afore the fire, an’ had the charm in his pocket, the sarvint come in and towld him about the widdy. "’Begob,’ says the king, like he was surprised, so as to desave the Pooka complately, ’Ev that’s thrue, I must go relave her at wanst.’ So he riz an’ put on sojer boots, wid shpurs on ’em a fut acrost, an’ tuk a long whip in his hand, for fear, he said, the widdy ’ud have dogs, thin wint to his chist an’ tuk his owld stockin’ an’ got a suv’rin out av it,--Och, ’twas the shly wan he was, to do everything so well,--an’ wint out wid his right fut first, an’ the shpurs a-rattlin’ as he walked. "He come acrost the yard, an’ up the hill beyant yon an’ round the corner, but seen nothin’ at all. Thin up the fut path round the Corkscrew an’ met niver a sowl but a dog that he cast a shtone at. But he didn’t go out av the road to the widdy’s, for he was afeared that if he met the Pooka an’ he caught him in a lie, not bein’ in the road to where he said he was goin’, it ’ud be all over wid him. So he walked up an’ down bechuxt the owld church below there an’ the rath on the hill, an’ jist as the clock was shtrikin’ fur twelve, he heard a horse in front av him, as he was walkin’ down, so he turned an’ wint the other way, gettin’ his charm ready, an’ the Pooka come up afther him. "’The top o’ the mornin’ to yer Honor,’ says the Pooka, as perlite as a Frinchman, for he seen be his close that the king wasn’t a common blaggârd like us, but was wan o’ the rale quolity.