One day when he was digging potatoes, his master--James Taafe--came out to his ridge, and they began talking, as was the custom with them. The talk fell on dreams, and said Owen that he would like better than anything if he could only have one. "You'll have one to-night," says his master, "if you do as I tell you." "Musha, I'll do it, and welcome," says Owen. "Now," says his master, "when you go home to-night, draw the fire from the hearth, put it out, make your bed in its place and sleep there to-night, and you'll get your enough of dreaming before the morning." Owen promised to do this. When, however, he began to draw the fire out, Margaret thought that he had lost his senses, so he explained everything James Taafe had said to him, had his own way, and they went to lie down together on the hearth. Not long was Owen asleep when there came a knock at the door. "Get up, Owen O'Mulready, and go with a letter from the master to America." Owen got up, and put his feet into his boots, saying to himself, "It's late you come, messenger." He took the letter, and he went forward and never tarried till he came to the foot of Sliabh Charn, where he met a cow-boy, and he herding cows. "The blessing of God be with you, Owen O'Mulready," says the boy. "The blessing of God and Mary be with you, my boy," says Owen. "Every one knows me, and I don't know any one at all." "Where are you going this time of night?" says the boy. "I'm going to America, with a letter from the master; is this the right road?" says Owen. "It is; keep straight to the west; but how are you going to get over the water?" says the boy. "Time enough to think of that when I get to it," replied Owen. He went on the road again, till he came to the brink of the sea; there he saw a crane standing on one foot on the shore. "The blessing of God be with you, Owen O'Mulready," says the crane. "The blessing of God and Mary be with you, Mrs. Crane," says Owen. "Everybody knows me, and I don't know any one." "What are you doing here?" Owen told her his business, and that he didn't know how he'd get over the water. "Leave your two feet on my two wings, and sit on my back, and I'll take you to the other side," says the crane. "What would I do if tiredness should come on you before we got over?" says Owen. "Don't be afraid, I won't be tired or wearied till I fly over." Then Owen went on the back of the crane, and she arose over the sea and went forward, but she hadn't flown more than half-way, when she cried out: "Owen O'Mulready get off me; I'm tired." "That you may be seven times worse this day twelvemonths, you rogue of a crane," says Owen; "I can't get off you now, so don't ask me." "I don't care," replied the crane, "if you'll rise off me a while till I'll take a rest." With that they saw threshers over their heads, and Owen shouted: "Och! thresher, thresher, leave down your flail at me, that I may give the crane a rest!"