‘Right enough.’ replied St Patrick, ‘but I’ll let you see that they won’t.’ Now, any how St Patrick undherstood cattle irresistibly himself, havin’ been a herd-caudy (boy) in his youth; so he clapped his thumb to his thrapple, an’ gave the Soy-a-loa to the sheep, an’ behould you they came about him wid great relaxation an’ respect. ‘Keep yourselves sober an’ fictitious,’ says he, addressin’ them, ‘till this boy comes back, an’ don’t go beyant your owner’s property; or if you do, it’ll be worse for yez. If you regard your health durin’ the approximatin’ season, mind an’ attend to my words.’ Now, you see, every sheep, while he was spakin’, lifted the right fore leg, an’ raised the head a little, an’ behould when he finished, they kissed their foot, an’ made him a low bow as a mark of their estimation an’ superfluity. He thin clapped his finger an’ thumb in his mouth, gave a loud whistle, an’ in a periodical time he had all the other cattle on the hill about him, to which he addressed the same ondeniable oration, an’ they bowed to him wid the same polite gentility. He then brought the lad along wid him, an’ as they made progress in the journey, the little fellow says, ‘You seem frustrated by the walk, an’ if you’ll let me carry your bundle, I’ll feel obliged to you.’ ‘Do so,’ said the saint; ‘an’ as it’s rather long, throw the bag that the things are in over your shoulder; you’ll find it the aisiest way to carry it.’ Well, the boy adopted this insinivation, an’ they went ambiguously along till they reached the chapel. ‘Do you see that house?’ said St Patrick. ‘I do,’ said the other; ‘it has no chimley on it.’ ‘No,’ said the saint; ‘it has not; but in that house, Christ, he that saved you, will be present to-day.’ An’ the boy thin shed tears, when he thought of the goodness of Christ in saving one that was a stranger to him. So they entered the chapel, an’ the first thing the lad was struck with was the beams of the sun that came in through the windy shinin’ beside the altar. Now, he had never seen the like of it in a house before, an’ thinkin’ it was put there for some use or other in the intarior, he threw the wallet, which was like a saddle-bag, across the sunbeams, an’ lo an’ behould you the sunbeams supported them, an’ at the same time a loud sweet voice was heard, sayin’, ‘This is my servant St Kieran, an’ he’s welcome to the house o’ God!’ St Patrick then tuck him an’ instructed him in the various edifications of the larned languages until he became one of the greatest saints that ever Ireland saw, with the exception an’ liquidation of St Patrick himself.”