Nearly 150 years passed since their early warrior days, when Ossian suddenly returned from “Tir nan Og” and the enchanted mansion to seek his old friend and comrade Caoilte. On finding him, henceforth they both became St. Patrick’s constant companions in his missionary journeys through Erin. They give him the history and topography of every place they visit and of numberless other places, all of which is noted down by Brogan, the saint’s faithful scribe, for the benefit of future generations. So says the wonderful “Colloquy of the Ancients.” As an instance of this service, Patrick and his company were one day sitting on the hill Finntulach, now better known as Ard-Patrick, in the county of Limerick, when the saint inquired regarding the origin of the name. Caoilte explained how it used to be called Tulach na Feinne until Fionn altered it; and went on to relate how that great leader of men and his following were once on this same hill when Cael O’Neamhain came to him, and the conversation of the two heroes turned on Crede, the daughter of Cairbre, King of Kerry. “Do you know,” said Fionn, “that she is the greatest flirt of all the women of Erin; that there is scarcely a precious gem in the land that she has not obtained as a token of love; and that she has not yet accepted the hand of any of her admirers.” “I know it,” said Cael, “but are you aware of the conditions on which she would accept a husband?” “Yes,” replied Fionn, “whoever is so gifted in the poetic art as to write a poem descriptive of her mansion and its rich furniture will receive her hand.” “Good,” said Cael, “I have with the aid of my nurse composed such a poem, and if you will accompany me, I will now repair to her court and present it to her.” Fionn consented, and setting out on their journey they in due time reached the lady’s mansion, which was situated at the foot of the well-known Paps of Anann in Kerry. On their arrival, the lady asked their business. Fionn answered that Cael came to seek her hand in marriage. “Has he a poem for me?” queried she. “I have,” said Cael. And he then recited his poem, of which the following are a few characteristic verses:— Happy the house in which she is, Between men and children and women, Between Druids and musical performers, Between cup-bearers and door-keepers. Between equerries without fear, And distributors who divide (the fare); And over all these the command belongs To fair Crede of the yellow hair. It would be happy for me to be in her _dùn_, Among her soft and downy couches, Should Crede deign to hear my suit, Happy for me would be my journey. A bowl she has whence berry-juice flows, By which she colours her eyebrows black, She has clear vessels of fermenting ale; Cups she has and beautiful goblets.