“'Now, Jack,' says his master, 'go and eat your supper, and I hope you'll be able to perform your task--if not, off goes your head.' “'Very well, your honor,' says Jack, again scratching it in the hoith of perplexity, 'I must only do what I can.' “The next morning Jack was up with the sun, if not before him, and hard at his task; but before breakfast time he lost all heart, and little wonder he should, poor fellow, bekase for every one shovelful he'd throw out, there would come three more in: so that instead of making his task less, according as he got on, it became greater. He was now in the greatest dilemmy, and didn't know how to manage, so he was driven at last to such an amplush, that he had no other shift for employment, only to sing _Paddeen O'Rafferty_ out of mere vexation, and dance the hornpipe trebling step to it, cracking his fingers, half mad, through the stable. Just in the middle of this tantrum, who comes to the door to call him to his breakfast, but the beautiful crathur he saw the evening before peeping at him through the panel. At this minute, Jack had so hated himself by the dancing, that his handsome face was in a fine glow, entirely. “'I think,' said, she to Jack, with one of her own sweet smiles, 'that this is an odd way of performing your task.' “'Och, thin, 'tis you that may say that,' replies Jack; 'but it's myself that's willing to have my head hung up any day, just for one sight of you, you darling.' “'Where did you come from?' asked the lady, with another smile that bate the first all to nothing. “'Where did I come from, is it?' answered Jack; 'why, death-alive! did you never hear of ould Ireland, my jewel!--hem--I mane, plase your ladyship's honor.' “'No,' she answered; 'where is that country?' “'Och, by the honor of an Irishman,' says Jack, 'that takes the shine!--not heard of Erin--the Imerald Isle--the Jim of the ocean, where all the men are brave and honorable, and all the women--hem--I mane the ladies--chaste and beautiful?' “'No,' said she; 'not a word: but if I stay longer I may get you blame--come in to your breakfast, and I'm sorry to find that you have done so little at your task. Your roaster's a man that always acts up to what he threatens: and, if you have not this stable cleared out before dusk, your head will be taken of your shoulders this night.' “'Why, thin,' says Jack, 'my beautiful darl--plase your honor's ladyship--if he Dangs it up, will you do me the favor, _acushla machree_, to turn my head toardst that same panel where I saw a sartin fair face that I won't mintion: and if you do, let me alone for watching a sartin purty face I'm acquainted with.' “'What means _cushla machree?_ inquired the lady, as she turned to go away. “'It manes that you're the pulse of my heart, avourneen, plase your ladyship's Reverence,' says Jack.