’Twas in the days whin the good Patrick of Armagh slept with wan eye open, owin’ to the murderous desire of a bunch of haythin magicians to hang onto their jobs at the court of King Laeghaire. There was the chief royal wizard, Lochru by name, an’ two other divil-sint Druid priests, namely Caplait an’ Lucat-Moel, who hild the graft of makin’ wise haythins of Ethne the Fair an’ Fedelm the Ruddy, the King’s two daughters an’ the twin apples of his eye; an’ between the three of thim, with the King lookin’ their way wan day an’ Patrick’s way the next, the spells of wind an’ water an’ black magic the good Patrick had to circumvint were sure a caution. [Illustration] [Illustration] Now Patrick, bein’ a gintleman and the guest of King Laeghaire at Tara, could not turn himself loose on mimbers of the King’s own household. All the same, if he was to clane up Ireland, Druids, snakes an’ all, ’twas important to begin by convertin’ the King. So he was goin’ easy like, wan day miltin’ Laeghaire to tears with his iloquence, an’ alas! the nixt day findin’ the King bowin’ down to the great gold an’ silver idol, Cromm Cruach, which stood on the plain near Tara surrounded by twilve smaller idols of brass an’ tin. ’Twas a case of Cromm Cruach against Patrick an’ the Four Gospils with the odds even. [Illustration] [Illustration] Wan thing was plain, Cromm Cruach the big idol, an’ all the little idols must go. So wan day, in the prisence of King Laeghaire an’ all his household an’ a great multitude of the people, Patrick raised his staff before Cromm Cruach, an’ in the twinklin’ of an eye the big idol an’ all the little idols sank into the plain up to their necks. ’Twas a miracle the like of which had niver been seen in Ireland. An’ King Laeghaire, seein’ that all the spells of his Druid magicians could not raise up Cromm Cruach again, nor even the smallest of the little idols, became a Christian on the spot. Observin’ the same, old Lochru the wizard fell to ragin’ an’ tearin’ out his long whiskers by handfuls. Caplait an’ Lucat-Moel were frothin’ at the mouth because of their fat jobs gone a-glimmerin’. ’Twas a great day for the good Patrick, barrin’ the prisint failure of the multitude to follow the example of the King. [Illustration: _Patrick casting down Cromm Cruach and the twelve smaller idols_] [Illustration] Instead of fallin’ on their knees to receive the blissin’ of Patrick as he stood there with Sechnall his bishop, Erc his judge, an’ Presbiter Bescna his chaplain, all in their church vestmints, the people turned their faces to the West as wan man, beat upon their brists an’ cried out: “O, Wurra-Wurra!” In their mixture of ancient Irish an’ Gaelic (which was the common speech in those days), three times they cried: “O, Wurra-Wurra!” before they would let Patrick bliss an’ disperse thim.