Page:Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland (Curtin).djvu/51

 of one color or kind, I 'll have your head on the seven hundredth spike to-morrow."

"Here are two whistles,—an old, and a new one; take your choice of them to call the birds."

The king's son took the new whistle, and set out over the hills and valleys, whistling as he went. But no matter how he whistled, not a bird came near him. At last, tired and worn out with travelling and whistling, he sat down on a hillock and began to cry.

That moment Yellow Lily was at his side with a cloth, which she spread out, and there was a grand meal before him. He had n't finished eating and drinking, before the stable was thatched with birds' feathers, and no two of them of one color or kind.

When he came home that evening the giant called out: "Have you the stable thatched for me to-night?"

"I have indeed," said the king's son; "and small trouble I had with it."

"If that 's true," said the giant, "either the devil or my daughter helped you."

"It was my own strength, and not the devil or your daughter that helped me," said the king's son.

He spent that night as he had the two nights before.

Next morning, when the giant found him alive in