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Rh him, and his wax and his thread, and the fine awls and the thick awls and the lasts, and he began to work. He had a habit of always humming while he was working, and this is the tune he used to keep going most of the time:—

Oh, torment and trouble to you, You bristly hag! Who have brought on me the hate of the women Of Ireland; You with your two ears As large as a shovel, And your great thick lips For a mouth!

If I were to get from Ruachtach To the bank of Avonmore And Mallow away to the north As a portion with you,

The brown Cledach And all the cows upon it, I would not stretch out My life with you.