an' he was jusht goin ta throw the clay over the coffin, when this voice tould him ta "hould on". that there was never yet a coffin put down in Templemore, that there washtnt, something black put in on top o' it before the clay was shovelled in. The man looked round but he couldn't see a single black thing ta put over it, an' the voice agin tould him when he had searched a good dale, an' failed ta get anything, that the besht thing for him ta do was ta throw in his overcoat OCourche he didn't want ta do that for he knew that he hadn't asthieh o' clothes on him only that an' the shirt, so he did his besht not ta part wit it, but it was no good, he couldn't put agrain o'clay over the coffin until he put his good black overcoat over it firsht, an' he had ta finish the job an' tidy the grave with nothin on him only his shirt.
He stharted on his journey away from the graveyard, but he couldn't find his way back, an' he kep' waudherin, an' waudherin' until at lasht where would ye think he found himsel but sittin on asthone in the middle o' Lough Bo, however he got there I don't know. Anyway he was there for agood while, an' his teeth clatthrin' in his head wit the dent o' could, when this big eagle flew over him, an' sey she "Ye have acould sate there" "I have then sey he an' I can't get out