Wisha, I heard of an old man that lived long ago. His name was 'Gear Marbha Céad'. He learned tailoring. He was only a fool and a fist high.
When he had his trade learned. he took his scissors, labbord, and iron, and he went in search of a job, so he was travelling away and he got tired and he went into a field to take a rest, he laid down in a break of ferns, and fell asleep.
After some few minutes a man came up and hit him a kick in the back. He asked the tailor what kind of a man was he. He said that he was "Gear Marbha Céad', and the man asked him what could he do and he said that he could kill a hundred in every blow.
The man didn't believe him so he bet him a hundred pounds that he would. It was a very fine evening and there were millions of midges there. He drew one wallop at them, with a fern and killed a hundred or more so he won his bet.
The man employed him for five pound for three days. The man had a well which
(continues on next page)