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So the fellows gathered round Tom, and the bad man aggravated him till
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he told them he didn't care a pinch o' snuff for the whole bilin' of
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'em; let 'em come on, six at a time, and try what they could do.
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The king, who was too far off to hear what they were saying, asked what
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did the stranger want.
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"He wants," says the red-headed fellow, "to make hares of your best
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men."
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"Oh!" says the king, "if that's the way, let one of 'em turn out and
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try his mettle."
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So one stood forward, with sword and pot-lid, and made a cut at Tom. He
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struck the fellow's elbow with the club, and up over their heads flew
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the sword, and down went the owner of it on the gravel from a thump he
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got on the helmet. Another took his place, and another, and another,
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and then half a dozen at once, and Tom sent swords, helmets, shields,
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and bodies, rolling over and over, and themselves bawling out that they
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were kilt, and disabled, and damaged, and rubbing their poor elbows and
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hips, and limping away. Tom contrived not to kill any one; and the
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princess was so amused, that she let a great sweet laugh out of her
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that was heard over all the yard.
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"King of Dublin," says Tom, "I've quarter your daughter."
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And the king didn't know whether he was glad or sorry, and all the
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blood in the princess's heart run into her cheeks.
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So there was no more fighting that day, and Tom was invited to dine
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with the royal family. Next day, Redhead told Tom of a wolf, the size
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of a yearling heifer, that used to be serenading about the walls, and
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eating people and cattle; and said what a pleasure it would give the
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king to have it killed.
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"With all my heart," says Tom; "send a jackeen to show me where he
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lives, and we'll see how he behaves to a stranger."
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The princess was not well pleased, for Tom looked a different person
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with fine clothes and a nice green birredh over his long curly hair;
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and besides, he'd got one laugh out of her. However, the king gave his
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consent; and in an hour and a half the horrible wolf was walking into
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the palace-yard, and Tom a step or two behind, with his club on his
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shoulder, just as a shepherd would be walking after a pet lamb.
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The king and queen and princess were safe up in their gallery, but the
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officers and people of the court that wor padrowling about the great
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bawn, when they saw the big baste coming in, gave themselves up, and
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began to make for doors and gates; and the wolf licked his chops, as if
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he was saying, "Wouldn't I enjoy a breakfast off a couple of yez!"
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The king shouted out, "O Tom with the Goat-skin, take away that
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terrible wolf, and you must have all my daughter."
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But Tom didn't mind him a bit. He pulled out his flute and began to
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play like vengeance; and dickens a man or boy in the yard but began
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shovelling away heel and toe, and the wolf himself was obliged to get
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on his hind legs and dance "Tatther Jack Walsh," along with the rest. A
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good deal of the people got inside, and shut the doors, the way the
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hairy fellow wouldn't pin them; but Tom kept playing, and the outsiders
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kept dancing and shouting, and the wolf kept dancing and roaring with
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the pain his legs were giving him; and all the time he had his eyes on
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Redhead, who was shut out along with the rest. Wherever Redhead went,
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the wolf followed, and kept one eye on him and the other on Tom, to see
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if he would give him leave to eat him. But Tom shook his head, and
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never stopped the tune, and Redhead never stopped dancing and bawling,
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and the wolf dancing and roaring, one leg up and the other down, and he
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ready to drop out of his standing from fair tiresomeness.
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When the princess seen that there was no fear of any one being kilt,
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she was so divarted by the stew that Redhead was in, that she gave
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another great laugh; and well become Tom, out he cried, "King of
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Dublin, I have two halves of your daughter."
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"Oh, halves or alls," says the king, "put away that divel of a wolf,
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and we'll see about it."
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So Tom put his flute in his pocket, and says he to the baste that was
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sittin' on his currabingo ready to faint, "Walk off to your mountain,
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my fine fellow, and live like a respectable baste; and if ever I find
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you come within seven miles of any town, I'll--"
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He said no more, but spit in his fist, and gave a flourish of his club.
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It was all the poor divel of a wolf wanted: he put his tail between his
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legs, and took to his pumps without looking at man or mortal, and
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neither sun, moon, or stars ever saw him in sight of Dublin again.
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At dinner every one laughed but the foxy fellow; and sure enough he was
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laying out how he'd settle poor Tom next day.
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"Well, to be sure!" says he, "King of Dublin, you are in luck. There's
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the Danes moidhering us to no end. Deuce run to Lusk wid 'em! and if
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any one can save us from 'em, it is this gentleman with the goat-skin.
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There is a flail hangin' on the collar-beam, in hell, and neither Dane
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nor devil can stand before it."
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"So," says Tom to the king, "will you let me have the other half of the
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princess if I bring you the flail?"
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"No, no," says the princess; "I'd rather never be your wife than see
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