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You will bring your axe very well sharpened and when I say to you, 'What is that which I see with you now? you must answer, 'It is an ass which I have taken with me to carry barley. I will say to you, 'I am looking for the lion, and not for an ass, Then he will ask you, 'Who is speaking to you? Answer him, 'It is the nems! He will say to you, 'Hide me, for I am afraid of him, When I ask you, 'Who is that stretched there before you? answer, 'It is a beaver, I will say, 'Take your axe and strike, to know if it be not the lion, You will take your axe and you will strike the lion hard between the eyes.
And my poor mother, who pored me pig old Tuncan ta fery tay of ta pattle, would not be hearing won wort of him for tree months tat he was away; and when he would pe creep pack like a fox to see her one fine night when ta moon was not pe up, they'll make up an acreement to co away together for a time, and to call temselfs MacPhails. But py and py tey took their own nems again."
"The 'nems." "Hide me," cried the lion, "for I fear him." The laborer said to him, "Stretch yourself out before me, shut your eyes, and don't move." The lion stretched out before him, shut his eyes, and held his breath. The peasant said to the jackal, "I have not seen the lion pass to-day." "What is that stretched before you?" "It is a beaver."
"Perhaps not, my laty." "I want to know what his real name is. Is it the same as yours? It doesn't seem respectable not to have your own names." "Oh yes, my laty, fery respectable. Many coot men has to porrow nems of teir neighpours.
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