And it is what the first of them said; “It is outside there is a heavy sound with the heavy water dropping from the tops of trees; the sound of the waves is not to be heard for the loud splashing of the rain.”  And then the next one said:  “The trees of the wood are shivering, and the birch is turning black; the snow is killing the birds; that is the story outside.”  And the third said:  “It is to the east they have turned their face, the white snow and the dark rain; it is what is making the plain so cold is the snow that is dripping and getting hard.”

But there was a serving-girl in the house, and she said:  “Rise up, Oisin, and go out to the white-headed cows, since the cold wind is plucking the trees from the hills.”

Oisin went out then, and the serving-man on his shoulders; but it is what the serving-man did, he brought a vessel of water and a birch broom with him, and he was dashing water in Oisin’s face, the way he would think it was rain.  But when they came to the pen where the cattle were, Oisin found the night was quiet, and after that he asked no more news of the weather from the servants.

CHAPTER III.  THE ARGUMENTS

And S. Patrick took in hand to convert Oisin, and to bring him to baptism; but it was no easy work he had to do, and everything he would say, Oisin would have an answer for it.  And it is the way they used to be talking and arguing with one another, as it was put down afterwards by the poets of Ireland:—­

Patrick.  “Oisin, it is long your sleep is.  Rise up and listen to the Psalm.  Your strength and your readiness are gone from you, though you used to be going into rough fights and battles.”

Olsin.  “My readiness and my strength are gone from me since Finn has no armies living; I have no liking for clerks, their music is not sweet to me after his.”

Patrick.  “You never heard music so good from the beginning of the world to this day; it is well you would serve an army on a hill, you that are old and silly and grey.”

Olsin.  “I used to serve an army on a hill, Patrick of the closed-up mind; it is a pity you to be faulting me; there was never shame put on me till now.

“I have heard music was sweeter than your music, however much you are praising your clerks:  the song of the blackbird in Leiter Laoi, and the sound of the Dord Fiann; the very sweet thrush of the Valley of the Shadow, or the sound of the boats striking the strand.  The cry of the hounds was better to me than the noise of your schools, Patrick.

“Little Nut, little Nut of my heart, the little dwarf that was with Finn, when he would make tunes and songs he would put us all into deep sleep.

“The twelve hounds that belonged to Finn, the time they would be let loose facing out from the Siuir, their cry was sweeter than harps and than pipes.

“I have a little story about Finn; we were but fifteen men; we took the King of the Saxons of the feats, and we won a battle against the King of Greece.