“The next day, in consequence of his long journey, he was ax’d to do nothing; but in the coorse of the evening, the dark chap brought him into a long, frightful room, where there were three hundred and sixty-five hooks sticking out of the wall, and on every hook but one a man’s head.  When Jack saw this agreeable sight, his dinner began to quake within him; but he felt himself still worse, when his master pointed to the empty hook, saying, ’Now, Jack, your business to-morrow is to clane out a stable that wasn’t claned for the last seven years, and if you don’t have it finished before dusk—­do you see that hook?’

“‘Ye—­yes,’ replied Jack, hardly able to spake.

“’Well, if you don’t have it finished before dusk, your head will be hanging on that hook as soon as the sun sets.’

“‘Very well, your honor,’ replied Jack; scarcely knowing what he said, or he wouldn’t have said ‘very well’ to such a bloody-minded intention, any how—–­’Very well,’ says he, ’I’ll do my best, and all the world knows that the best can do no more.’

“Whilst this discoorse was passing betune them, Jack happened to look at the upper end of the room, and there he saw one of the beautifullest faces that ever was seen on a woman, looking at him through a little panel that was in the wall.  She had a white, snowy forehead—­such eyes, and cheeks, and teeth, that there’s no coming up to them; and the clusters of dark hair that hung about her beautiful temples!—­by the laws, I’m afeard of falling in love with her myself, so I’ll say no more about her, only that she would charm the heart of a wheel-barrow.  At any rate, in spite of all the ould fellow could say—­heads and hooks, and all, Jack couldn’t help throwing an eye, now and then, to the panel; and to tell the truth, if he had been born to riches and honor, it would be hard to fellow him, for a good face and a good figure.

“‘Now, Jack,’ says his master, ’go and eat your supper, and I hope you’ll be able to perform your task—­if not, off goes your head.’

“‘Very well, your honor,’ says Jack, again scratching it in the hoith of perplexity, ‘I must only do what I can.’

“The next morning Jack was up with the sun, if not before him, and hard at his task; but before breakfast time he lost all heart, and little wonder he should, poor fellow, bekase for every one shovelful he’d throw out, there would come three more in:  so that instead of making his task less, according as he got on, it became greater.  He was now in the greatest dilemmy, and didn’t know how to manage, so he was driven at last to such an amplush, that he had no other shift for employment, only to sing Paddeen O’Rafferty out of mere vexation, and dance the hornpipe trebling step to it, cracking his fingers, half mad, through the stable.  Just in the middle of this tantrum, who comes to the door to call him to his breakfast, but the beautiful crathur he saw the evening before peeping at him through the panel.  At this minute, Jack had so hated himself by the dancing, that his handsome face was in a fine glow, entirely.