There was once a man the name of Michael Hugh, and he was tormented with dreams of a kist was buried in under a bridge in England. For awhile he took no heed to the visions were with him in the stillness of the night, but at long last the notion grew in his mind that he be to visit that place and find out was there anything in it.

“I could make right use of a treasure,” thinks he to himself. “For ’tis heart scalded I am with dwelling in poverty, and a great weariness is on me from toiling for a miserable wage.” Then he bethought of the foolishness of making the journey if all turned out a deceit.

“Sure I’ll be rid of belief in the dreams [92]are driving me daft with their grandeur and perseverance,” says he. “Evenly failure will bring a sort of satisfaction for I’ll get fooling whatever spirit does be bringing the vision upon me.”

So my brave Michael Hugh took an ash plant in his hand, and away with him oversea to England to discover the bridge of the kist.

He was a twelvemonth travelling and rambling with no success to rise his heart, and he began for to consider he had better return to his own place. But just as he was making ready to turn didn’t he chance on a strong flowing river, and the sight near left his eyes when he found it was spanned by the bridge he was after dreaming of.

Well Michael Hugh went over and he looked down on the black depth of water was flowing in under the arch.

“It’ll be a hard thing surely to be digging for a kist in that place,” says he. “I’m thinking a man would find a sore death and no treasure at all if he lepped into the flood. But maybe it’s laid out for me to gather my fortune here, and some person may come for to give me instruction.” [93]

With that he walked up and down over the bridge, hoping for further advice since he could not contrive a wisdom for his use. There was a house convenient to the river, and after awhile a man came from it.

“Are you waiting on any person in this place?” says he to Michael Hugh. “It’s bitter weather to be abroad and you be to be as hardy as a wild duck to endure the cold blast on the bridge.”

“I’m hardy surely,” Michael Hugh makes his answer. “But ’tis no easy matter to tell if I’m waiting on any person.”

“You’re funning me,” says the Englishman. “How would you be abroad without reason, and you having a beautiful wise countenance on you?”

With that Michael Hugh told him the story of the dreams that brought him from Ireland, and how he was expectant of a sign to instruct him to come at the kist. The Englishman let a great laugh.

“You’re a simple fellow,” says he. “Let you give up heeding the like of visions and ghosts, for there is madness in the same and no ............