'It rests on a girl with golden eyes and the hair and swan-white breast of Eilidh the Fair--but me feet don't seem to get me to her,' I said." The brogue thickened.
"An' the little man in green nodded his head an' whirled his shillalah.
"'It's what I came to tell ye,' says he.

'Don't ye fall for the Bhean-Nimher, the serpent woman wit' the blue eyes; she's a daughter of Ivor, lad--an' don't ye do nothin' to make the brown-haired coleen ashamed o' ye, Larry O'Keefe.

I knew yer great, great grandfather an' his before him, aroon,' says he, 'an' wan o' the O'Keefe failin's is to think their hearts big enough to hold all the wimmen o' the world.
A heart's built to hold only wan permanently, Larry,' he says, 'an' I'm warnin' ye a nice girl don't like to move into a place all cluttered up wid another's washin' an' mendin' an' cookin' an' other things pertainin' to general wife work.

Not that I think the blue-eyed wan is keen for mendin' an' cookin'!' says he.
"'You don't have to be comin' all this way to tell me that,' I answer.
"'Well, I'm just a tellin' you,' he says.

'Ye've got some rough knocks comin', Larry.