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Very early next morning Bella started off with a sack and a scythe to cut grass for the animals.

Seppy remained at home and took off his coat, saying to himself, “I will show her how clever I am.”

It was a Wednesday, the day for butter-making. Seppy put the churn on the three-legged stool in the middle of the room, poured in the milk, and began to churn gaily. He heard the milk beating against the sides of the churn, and whistled happily as he worked.

Presently he heard the stout village priest tramping up the road. He stopped at Seppy’s cottage, put his head in at the door and asked for a glass of water, being very hot and red in the face from having walked so far.

HOWEVER, THE PRIEST HAD A GLASS

“Water is very dangerous; wouldn’t you rather have a small jug of beer?” said Seppy. He left the churn and went to the beer-barrel which stood on three bricks in a corner of the room, as far as possible from the fire. The barrel had not been tapped. Seppy found the key and set about piercing the bung, using his shoe instead of a hammer. He gave such a heavy blow that he pierced right through the barrel. The beer ran all over the floor. However, the priest had a glass, and, much refreshed, he wished Seppy good day and went on his way.