When supper was eaten, the Fox said to him: ‘You had better come with me till morning. I will put lamb-skins under your head and bird's feathers to your feet.’ Murrogh went with him; he prepared his bed and he fell asleep. When he awoke in the morning, the Fox was gone and his shoes and provisions with him. Murrogh had to walk bare-foot through soft drowned peat ground, the soles of his feet cut by the frost, until he came to the brink of a river, where he saw the Fox dancing in the brogues. ‘It is an ill trick you did me’, says Murrogh, ‘after the good you did me.’ ‘It is I that did what was best for you’, answered the Fox. ‘Your brogues are now warm and comfortable to put on your feet, and at twelve you will be at