Y kione reiltagh as y 'treebagh
Myr haghyr eh, ren kione reiltagh as streebagh roshtyn giat Niau rish y cheilley. As yeeagh y Noo orroo dy trimshagh.
“Cre’n fa dy nee kione reiltagh uss?” as eh, rish y chied jeu.
“Er yn oyr,” as y kione reiltagh, “dy hass mee er ny prinsabyllyn hene t’er nyn ngiaddey as t’er nyannoo y Partee ennoil ayns cree yn theay. Dy yannoo skeeal giare jeh, hass mee, gyn lhiggey lesh, my haghter y theay.”
“As uss?” denee y Noo jeeish jeh’n demi-monde.
“Va mee laccal argid,” as ish.
As erreish da thurrick smooinaghtagh dooyrt y Noo: “Wahll, tar stiagh; ga nagh vel oo dy hoilçhin.”
Agh da’n chione reiltagh dooyrt eh: “S’treih lhien dy firrinagh gra dy vel y reamys beg ain as genney mee-aighar anaase ayns ny Feyshtyn ta shiu er chur wheesh niart dyn broo stiagh ayns king y theay as er nyn bohlldey cho oalagh ‘sy traa t’er ngoll shaghey, nyn lhiettal veih cur diu y cooney ta shiu shirrey er.”
As ghooin eh y dorrys airhey.
The Demagogue and the Demi-Monde
A demagogue and a demi-mondaine chanced to arrive together at the gate of Paradise. And the Saint looked sorrowfully at them both.
“Why were you a demagogue?” he said to the first.
“Because,” said the demagogue, “I stood for those principles that have made us what we are and have endeared our Party to the great heart of the people. In a word I stood unflinchingly on the plank of popular representation.”
“And you?” said the Saint to her of the demi-monde.
“I wanted money,” said the demi-mondaine.
And after some moments’ thought the Saint said: “Well, come in; though you don't deserve to.”
But to the demagogue he said: “We genuinely regret that the limited space at our disposal and our unfortunate lack of interest in those Questions that you have gone so far to inculate and have so ably upheld in the past, prevent us from giving you the support for which you seek.”
And he shut the golden door.
Ta'n skeealeen shoh çhyndaait ass The Demagogue and the Demi-Monde liorish yn Çhiarn Dunsany. Ta'n skeeal Baarle bunneydagh ry-lhaih er Project Gutenberg.