singed all the cows of Ireland in a fire of fern, and then he smeared
them with the ashes of flax seed, the way they were all dark brown. He
did that by the advice of the Druid Findgoll, son of Findemas. And
another time they made three hundred cows of wood with dark brown pails
in place of udders, and the pails were filled with black bog stuff. Then
Bres came to look at the cows, and to see them milked before him, and
Cian, father of Lugh, was there. And when they were milked it was the
bog stuff that was squeezed out; and Bres took a drink of it thinking it
to be milk, and he was not the better of it for a long time.

And there was another thing against Bres; he was no way open-handed, and
the chief men of the Tuatha de Danaan grumbled against him, for their
knives were never greased in his house, and however often they might
visit him there was no smell of ale on their breath. And there was no
sort of pleasure or merriment in his house, and no call for their poets,
or singers, or harpers, or pipers, or horn-blowers, or jugglers, or
fools. And as to the trials of strength they were used to see between
their champions, the only use their strength was put to now was to be
doing work for the king. Ogma himself, the shining poet, was under
orders to bring firing to the palace every day for the whole army from
the Islands of Mod; and he so weak for want of food that the sea would
sweep away two-thirds of his bundle every day. And as to the Dagda, he
was put to build raths, for he was a good builder, and he made a trench
round Rath Brese. And he used often to be tired at the work, and one
time he nearly gave in altogether for want of food, and this is the way
that happened. He used to meet in the house an idle blind man, Cridenbel
his name was, that had a sharp tongue, and that coveted the Dagda's
share of food, for he thought his own to be small beside it. So he said
to him: "For the sake of your good name let the three best bits of your
share be given to me." And the Dagda gave in to that every night; but he