HERE is a bit of crow language,--a conversation with a frog. When it is repeated in Gaelic it can be made absurdly like the notes of the creatures.
"Ghille Criosda mhic Dhughail cuir a nois do mhàg."
Christ's servant, son of Dugald, put up thy paw.
"Tha eagal orm, tha eagal orm, tha eagal orm."
"Gheibh thu còta gorm a's léine. Gheibh thu còta gorm a's léine."
Thou shalt have a blue coat and a shirt.
Then the frog put up his hand and the hoodie took him to a hillock and began to eat him, saying,
"Biadh dona lom! 's bu dona riabh thu."
Bad bare meat and bad wert thou ever.
"Caite bheil do ghealladh math a nis?" said the frog.
Where is thy good promise now?
"Sann ag ol a bha sinn an latha sin. Sann ag ol a bha sinn an latha sin."
It is drinking we were on that day.
"Toll ort a ruid ghrannda gur beag feola tha air do chramhan."
"Toll ort!" said the hoodie.
A hole in thee, ugly thing! how little flesh is on thy bones.