"I will teach you," said the youth. "Split this great log, make four pieces of it, and make four quarters of the hog; put a log under each quarter; tell a true story, and the meat will be cooked."
"Tell the first story yourself," said Cormac.
"Seven pigs I have of the same kind as the one I brought, and I could feed the world with them. For if a pig is killed I have but to put its bones into the stye again, and it will be found alive the next morning."
The story was true, and a quarter of the pig was cooked.
Then Cormac begged the woman of the house to tell a story.
"I have seven white cows, and they fill seven cauldrons with milk every day, and I give my word that they yield as much milk as would satisfy the men of the whole world if they were out on yonder plain drinking it."
That story was true, and a second quarter of the pig was cooked.
Cormac was bidden now to tell a story for his quarter, and he told how he was upon a search for his wife, his son and his daughter that had been borne away from him a year before by a youth with a fairy branch.
"If what thou sayest be true," said the man of the house, "thou art indeed Cormac, son of Art, son of Conn of the Hundred Battles."
That story was true, and a quarter of the pig was cooked.
"Eat thy meal now," said the man of the house.
"I never ate before," said Cormac, "having only two people in my company."
"If they were dear to me, I would," said Cormac.
Then the door opened, and there entered the wife and children of Cormac: great was his joy and his exultation.
Then Manannan mac Lir, lord of the fairy Cavalcade, appeared before him in his own true form, and said thus:
"I it was, Cormac, who bore away these three from thee. I it was who gave thee this branch, all that I might bring thee here. Eat now and drink."
"I would do so," said Cormac, "could I learn the meaning of the wonders I saw to-day."
"Thou shalt learn them," said Manannan. "The horsemen thatching the roof with feathers are a likeness of people who go forth into the world to seek riches and fortune; when they return their houses are bare, and so they go on for ever. The young man dragging up the trees to make a fire is a likeness of those who labour for others: much trouble they have, but they never warm themselves at the fire. The three heads in the wells are three kinds of men. Some there are who give freely when they get freely; some who give freely though they get little; some who get much and give little, and they are the worst of the three, Cormac," said Manannan.