J.M. Synge (1871-1909), The Aran Islands
(Dublin: Maunsel & Co., Ltd., 1907), pp. 138-139 (from Part III):
On one voyage he had a fellow-sailor who often boasted that he had been at school and learned Greek, and this incident took place:—
One night we had a quarrel, and I asked him could he read a Greek book with all his talk of it.
'I can so,' said he.
'We'll see that,' said I.
Then I got the Irish book out of my chest, and I gave it into his hand.
'Read that to me,' said I, 'if you know Greek.'
He took it, and he looked at it this way, and that way, and not a bit of him could make it out.
'Bedad, I've forgotten my Greek,' said he.
'You're telling a lie,' said I.
'I'm not,' said he; 'it's the divil a bit I can read it.'
Then I took the book back into my hand, and said to him—
'It's the sorra a word of Greek you ever knew in your life, for there's not a word of Greek in that book, and not a bit of you knew.'