right has not been produced in a cheap form. The English author sees his natural market, amongst the purchasers of cheap books, invaded by a book of which the authorship has cost nothing in this country. He applies to his publisher to bring out a cheap edition. the knowledge of the great body of our countrymen He is unwilling that his book should be shut out from and he names a very moderate sum for the right of printing a very large edition. The rival no-copyright book is in the field; it is published in the East and it is published in the West. The offer of the author is liberal-it is tempting; but it is not accepted. The public are not just enough to discriminate between the greater price that ought to be involved in the payment for copyright and the lower price that is attainable when there is no such payment. The publisher must sell the copyright book as cheap as the no-copyright book, or the demand will be very unequal. He cannot risk the payment of copyright, and sell as cheap as the non-payers. volumes; and in this character we cannot accept | popular, however treated, and that the English copyhis authority upon questions affecting foreign copyright. We should greatly suspect a meeting to protect the rights of authors actively promoted by M. Galignani of Paris, or M. Malines of Brussels. No doubt Mr. Bohn might reply with perfect truth that he never touched an American copyright till the American booksellers had ruthlessly stolen and plundered his. But the argument of their wrong does not exactly justify his. With the lex talionis in active operation society would fare ill in graver questions than this of copyright. On the other hand, the "inducement," or gentle compulsion, by which unscrupulous piracy would propose to bring about scrupulous respect for property, though it appears more plausible in argument, is quite as bad in principle, and not worth much in fact. The Americans most benefited by the security of American copyright in England are not the publishers but the authors. The Americans who suffer most from non-protection to English copyright in America are not the authors but the publishers. These are facts well known, and they point in the direction from which the remedy must ultimately come. Compared with the publishers, the authors are but a feeble and powerless community in the United States; and we cannot for a moment doubt that the American bookseller is infinitely more worried by the existing no-law for us, than the American author is recompensed by finding that a law really exists for him. No American publisher or author can hope to gain, by protection of an American copyright in England, a tithe of what he loses by the non-protection of an English copyright in America. The case is not quite the same in England. We shall be excused for saying that here the authors have a more disinterested motive in seeing that justice is done, and can better afford to help in doing it. Not entertaining a shadow of doubt as to which country has the strongest motives for putting down piracy, we are at the same time convinced that piracy is a bad thing for authors, no matter on which side of the Atlantic it may be practised. We are told by the originators of the meeting about to be held, that they mean to prove the existence of foreign copyright to be "extremely prejudicial to the interests of British literature in all its departments;" but we nevertheless cling to the old-fashioned notion that whatever precludes native publishers from the supposed benefit of pirating foreign works has far more of a tendency to encourage than to discountenance native authorship. A case was put by Mr. Charles Knight in his last pamphlet on the paper-duty which we shall here take the liberty of quoting. We forbear further remark till we see what is proposed by the meeting referred to. Upon one point, it seems clear to us, ultimate legislation will be found necessary, whatever the decision of the House of Lords may be. We mean as to the construction of the words "first published," which would bar an author in either country where the first publication had taken place from resuming what he had once made publici juris. The cases curiously conflict with each other in this respect. In Chappell and Purday it was decided that, if a composition has been published abroad before being published here, copyright in this country is at an end. In Cocks and Purday it was held that if a composition has not been published abroad prior to enjoyed by the author. And, as if to complete the publication here, copyright may exist here, and be confusion, the exchequer judgment adopted the view of Cocks and Purday on the point of simultaneous publication, while the Court of Error seems distinctly to confirm that of Chappell and Purday in regard to the necessity of a prior publication. NEW AND PORTABLE AIR-GUN.-We were yesterday afternoon admitted to a private inspection and demonstration of the powers of a newly invented air-gun, the production of Mr. F. D. Arstall, who discharged in very rapid and continuous succession, many scores of bullets, from a fragile tube connected with a gutta percha reservoir. The whole of the bullets perforated most completely a thick plank target, and indented The exhibition took place in the large Lecture-room, a plate of quarter-inch sheet-iron placed at the back. No. 11 Lime street, and was attended by many scientific gentlemen, who freely inquired as to the various properties and advantages of the invention, all of which were satisfactorily explained by Mr. Arstall I will assume that an English author of high char- and his intelligent assistant. By means of this gun, acter has published a book in an expensive form- a charge of atmospheric air can be effected in two or beautifully printed-illustrated by the first artists-three minutes, sufficient to propel at least a hundred altogether a luxurious book. It has had a considera- balls in instantaneous succession, and as there is ble sale, and a wide reputation. It has greatly contributed to render the subject upon which it treats one of general interest. An American author, stimulated perhaps by this very book, produces a similar work in his own country. An English publisher seizes-it may be two or three English publishers seize upon the American copyright, knowing that the subject is neither flash nor report, and the weapon is much lighter than the ordinary musket, we have no doubt that, among many other uses to which it may be applied, in new colonies, where the settlers are thinly scattered, it will prove a great desideratum in affording protection against predatory incursions.-London paper. The LIVING AGE is published every Saturday, by E. LITTELL & Co., at the corner of Tremont and Bromfield Streets, Boston. Price 12 cents a number, or six dollars a year in advance. Remittances for any period will be thankfully received and promptly attended to. LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.-No. 380.-30 AUGUST, 1851. From the Dublin University Magazine. BARNY O'REIRDON THE NAVIGATOR. BY SAMUEL LOVER, ESQ., R. H. A. Well, he went farther and farther than I can tell. A VERY striking characteristic of an Irishman is his unwillingness to be outdone. Some have asserted that this arises from vanity; but I have ever been unwilling to attribute an unamiable motive to my countrymen where a better may be found, and one equally tending to produce a similar result, and I consider a deep-seated spirit of emulation to originate this peculiarity. Phrenologists might resolve it by supposing the organ of the love of approbation to predominate in our Irish craniums, but as I am not in the least a metaphysician and very little of a phrenologist, I leave those who choose to settle the point in question, quite content with the knowledge of the fact with which I started, viz., the unwillingness of an Irishman to be outdone. This spirit, it is likely, may sometimes lead men into ridiculous positions; but it is equally probable that the desire of surpassing one another has given birth to many of the noblest actions and some of the most valuable inventions; let us, therefore, not fall out with it. Now, having vindicated the motive of my countrymen, I will prove the total absence of national prejudice in so doing, by giving an illustration of the ridiculous consequences attendant upon this Hibernian peculiarity. Barny O'Reirdon was a fisherman of Kinsale, and a heartier fellow never hauled a net nor cast a line into deep water; indeed, Barny, independently of being a merry boy among his companions, a lover of good fun and good whiskey, was looked up to, rather, by his brother-fishermen, as an intelligent fellow, and few boats brought more fish to market than Barny O'Reirdon's; his opinion on certain points in the craft was considered law, and, in short, in his own little community, Barny was what is commonly called a leading man. Now, your leading man is always jealous in an inverse ratio to the sphere of his influence, and the leader of a nation is less incensed at a rival's triumph, than the great man of a village. If we pursue this descending scale, what a desperately jealous man the oracle of oyster-dredgers and cockle-women must be! Such was Barny O'Reirdon. phiz Wran, whin ivery one knows the divil a farther you ever wor, nor ketchin' crabs or drudgin' oysters. "Who towld you that, my Watherford wondher?" rejoined Barny," what the dickens do you know about sayfarin' farther nor fishin' for sprats in a bowl with your grandmother?" "Oh, baithershin!" says the stranger. "And who made you so bowld with my name?" demanded O'Reirdon. "No matther for that," said the stranger, "but if you'd like for to know, shure it 's your cousin Molly Mullins knows me well, and maybe I don't know you and yours as well as the mother that bore you, aye, in throth; and shure I know the very thoughts o' you as well as if I was inside o' you, Barny O'Reirdon." "By my sowl, thin you know better thoughts than your own, Mr. Whippersnapper, if that's the name you go by." "No, it's not the name I go by; I've as good a name as your own, Mr. O'Reirdon, for want of a betther, and that's O'Sullivan." "Throth there's more than there's good o' them," said Barny. "Good or bad, I'm a cousin o' your own twice removed by the mother's side." "And is it the Widda O'Sullivan's boy you'd be that 's left this, come Candlemas, four years?" "The same. "Throth thin you might know betther manners to your eldhers, though I'm glad to see you, anyhow, agin; but a little thravellin' puts us beyant ourselves sometimes," said Barny, rather contemptuously. "Throth I niver bragged out o' myself yit, and it's what I say that a man that's only a fishin' aff the land all his life has no business to compare in the regard of thracthericks wid a man that has sailed to Fingal." This silenced any further argument on Barny's part. Where Fingal lay was all Greek to him; but, unwilling to admit his ignorance, he covered his retreat with the usual address of his countrymen, and turned the bitterness of debate into the cordial flow of congratulation at seeing his cousin again. The liquor was freely circulated, and the conver-sation began to take a different turn, in order to lead from that which had nearly ended in quarrel between O'Reirdon and his relation. The state of the crops, county cess, road jobs, &c., became topics, and many strictures as to the utility of the latter were indulged in, while the merits of the neighboring farmers were canvassed.. Why thin," said one," that field o'whate o' Michael Coghlan, is the finest field o' whate mortal eyes was ever set upon-divil the likes iv it myself ever seen far or near." 66 Seated one night at a public house, the common resort of Barny and other marine curiosities, our hero got entangled in debate with what he called a strange sail-that is to say, a man he had never met before, and whom he was inclined to treat rather magisterially upon nautical subjects, at the same time that the stranger was equally inclined to “Throth thin, sure enough," said another, "it assume the high hand over him, till at last the new-promises to be a fine crap anyhow, and myself can't comer made a regular outbreak by exclaiming, help thinkin' it quare, that Mickee Coghlan, that 's "Ah, tare-an-ouns, lave off your balderdash, Mr. a plain-spoken, quite (quiet) man, and simple like, O'Reirdon, by the powdhers of war it 's enough, so should have finer craps than Pether Kelly o' the it is, to make a dog bate his father, to hear you big farm beyant, that knows all about the great goin an as if you wor Curlumberus or Sir Crusty-saycrets of the airth, and is knowledgeable, to a CCCLXXX. LIVING AGE. VOL. XXX. 25 degree, and has all the hard words that iver was | You see the ingineer goes down undher the wather coined at his fingers' ends." "Faith, he has a power o' blasthogue about him sure enough," said the former speaker, "if that could do him any good, but he isn't fit to howld a candle to Michael Coghlan in the regard o' farmin'." "Why, blur an agers," rejoined the upholder of science," sure he met the Scotch steward that the lord beyant has, one day, that I hear is a wondherful edicated man, and was brought over here to show us all a patthern-well, Pether Kelly met him one day, and by gor he discoorsed him to that degree that the Scotch chap had n't a word left in his jaw." "Well, and what was he the betther o' having more prate than a Scotchman?" asked the other. “Why," answered Kelly's friend, “I think it stands to rayson that the man that done out the Scotch steward ought to know somethin' more about farmin' than Mickee Coghlan." "Augh! don't talk to me about knowing," said the other, rather contemptuously. "Sure I gev in to you that he has a power o' prate, and the gift o' the gab, and all to that. I own to you that he has the the-o-ry and the che-mis-thery, but he has not the craps. Now the man that has the craps, is the man for my money." "You're right, my boy," said O'Reirdon, with an approving thump of his brawny fist on the table, "it's a little talk goes far-doin' is the thing.' "Ah, yiz may run down larnin' if yiz like," said the undismayed stickler for theory versus practice, "but larnin' is a fine thing, and sure where would the world be at all only for it, sure where would the staymers (steam boats) be, only for larnin'?"" "Well," said O Reirdon, " and the divil may care if we never seen them; I'd rather dipind an wind and canvass any day than the likes o' them. What are they good for, but to turn good sailors into kitchen maids, all as one, bilin' a big pot o' wather and oilin' their fire-irons, and throwin' coals on the fire? Augh! thim staymers is a disgrace to the say; they're for all the world like old fogies, smokin' from mornin' till night and doin' no good." "Do you call it doing no good to go faster nor ships iver went before ?" "Pooh! sure Solomon, queen o' Sheba, said there was time enough for all things." Well, maybe you'll own to the improvemint they're makin' in the harbor o' Howth, beyant in Dublin, is some good." "We'll see whether it'll be an improvement first," said the obdurate O'Reirdon. 66 'Why, man alive, sure you'll own it's the greatest o' good, it is takin up the big rocks out o' the bottom o' the harbor." "Well, an' where 's the wondher o' that? sure we done the same here." "Oh yis, but it was whin the tide was out and the rocks was bare; but up in Howth they cut away the big rocks from under the say intirely." "Oh, be aisy; why, how could they do that?" "Aye, there's the matther, that's what larnin' can do; and wondherful it is entirely! and the way it is, is this, as I hear it, for I never seen it, but hard it described by the lord to some gintlemin and ladies one day in his garden while I was helpin' the gardener to land some salary (celery.) intirely, and can stay there as long as he plazes." "Whoo! and what o' that? Sure I heerd the long sailor say, that come from the Aysthern Ingees, that ingineers there can a'most live undher wather; and goes down lookin' for dimonds, and has a sledge hammer in their hand brakein' the dimonds when they 're too big to take them up whole, all as one as men brakein' stones an the road." "Well, I don't want to go beyant that, but the way the lord's ingineer goes down is, he has a little bell wid him, and while he has that little bell to ring, hurt nor harm can't come to him." "Arrah be aisy." "Divil a lie in it." Ah, nothin's unpossible to God." "Sure I wasn't denyin' that; but I say the bell is unpossible.' "Why," said O'Sullivan, "you see he's not altogether complate in the demonstheration o' the mashine; it is not by the ringin' o' the bell it is done, but "But what?" broke in O'Reirdon impatiently, "do you mane for to say there is a bell in it at all at all?" "Yes I do," said O'Sullivan. "I towld you so," said the promulgator of the story. "Aye," said O'Sullivan, "but it is not by the ringin' iv the bell it is done." "Well, how is it done then?" said the other, with a half-offended half-supercilious air. "It is done," said O'Sullivan, as he returned the look, with interest, "it is done intirely by jommethry." "Oh! I undherstan' it now," said O'Reirdon, with an inimitable affectation of comprehension in the Oh!" but to talk of the ringin' iv a bell doin' the like is beyant the beyants intirely, barrin', as I said before, it was a blessed bell, glory be to God!" "And so you tell me, sir, it is jommethry," said the twice discomfited man of science. 66 'Yes, sir," said O'Sullivan, with an air of triumph, which rose in proportion as he saw he carried the listeners along with him-" jommethry." "Well, have it your own way. There's them what won't hear rayson sometimes, nor have belief in larnin'; and you may say it's joinmethry if you plaze; but I heerd them that knows betther than iver you knew say 66 Whisht, whisht! and bad cess to you both," said O'Reirdon," what the dickens are yiz goin' to fight about now, and sitch good liquor before yiz? Hillo! there, Mrs. Quigly, bring uz another quart i' you plaze; aye, that's the chat, another quart. Augh! yiz may talk till you're black in the face about your invintions, and your staymers, and bell *There is a relic in the possession of the Macnamara family, in the county Clare, called the "blessed bell of the Macnamaras," sometimes used as to swear upon in cases of extreme urgency, in preference to the testament; for a violation of truth, when sworn upon the blessed bell, is looked upon by the peasantry as a sacrilege, placing the offender beyond the pale of salvation. ringin', and gash, and railroads; but here's long life and success to the man that invinted the impairil (imperial) quart;* that was the rail beautiful invintion"-and he took a long pull at the replenished vessel, which strongly indicated that the increase of its dimensions was a very agreeable measure to such as Barny. After the introduction of this and other quarts, it would not be an easy matter to pursue the conversation that followed. Let us therefore transfer our story to the succeeding morning, when Barny O'Reirdon strolled forth from his cottage, rather ater than usual, with his eyes bearing eye-witness o the carouse of the preceding night. He had not a headache, however; whether it was that Barny was too experienced a campaigner under the banners of Bacchus, or that Mrs. Quigley's boast was a just one, namely, that of all the drink in her house," there was n't a headache in a hogshead of it," we cannot determine, but we rather incline to the strength of Barny's head. The above-quoted declaration of Mrs. Quigley is the favorite inducement held out by every boon companion in Ireland at the head of his own table. "Don't be afraid of it, my boys! it's the right sort. There's not a headache in a hogshead of it." he did not long indulge in that notion. No; he would stay," in spite of all the O'Sullivan's, kith and kin, breed, seed, and generation.” But at the same time he knew he should never hear the end of that hateful place, Fingal; and if Barny had had the power, he would have enacted a penal statute making it death to name the accursed spot, wherever it was; but, not being gifted with such legislative authority, he felt that Kinsale was no place for him, if he would not submit to be flouted every hour out of the four and twenty, by man, woman, and child that wished to annoy him. What was to be done? He was in the perplexing situation, to use his own words, "of the cat in the thripe shop," he didn't know which way to choose. At last, after turning himself over in the sun several times, a new idea struck him. Couldn't he go to Fingal himself? and then he'd be equal to that upstart, O'Sullivan. No sooner was the thought engendered than Barny sprang to his feet a new man; his eye brightened, his step became once more elastic, he walked erect and felt himself to be all over Barny O'Reirdon once more." Richard was himself again." But where was Fingal?-there was the rub. That was a profound mystery to Barny, which, until discovered, must hold him in the vile bondage of inferiority. The plain-dealing reader will say, This sentiment has been very seductively rendered by Moore, with the most perfect unconsciousness on his part of the likeness he was instituting." could n't he ask?" No, no; that would never Who does not remember Friend of my soul, this goblet sip, 'T will chase the pensive tear; 'Tis not so sweet as woman's lip, But oh, 't is more sincere. Like her delusive beam, 'T will steal away the mind, But, like affection's dream, It leaves no sting behind. Is not this very elegantly saying "there's not a headache in a hogshead of it?" But we are forgetting our story all this time. Barny sauntered about in the sun, at which he often looked up, under the shelter of compressed bushy brows and long-lashed eyelids and a shadowing hand across his forehead, to see "what time o' day" it was, and from the frequency of this action it was evident the day was hanging heavily with Barny. He retired at last to a sunny nook in a neighboring field, and, stretching himself at full length, he basked in the sun, and began "to chew the cud of sweet and bitter thought." He first reflected on his own undoubted weight in his little community, but still he could not get over the annoyance of the preceding night, arising from his being silenced by O'Sullivan, "a chap," as he said himself," that lift the place four years agon, a brat iv a boy, and to think iv his comin' back and outdoin' his elders, that saw him runnin' about the place, a gassoon, that one could tache a few months before;"'t was too bad. Barny saw his reputation was in a ticklish position, and began to consider how his disgrace could be retrieved. The very name of Fingal was hateful to him; it was a plague spot on his peace that festered there incurably. He first thought of leaving Kinsale altogether; but flight implied so much of defeat, that * Until the assimilation of currency, weights and measures between England and Ireland, the Irish quart was a much smaller measure than the English. This part of the assimilation pleased Pat exceedingly, and he has no anxiety to have that repealed. do for Barny-that would be an open admission of ignorance his soul was above, and, consequently, Barny set his brains to work, to devise measures of coming at the hidden knowledge by some circuitous route, that would not betray the end he was working for. To this purpose, fifty stratagems were raised and demolished in half as many minutes, in the fertile brain of Barny, as he strided along the shore, and as he was working hard at the fifty-first, it was knocked all to pieces by his jostling against some one whom he never perceived was approaching him, so immersed was he in his speculations, and, on looking up, who should it prove to be but his friend "the long sailor from the Aysthern Injees." This was quite a god-send to Barny, and much beyond what he could have hoped for. Of all the men under the sun, the long sailor was the man in a million for Barny's net at that minute, and accordingly he made a haul of him, and thought it the greatest catch he ever made in his life. Barny and the long sailor were in close companionship for the remainder of the day, which was closed, as the preceding one, in a carouse; but, on this occasion, there was only a duet performance in honor of the jolly god, and the treat was at Barny's expense. What the nature of their conversation Instead during the period was, we will not dilate on-we will keep it as profound a secret as Barny himself did, and content ourselves with saying that Barny looked a much happier man the next day. of wearing his hat slouched and casting his eyes on the ground, he walked about with his usual unconcern, and gave his nod and passing word of "civilitude" to every friend he met; he rolled his quid of tobacco about in his jaw with an air of superior enjoyment, and, if disturbed in his narcotic amusement by a question, he took his own good time to eject" the leprous distilment," before he answered the querist with a happy composure that bespoke a man quite at ease with himself. It was in this agreeable spirit that Barny bent his course to the house of Peter Kelly, the owner of the "big farm beyant," before alluded to, in order to put in practice a plan he had formed for the fulfilment of his de- | potatoes or scalpeens, so long as he had the honor termination of rivalling O'Sullivan. and glory of becoming a navigator and being as good as O'Sullivan. Accordingly the boat was laden and all got in ,"readiness for putting to sea, and nothing was now wanting but Barny's orders to haul up the gaff and shake out the jib of his hooker. He thought it probable that Peter Kelly, being one of the "snuggest" men in the neighborhood, would be a likely person to join him in a 66 spec, as he called it, (a favorite abbreviation of his for the word speculation,) and, accordingly, when he reached the "big farm-house" he accosted its owner with the usual "God save you." "God save you kindly, Barny," returned Peter Kelly, an what is it brings you here Barny?" asked Peter, "this fine day, instead o' bein' out in the boat?" 66 "Oh, I'll be out in the boat soon enough, and it's far enough too I'll be in her; an' indeed it's partly that same is bringin' me here to yourself." 66 "Why, do you want me to go along wid you, Barny ?"5 "Throth an I don't, Mr. Kelly. You're a knowledgeable man on land, but I'm afeard it's a bad bargain you'd be at say." "And what wor you talking about me and your boat for?" "Why, you see, sir, it was in the regard of a little bit o' business, an' if you'd come wid me and take a turn in the praty field, I 'll be behouldin to you, and may be you'll hear somethin that won't be displazing to you." "An welkim, Barny," said Peter Kelly. When Barny and Peter were in the praty field," Barny opened the trenches (I don't mean the potato trenches) but, in military parlance, he opened the trenches and laid siege to Peter Kelly, setting forth the extensive profits that had been realized by various "specs" that had been made by his neighbors in exporting potatoes, " and sure,' said Barny," why should n't you do the same, and they here ready to your hand, as much as to say why don't you profit by me, Pether Kelly? and the boat is below there in the harbor, and I'll say this much, the divil a better boat is betune this and herself." go “Well, all I can say is, I niver seen you afeard to to say before." "Who says I'm afeard?" said O'Reirdon; "you'd betther not say that agin, or in throth I'll give you a letherin that won't be for the good o' your health-throth for three sthraws this minit I'd lave you that your own mother would n't know you with the lickin' I'd give you; but I scorn your "dirty insinuation; no man ever seen Barny afeard yet, anyhow. Howld your prate, I tell you, and look up to your betthers. What do you know iv navigation ?-may be you think it's as azy for to sail an a voyage as to go a start fishin," and Barny turned on his heel and left the shore. "Indeed, I b'lieve so, Barny,” said Peter, " for considhering where we stand, at this present, there's no boat at all at all betune us," and Peter laughed with infinite pleasure at his own hit. "Oh! well, you know what I mane, anyhow, an' as I said before, the boat is a darlint boat, and as for him that commands her-I b'lieve I need say nothin' about that," and Barny gave a toss of his head and a sweep of his open hand, more than doubling the laudatory nature of his comment on himself. 66 But, as the Irish saying is, "to make a long story short," Barny prevailed on Peter Kelly to make an export, but in the nature of the venture they did not agree. Barny had proposed potatoes; Peter said there were enough of them already where he was going, and Barny rejoined that 'praties were so good in themselves there never could be too much o' thim anywhere." But Peter being a knowledgeable man, and up to all the saycrets o' the airth, and understanding the the-o-ry and the che-misthery," overruled Barny's proposition, and determined upon a cargo of scalpeens, (which name they give to pickled mackerel,) as a preferable merchandise, quite forgetting that Dublin bay herrings were a much better and as cheap a commodity, at the command of the Fingalians. But by many similar mistakes the ingenious Mr. Kelly has been paralleled by other speculators. But that is neither here nor there, and it was all one to Barny whether his boat was freighted with The next day passed, without the hooker sailing, and Barny gave a most sufficient reason for the delay by declaring that he had a warnin' given him in a dhrame, (glory be to God!) and that it was given to him to understand. (undher Heaven) that it would n't be looky, that day. Well, the next day was Friday; and Barny, o course, would not sail any more than any other sailor who could help it on this unpropitious day. On Saturday, however, he came running in a great hurry down to the shore, and, jumping aboard, he gave orders to make all sail, and, taking the helm of the hooker, he turned her head to the sea, and soon the boat was cleaving the blue waters with a velocity seldom witnessed in so small a craft, and scarcely conceivable to those who have not seen the speed of a Kinsale hooker. 66 Why thin you tuk the notion mighty suddint, Barny," said the fisherman next in authority to O'Reirdon, as soon as the bustle of getting the boat under way had subsided. 66 Well, I hope its plazin' to you at last," said Barny, "throth one 'ud think you were niver at say before you wor in sitch a hurry to be off; as newfangled a'most as a child with a play-toy.' "Well," said the other of Barny's companions, for there were but two with him in the boat, "I was thinkin' myself, as well as Jimmy, that we lost two fine days for nothin,' and we'd be there a'most, may be, now, if we sail'd three days agon.' "Don't b'lieve it," said Barny, emphatically. |