lying there those three hours on your face, and not a stir out o' ye?"

"You're very kind," I said, dusting the bean-dust off my trousers, and I
suppose I looked a little puzzled, for the old woman (helping me by
flicking at my sleeve) went on: "I'll not deceive ye, my dear. It was my
own Micky that was on my mind; though now you've lifted your face,
barring the colour of his hair, there's no likeness betwixt ye, and I'm
the disappointed woman again, GOD help me!"

"Is Micky your son?" I asked.

"He is, and a better child woman never had, till he tired of everything
I would do for him, being always the boy for a change, and went for a
stowaway from this very port."

"Sit down, Mother; stowaways are lads that hide on board ship, and get
taken to sea for nothing, aren't they?"

"They are, darlin'; but it's not for nothing they get kept at sea, ye
may take your oath. And many's the one that leaves this in the highest
of expictations, and is glad enough to get back to it in a tattered
shirt and a whole skin, and with an increase of contintment under the
ways of home upon his mind."

"And you hope Micky'll come back, I suppose?"

"Why wouldn't I, acushla? Sure it was by reason o' that I got bothered
with the washin' after me poor boy left me, from my mind being
continually in the docks, instead of with the clothes. And there I would
be at the end of the week, with the Captain's jerseys gone to old Miss