in the mim'ry av livin' man! You look to that little orf'cer bhoy. He
has bowils. 'Tis not ivry child that wud chuck the Rig'lations to
Flanders an' stretch Peg Barney on a wink from a brokin an' dilapidated
ould carkiss like mesilf. I'd be proud to serve--'

'Terence, you're a civilian,' said Dinah Shadd warningly.

'So I am--so I am. Is ut likely I wud forget ut? But he was a gran'
bhoy all the same, an' I'm only a mud-tipper wid a hod on my shoulthers.
The whiskey's in the heel av your hand, Sorr. Wid your good lave we'll
dhrink to the Ould Rig'mint--three fingers--standin' up!'

And we drank.




THE WRECK OF THE VISIGOTH

[Footnote: 1895]

'Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidst the mighty ocean keep
Its own appointed limits deep.'

The lady passengers were trying the wheezy old harmonium in front of
the cuddy, because it was Sunday night. In the patch of darkness near
the wheel-grating sat the Captain, and the end of his cheroot burned
like a head-lamp. There was neither breath nor motion upon the waters