"Confound your thick head!" said the captain, "Why, what an ignoramus you must be not to know what a compass is, and you at sea all your life? Do you even know the cardinal points?"

"The cardinals? faix an' it's a great respect I have for thim, your honor. Sure, ar'n't they belongin' to the pope?" "Confound you, you blockhead!" roared the captain, in a rage-"'t would take the patience of the pope and the cardinals, and the cardinal virtues into the bargain, to keep one's temper with you. Do you know the four points of the wind?"

"I do, and more."

Well, never mind more, but let us stick to four. You're sure you know the four points of the wind?"

66

By dad, it would be a quare thing if a sayfarin' man didn't know something about the wind, anyhow." By gor, I know as much o' the wind a'most as a pig."

"Indeed I believe so," laughed out the captain.

'Oh, you may laugh if you plaze, and I see by the same that you don't know about the pig, with all your edication, captain."

"Well, what about the pig ?"

Well, Paddy," said the captain, after trying to persuade him to come along with the ship, "as you are determined to go back in spite of all I can say, you must attend to me while I give you as simple instructions as I can. You say you know the four points of the wind, north, south, east and

Why, you see, sir, the sun, God bless it, rises in the aist, and sets in the west, which stands to raison; and whin you stand bechuxt the aist and the west, the north is forninst you.'

"And when the north is forninst you, as you say, is the east on your right, or your left hand?"

"On the right hand, your honor."

66 Well, I see you know that much, bowever. Now," said the captain, "the moment you leave the ship, you must steer a nor-east course, and you will make some land, near home, in about a week, if the wind holds as it is now, and it is likely to do so; but mind me, if you turn out of your course in the smallest degree, you are

"I can't say that I did."

"Oh, thin he does, and for that rayson who has a right to know more about it ?" "You don't for one, I dare say, Paddy; and maybe you have a pig aboard to give you information."

"Sorra taste, your honor, not as much as a rasher o' bacon; but it's maybe your honor never seen a pig tossin' up his snout, consaited like, and running like mad afore a storm."

66

Many thanks to your honor!" "And how are you off for provisions?" "Why, thin, indeed, in the regard o' that same, we are in the hoighth o' distress, for, exceptin' the scalpeens, sorra taste passed our lips for these four days."

"Oh! you poor devils!" said the commander, in a tone of sincere commiseration, "I'll order you some provisions on board before you start."

"Long life to your honor! and I'd like to drink the health of so noble a jintle

"I understand you, Paddy, you shall have grog, too!"

"Musha, the heavens shower blessins an you, I pray the Virgin Mary, and the twelve apostles, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, not forgettin' St. Pathrick.'

"Thank you, Paddy; but keep all your prayers for yourself, for you need them all to help you home again.

"Oh! never fear whin the thing is to be done, I'll do it, by dad, wid a heart and a half."

"Now, then, Barny, the sooner you turn

Don't mind praying for me till you get home, Barny! but answer me, how are you to steer when you shall leave me?"

The nor-aist coorse, your honor; that's the coorse agin the world."

"Remember that! never alter that course till you see land-let nothing make you turn out of a nor-east course."

"Throth an' that id be a dirty turn, seein' that 't was yourself that ordered it. Oh, no, I'll depend my life an the nor-aist coorse, and God help any one that comes betune me an' it—I'd run him down if he was my father."

"Well, good-bye, Barny."

Good-bye, and God bless you, your honor, and send you safe."

"That's a wish you want more for yourself, Barny-never fear for me, but mind yourself well."

"Oh sure I'm as good as at home wanst I know the way' barrin' the wind is conthrary sure the nor-aist coorse 'ill do the business complate ' And so saying, Barny descended the ship's side, and once more assumed the helm of the "hardy hooker."

The two vessels now separated on their opposite courses. What a contrast their relative situations afforded. Proudly the ship bore away under her lofty and spreading canvass, cleaving the billows before her, manned by an able crew, and under the guidance of experienced officers-the finger of science to point the course of her progress, the faithful chart to warn her of the hidden rock, and the shoal, the log line and the quadrant to measure her march and prove her position. The poor little hooker cleft not the billows; each wave lifted her on its crest like a sea-bird; but three inexperienced fishermen to manage her; no certain means to guide them over the vast ocean they had to traverse, and the holding of the "fickle wind" the only chance of their escape from perishing in the wilderness of waters. By the one, the feeling excited is supremely that of man's power. By the other of his utter helplessness. To the one, the expanse of ocean could scarcely be considered "trackless." To the other, it was a waste indeed.

Yet the cheer that burst from the ship at parting was answered as gaily from the hooker as though the odds had not been so fearfully against her, and no blither heart beat on board the ship than that of Barny O'Reirdon.

Happy light-heartedness of my poor countrymen! they have often need of all their buoyant spirits! How kindly have they been fortified by nature against the assaults of adversity; and if they blindly rush into danger, they cannot be denied the possession of gallant hearts to fight their way out of it if they can.

But each hurrah became less audible. By degrees the cheers dwindled into faintness, and, finally were lost in the eddies of the breeze.

The sense of utter loneliness and desolation had not come upon Barney until now; but he put his trust in the goodness of Providence, and, in a fervent inward out-pouring of prayer, resigned himself to the care of his Creator.

The night fell, and Barny stuck to the helm as long as nature could sustain want of rest, and then left it in charge of one of his companions, with particular directions how to steer, and ordered, if any change in the wind occurred, that they should instantly awake him. He could not sleep long, however; the fever of anxiety was upon him, and the morning had not long dawned when he awoke. He had not well rubbed his eyes and looked about him, when he thought he saw a ship in the distance approaching them. As the haze cleared away, she showed distinctly bearing down towards the hooker. On board the ship, the hooker, in such a sea, caused surprise as before, and in about an hour she was so close as to hail, and ordered the hooker to run under her lee.

"The divil a taste," said Barny, "I'll not quit my nor-aist coorse for the king of Ingland, nor Bonyparty into the bargain. Bad cess to you, do you think I've nothing to do but to plaze you?"

Again he was hailed, and fired at, but he preserved his course, and got clear off.

The third day Barny's fears for the continuity of his nor-aist-coorse were excited, as a large brig hove in sight, and the nearer she approached, the more directly she came athwart Barny's course.

"May the divil sweep you," said Barny, "and will nothin' else sarve you than comin' forminst me that-a-way. Brig-ahoy,

there!" shouted Barny, giving the tiller to one of his messmates, and standing at the bow of his boat. "Brig-ahoy, there! Bad luck to you; go 'long out o' my nor-aist coorse." The brig, instead of obeying his mandate, hove to, and lay right ahead of the hooker. "Oh look at this," shouted Barny, and he stamped on the deck with rage "look at the blackguards where they're stayin', just a-purpose to ruin an unfort'nate man like me. My heavy hathred to you; quit this minit, or I'll run down an yez; and if we go to the bottom, we'll hant you for ever more-go 'long out o' that, I tell you. The curse o' Crummil an you, you stupid vagabones, that won't go out in a

man's nor-aist coorse!!"

From cursing Barny went to praying as he came closer" For the tendher mercy o' heavin, and leave my way. May the Lord reward you, and get you out o' my nor-aist coorse! May angels make your bed in heavin, and don't ruinate me this a-way." The brig was immovable, and Barny gave up in despair, having cursed and prayed himself hoarse, and finished with a duet volley of prayers and curses together, apostrophising the hard case of a man being "done out of his nor-aist coorse."

"To be sure we have; throth if we had n't, this 'd be a bad place to go a beggin'." "What have you eatable?" "The finest o' scalpeens." "What are scalpeens?"

"Why, you 're mighty ignorant, intirely," said Barny, "why, scalpeens is pickled mackarel."

"Then you must give us some, for we have been out of everything eatable these three days, and even pickled fish is better than nothing."

It chanced that the brig was a West India trader, that unfavorable winds had delayed much beyond the expected period of time on her voyage, and though her water had not failed, everything eatable had been consumed, and the crew reduced almost to helplessness. In such a strait, the arrival of Barny O'Reirdon and his scalpeens was a most providential succor to them, and a lucky chance for Barny, for he got in exchange for his pickled fish a handsome return of rum and sugar, much more than

equivalent to their value. Barny lamented much, however, that the brig was not bound for Ireland; that he might practice his own peculiar system of navigation; but as staying with the brig could do no good, he got himself put into his nor-aist coorse once more, and ploughed away towards home.

The disposal of his cargo was great good luck to Barny in more ways than one. In the first place he found the most profitable market he could have had; and, secondly, it enabled him to cover his retreat from the difficulty which was still before him, of not getting to Fingal, after all his dangers, and, consequently, being open to discovery and disgrace. All these beneficial results were not thrown away upon one of Barny's readiness to avail himself of every point in his favor; and, accordingly, when they left the brig, Barny said to his companions, "Why, thin, boys, 'pon my conscience but I'm as proud as a horse wid a wooden leg this minit, that we met them poor unfort'nate craythers this blessed day, and was enabled to extend our charity to them. Sure an' it's lost they'd be only for our comin' across them, and we, through the blessin' o' God, enabled to do an act of mercy, that is feedin' the hungry; and sure every good work we do here is before us in heaven-and that's a comfort, anyhow. To be sure, now that the scalpeens is sowld, there's no use in going to Fingal, and we may as well jist go home. To the divil now wid Terry O'Sullivan, what does he know what's an ilegant place? What knowledge has he of iligance? I'll go bail he never was half as far a navigatin" as we - he wint the short cut, I go bail, and never daur'd for to vinture the round, as I did.

Nothing particular occurred for the two succeeding days, during which time Barny most religiously pursued his nor-aist coorse, but the third day produced a new and important event. A sail was discovered on the horizon, and in the direction Barny was steering, and a couple of hours made him tolerably certain that the vessel in sight was an American; for, though it is needless to say, he was not very conversant in such matters, yet from the frequency of his seeing Americans trading to Ireland, his eye had become sufficiently accustomed to their lofty and tapering spars, and peculiar smartness of rig, to satisfy him that the ship before him was of transatlantic build: nor was he wrong in his conjecture.

Barny now determined on a manœuvre,

classing him amongst the first tacticians at | securing a good retreat. He calculated the American was bound for Ireland, and as she lay almost as directly in the way of his nor-aist coorse, as the West Indian brig he bore up to and spoke her.

He was answered by a shrewd Yankee captain.

Faix, an' it's glad I am to see your honor agin," said Barny.

The Yankee had never been to Ireland, and told Barny so, and that a pilot was wanted for Cove.

You know Cove?" said the American. "Is it the Cove o' Cork, why?" "Yes."

"I was bred an' born there, and pilots as many ships into Cove as any other two min out of it."

Barny thus sheltered his falsehood under the idiom of his language.

"But what brought you so far out to sea?" asked the captain.

"We wor lyin' out lookin' for ships that wanted pilots, and there kem an the terriblest gale o' wind aff the land, an' blew us out to say intirely, an' that's the way iv it, your honor."

"I calculate we got a share of the same gale: 't was from the nor-east.

66

Oh, directly!" said Barny, "faith you're right enough, 't was the nor-aist coorse we wor an sure enough; but no matter now that we've met wid you-sure we 'll have a job home anyhow."

"Well, get aboard then," said the American.

"I will in a minit, your honor, when I just spake a word to my comrades here."

66

Why sure it's not goin' to turn pilot you are?" said Jemmy, in his simplicity of

let them disturb me until I'm wanted,-for sure till you see the land, there's no use for me in life, an' throth I want a sleep sorely."

Barny's request was granted, and it will not be wondered at, that after so much fatigue of mind and body, he slept profoundly for four and twenty hours. He then was called, for land was in sight; and when he came on deck, the captain rallied him upon the potency of his somniferous qualities, and "calculated" he had never met any one who could sleep "four and twenty hours on a stretch before."

Oh, sir," said Barny, rubbing his eyes, which were still a little hazy, "whiniver I go to sleep, I pay attention to it."

The land was soon neared, and Barny put in charge of the ship, when he ascertained the first land mark he was acquainted with; but as soon as the head of Kinsale hove in sight, Barny gave a 66 whoo," and cut a caper that astonished the Yankees, and was quite inexplicable to them, though, we flatter ourselves, it is not to those who do Barny the favor of reading his adventures.

"Oh! there you are, my darlint ould head! an' where's the head like you! throth it's little I thought I'd ever set eyes. on your good-looking faytures agin." In such half-muttered exclamations did Barny apostrophise each well-known point of his native shore, and, when opposite the harbor of Kinsale, he spoke the hooker, that was somewhat astern, and ordered Jemmy and Peter to put in there, and tell Molly immediately that he was come back, and would be with her as soon as he could after piloting the ship into Cove.

The Hooker put into Kinsale, and Barny sailed the ship into Cove. It was the first ship he had ever acted the pilot for, and his old luck attended him; no accident befel his charge, and, what was still more extraordinary, he made the American believe he was absolutely the most skilful pilot on the station. So Barny pocketed his pilot's fee, swore the Yankee was a gentleman, for which the Republican did not thank him, wished him good-bye, and then pushed his way home with what Barny swore was the easiest made money he ever had in his life. So Barny got himself paid for piloting the ship that showed him the way home.

MISERY loves company, and so does a marriageable young lady.

DICK SPARROW'S EVENING "OUT."

It was with a perceptible amount of nervous excitement that Mr. Richard Sparrow stood in superintendence, while an old fellow-the private watchman of the neighborhood-put up the shutters of the shop in which his father during so many years had carried on the business of a button-maker. This job done, the young gentleman hurriedly retreated to his own chamber, where he completed his evening toilet with as much expedition as is compatible with the nicest care, and whence he soon descended to the diningroom to receive that tribute of admiration from his Aunt Reddish, who was arranging the "tea-things," which the good lady never failed to pay, when a new vest or a stock of novel sprig or tie exacted it.

Our young friend Dick accepted this homage with laudable moderation, only murmuring a few words to the effect, that an "air distingwy" was something that was not readily attainable by all classes of people; and then, changing the subject, begged his aunt to give him an instant cup of tea, as his father would not return from the "Woolpack" for half an hour at least, whither the old gentleman had gone, to smoke his pipe.

"And so you're invited out to supper to Garton's?" remarked Aunt Reddish. "They live a great way off, don't they?"

"Delta Villas, Bellevue Road, somewhere between Camden Town and Islington," answered Dick. "I shall know the house by two great stone lions on each side of the door, that sit flanking the steps. But what do you think of old Garton inviting me to supper? Ain't I as fit as any one else I believe you too, to drink champagne, and cry Hip, hip, hurrah! Yes, and return thanks in a neat speech. I think I ought to stand a little higher in his estimation than cold meat and a glass of grog, now he's trying to hook me into marrying his daughter." "True; but your father says she's a nice girl, and has a bag full of money," suggested Mrs. Reddish.

"Yes; but mind you, Aunt, there are lots of nice girls, with lots o' tin, that go a-begging now-a-days,' ," returned Dick. Not but what," he added after a mo

ment, "I deeply and truly love Maria Wilcocks Garton." "Ah!" sighed Mrs. Reddish, "when two young hearts are tightly knit together,-when there's a harmony-"

"That reminds me," interrupted Dick, "of a capital thing I said yesterday. Prater looked in, and told me he was going to dine with Garton to-day, they're such old friends. But,' says he, 'you're not to suppose he gives this party because he's got into his new house. It's his weddingday that he means to keep.'-'Now, if that ain't fulsome, Prater,' said I. 'A man keep his wedding-day who's got a daughter old enough to be escorted up to the hymeneal altar!'-'Ah, but,' says he, Mr. and Mrs. Garton have been a very happy couple all their lives: they have, so help me Dunmow!' And he told me about the Dunmow flitch. You've heard of it Aunt, have you? Well,' says I,— for I was aggravated Prater should be asked to dinner, and I not, well, if the Dunmow flitch waited till they claimed it, it would be precious rusty. And,' I says, I'll lay a side o' Wiltshire to a rasher of streaky, never a week passes but they're at it, hammer and tongs.'"

"You were very wrong to talk in that manner to Mr. Prater, who is so particular a friend of the Gartons," observed Mrs. Reddish, shaking her head admonishingly, "especially now they're so likely to be related to you."

"D'ye think so?" answered Dick, laying down his tea-cup; "then I won't do so again."

Dick now drew his chair to the side of his aunt, and began expressively, but in haste, to stigmatize his father as an old screw, who would never let him have any tin; and as Mrs. Reddish officiated as the old gentleman's housekeeper, the topic was not disagreeable to her.

"Don't you think he's a most desperate and aggravating old citizen?" urged Dick. "Does n't he try to keep me as much back as he can? And does he care a button for me, although he's less cause to set a value on buttons than most men?"

Having obtained satisfactory replies to these queries, Dick hinted at the phthisicky state of his exchequer, and in his most insinuating manner besought the loan of four sovereigns, and his late uncle Reddish's highly-admired ring, the sovereigns merely to have about him, lest they