was out and the rocks was bare; but "Aye, there's the matther, that's what larnin' can do ; and wondherful it is intirely! 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 where I was helpin' the gardener to land some salary (celery). You see the ingineer goes down undher the wather 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 the 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." 'Aye," said Ŏ'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! 66 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. "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 wont hear: rayson sometimes, nor have belief in larnin'; and you may say its jommethry if you plaze; but I heerd them that knows betther than said iver you knew say 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 cant come to him." “Arrah be aisy." "Divil a lie in it." "Maybe its a blessed bell," O'Reirdon, crossing himself.* "No, it is not a blessed bell." "Why thin now do you think me sitch a born nat'hral as to give in to that; as if the ringin' iv a bell, barrin' it was a blessed bell, could do the like. I tell you its unpossible." "Ah, nothin's unpossible to God." Sure I was'nt 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 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 youre black in the face about your invintions, and your staymers, and bell ringin', and gash, and rail roads; 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 There is a relic in the possession of the Macnamara family, in the county Clare, called the "blessed bell of the Macnamara's," sometimes used 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. 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. 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 later than usual, with his eyes bearing eye-witness to the carouse of the preceding night. He had not a head-ache, 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 wasn't a head-ache 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 favourite inducement held out by every born 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 head-ache in a hogshead of it." This sentiment has been very seductively rendered by Moore, with the most perfect unconsciousness on his part of the likeness he was instituting. Who does not remember "Friend of my soul this goblet sip, "Twill steal away the mind, It leaves no sting behind.” Is not this very elegantly saying "there's not a head-ache 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 neighbouring 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 preced ing 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;" 'twas 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 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 Kinsale was no place for him, if he would not submit to be flouted every hour out of the fourand-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 did'nt know which way to choose. At last, after turning himself over in the sun several times, a new idea struck him. Could'nt 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, "couldn't he ask?" No, no; that would never 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 during the period was, we will not dilate onwe will keep it as profound a secret as Barny himself did, and content our selves with saying, that Barny looked a much happier man the next day. Instead 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 leperous 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 determination of rivalling O'Sullivan. He thought it probable that Peter Kelly, being one of the "snuggest" men in the neighbourhood, would be a likely person to join him in a "spec" as he called it, (a favourite abbreviation of his for the word speculation,) and accordingly, when he reached the "big farmhouse" he accosted its owner with the usual God save you." "God save 66 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 ?" "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?" "Throth an I don't, Mr. Kelly. You're a knowledgeable man an 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" Barry 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 neighbours in exporting potatoes, "and sure," said Barney, "why shouldn'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 harbour, and I'll say this much, the divil a betther boat is betune this and herself." "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, any how, 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. 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 any where." 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 mackarel) as a preferable merchandize, 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 potatoes or scalpeens, so long as he had the honor 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. But this order Barny refrained to give, and for the first time in his life exhibited a disinclination to leave the shore. One of his fellow-boatmen, at last, said to him, "Why thin Barny O'Reirdon, what the divil is come over you, at all at all? What's the maynin' of your loitherin' about here, and the boat ready and a lovely fine breeze aff o' the land ?" "Oh never you mind; I b'lieve I know my own business any how, an' its hard, so it is, if a man can't ordher his own boat to sail, when he plazes." "Oh, I was only thinkin' it quareand a pity more betoken, as I said before, to lose the beautiful breeze, and 46 Well, just keep your thoughts to yourself, i' you plaze, and stay in the boat as I bid you, and don't be out of her, on your apperl, by no manner o' manes for one minit, for you see I don't know when it may be plazin' to me to go aboord an' set sail." "Well, all I can say is, I never seen you afeard to go 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 leatherin 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'nt know you with the lickin' I'd give you; but I scorn your dirty insiniuation; no man ever seen Barny O'Reirdon 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 aizy for to sail an a voyage as to go a start fishin," and Barny turned on his heel and left the shore. 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 wouldn't be looky, that day. Well, the next day was Friday; and Barny, of 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 never 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. "Now don't you know yourself that there is some days that the fish won't come near the lines at all, and that we might as well be castin' our nets an the dhry land as in the say, for all we'll catch, if we start an an unlooky day, and sure I towld you I was waitin' only till I had it given to me to undherstan' that it was looky to sail, and I go bail we'll be there sooner than if we started three days agon, for if you don't start, with good look before you, faix may be it's never at all to the end o' your thrip you'll come." "Well there's no use in talkin' about it now, anyhow, but when do you expec' to be there?" "Why you see we must wait antil we see how the wind is like to howld an, before I can make up my mind to that." “But you're sure now, Barny, that you're up to the coorse you have to run." "See now, lay me alone and don't be crass-questionin' me-tare an ouns do you think me sitch a bladdherang as for to go shuperinscribe a thing I wasn't aiquil to?" No; I was only goin' to ax you what coorse you wor goin' to steer?" "You'll find out soon enough when we get there-and so I bid you agin' lay ine alone-just keep your toe in your pump. Sure I'm here at the helm, and a woight an my mind, and its fitter for you, Jim, to mind your own business and lay me to mind mine; away wid you there and be handy, haul taught that foresheet there, we must run close an the wind; be handy boys; make every thing dhraw." These orders were obeyed, and the hooker soon passed to windward of a ship that left the harbour before her, but could not hold on a wind with the same tenacity as the hooker, whose qualities in this peculiarity, render them particularly suitable for the purposes to which they are applied, namely, pilot and fishing boats. We have said a ship left the harbour before the hooker had set sail, and it is now fitting to inform the reader that Barny had contrived, in the course of his last meeting with the "long sailor," to ascertain that this ship, then lying in the harbour, was going to the very place Barny wanted to reach.Barny's plan of action was decided upon in a moment: he had now nothing to do but to watch the sailing of the ship and follow in her course. Here was, at once, a new mode of navigation discovered. The stars, twinkling in mysterious brightness, through the silent gloom of night, were the first encouraging, because visible guides to the adventurous mariners of antiquity. Since then, the sailor, encouraged by a bolder science, relies on the unseen agency of nature, depending on the fidelity of an atom of iron to the mystic law that claims its homage in the north. This is one refinement of science upon another. But the beautiful simplicity of Barny O'Reirdon's philosophy cannot be too much admired. To follow the ship that is going to the same place. Is not this navigation made easy? But Barny, like many a great man before him, seemed not to be aware of how much credit he was entitled to for his invention, for he did not divulge to his companions the originality of his proceeding; he wished them to believe he was only proceeding in the commonplace manner, and had no ambition to be distinguished as the happy projector of so simple a practice. For this purpose he went to windward of the ship and then fell off again, allowing her to pass him, as he did not wish even those on board the ship to suppose he was following in their wake, for Barny, like all people that are quite full of one scheme, and fancy every body is watching them, dreaded lest any one should fathom his motives. All that day Barny held on the same course as his leader, keeping at a respectful distance, however, "for fear 'twould look like dodging her," as he said to himself, but as night closed in, so closed in Barny with the ship, and kept a sharp look-out that she should not give him the slip in the dark. The next morning dawned, and found the hooker and ship companions still; and thus matters proceeded for four days, during the entire of which time they had not seen land since their first losing sight of it, although the weather was clear. 66 By my sowl," thought Barny, "the channel must be mighty wide in these parts, and for the last day or so we've been goin' purty free with a flowin' sheet, and I wondher we are'nt closin' in wid the shore by this time; or may be it's farther off than I thought it was." His companions, too, began to question Barny on the subject, but to their queries he presented an impenetrable front of composure, and said, "it was always the best plan to keep a good bowld offin'." In two days more, however, the weather began to be sensibly warmer, and Barny and his companions remarked that it was goin' to be the finest sayson-God bless it-that ever kem out o' the skies for many a long year, and maybe it's |