Paddy Finn | Page 4

didn't seem so much cast down as my uncle
supposed they would be. My father had just been wheeled out of his
chamber into the breakfast room, for he was suffering from an attack of
his sworn enemy.
"Keep up the honour of the O'Finnahans, my boy; and you'll only do
that by performing your duty," he said, patting me on the back,--for
shaking hands was a ceremony he was unwilling to venture on with his
gouty fingers.
My mother was later than usual. I hurried off to her room. As she
listened to my account her eyes were fixed on me till they became filled
with tears.
"You have chosen a rough life, Terence; but may God protect you," she
said, throwing her arms round my neck, and kissing my brow. "I could
not prevent your going even if I would, as your uncle has accepted
Captain Macnamara's offer; for a profession you must have, and it is a
fine one, I've no doubt. But wherever you go, my dear boy, remember
that the thoughts of those at home will be following you."
More she said to the same effect. When she at length released me, I

hurried out to tell Larry, Dan Bourke, and the rest of the domestics. At
first Larry looked very downcast; but when he heard that he was to go
too, he gave expression to his joy in a wild shout, which rang through
the kitchen. Biddy, the cook, and the other females were not so heroic
as my sisters, for they began to pipe their eyes in a way I couldn't stand,
so I ran off to the breakfast room; whether it was at the thoughts of
losing Larry or me, I didn't stop to consider. My speedy departure to
become a son of Neptune was the only subject of conversation during
the morning meal. It was agreed that to enable me to make a
respectable appearance on board His Majesty's frigate, I ought to be
provided with a uniform; and a message was despatched to Pat Cassidy,
the family tailor, to appear forthwith, and exercise his skill in
manufacturing the necessary costume. The major, who had frequently
been at sea, believed that he could give directions for shaping the
garments correctly; and as all were agreed that blue was the required
colour, he presented me with a cloth cloak, which, though it had seen
some service, was considered suitable for the purpose.
Pat Cassidy soon arrived with his shears and tape; and being installed
in a little room, where he was sure of not being interrupted, took my
measure, and set to work, under the major's directions, to cut out and
stitch a coat and breeches in what was considered approved nautical
fashion. The difficulty was the buttons; but my mother fortunately
discovered a moth-eaten coat and waistcoat of a naval lieutenant, a
relative, who had paid a visit to Castle Ballinahone many years before,
and, having been killed in action shortly afterwards, had never returned
to claim his garments. There being fewer buttons than the major
considered necessary, Pat Cassidy proposed eking them out with a few
military ones sewn on in the less conspicuous parts. Meantime, my
mother and sisters and the maids were as busily engaged in preparing
the rest of my kit, carrying off several of my brothers' shirts and
stockings, which they faithfully promised in due time to replace.
"Where there's a will there's a way," and before night, Pat Cassidy,
aided by the busy maids, had performed his task, as had my mother and
sisters theirs; and it was considered that I was fairly fitted out for my
new career, the major promising to get for me at Cork such other things
as I might require.

With intense satisfaction I put on my uniform, of which, though the
gold lace was somewhat tarnished, and the buttons not over bright, I
was mightily proud. My father presented me with a sword, which had
been my grandfather's. It was of antique make, and, being somewhat
rusty, was evidently unwilling to leave the scabbard. Nora,
notwithstanding, proudly girded it on my side by a broad leathern belt
with a huge silver clasp, which I thought had a very handsome
appearance. I little dreamed that my costume was not altogether
according to the rules and regulations of the naval service. The coat
was long in the waist, and longer in the skirts, which were looped back
with gold lace, Pat having also surrounded the cuffs with a band of the
same material. The inside was lined with white silk, and there were
patches of white cloth on the collar. The waistcoat, which came down
to my hips, was of flowered silk, made out of one of my
great-grandmother's petticoats, which had long