Stories by English Authors: Ireland | Page 4

to lind us the loan of a gridiron,' says I, makin' a low bow.
"Well, sir, with that, throth, they stared at me twice worse nor ever, and, faith, I began to think that maybe the captain was wrong, and that it was not France at all at all; and so says I, 'I beg pardon, sir,' says I to a fine ould man, with a head of hair as white as silver; 'maybe I'm under a mistake,' says I, 'but I thought I was in France, sir; aren't you furriners?' says I. 'Parly voo frongsay?'
"'We, munseer,' says he.
"'Then would you lind me the loan of a gridiron,' says I, 'if you plase?'
"Oh, it was thin that they stared at me as if I had seven heads; and, faith, myself began to feel flushed like and onaisy; and so says I, makin' a bow and scrape ag'in, 'I know it's a liberty I take, sir,' says I, 'but it's only in the regard of bein' cast away; and if you plase, sir,' says I, 'parly voo frongsay?'
"'We, munseer,' says he, mighty sharp.
"'Then would you lind me the loan of a gridiron?' says I, 'and you'll obleege me.'
"Well, sir, the ould chap began to munseer me; but the divil a bit of a gridiron he'd gi' me; and so I began to think they wor all neygars, for all their fine manners; and, throth, my blood begun to rise, and says I, 'By my sowl, if it was you was in disthress,' says I, 'and if it was to ould Ireland you kem, it's not only the gridiron they'd give you, if you axed it, but something to put an it, too, and the drop o' dhrink into the bargain, and cead mile failte.'
"Well, the word cead mile failte seemed to sthreck his heart, and the ould chap cocked his ear, and so I thought I'd give him another offer, and make him sinsible at last; and so says I, wanst more, quite slow, that he might understand, 'Parly--voo--frongsay, munseer?'
"'We, munseer,' says he.
"'Then lind me the loan of a gridiron,' says I, 'and bad scram to you.'
"Well, bad win to the bit of it he'd gi' me, and the ould chap begins bowin' and scrapin', and said something or other about a long tongs.
[Footnote: Some mystification of Paddy's touching the French n'tends.]
"'Phoo!--the divil swape yourself and your tongs,' says I; 'I don't want a tongs at all at all; but can't you listen to raison?' says I. 'Parly voo frongsay?'
"'We, munseer.'
"'Then lind me the loan of a gridiron,' says I, 'and howld your prate.'
"Well, what would you think, but he shook his old noddle as much as to say he wouldn't; and so says I, 'Bad cess to the likes o' that I ever seen! Throth, if you wor in my counthry, it's not that away they'd use you. The curse o' the crows an you, you ould sinner,' says I; 'the divil a longer i'll darken your door.'
"So he seen I was vexed; and I thought, as I was turnin' away, I seen him begin to relint, and that his conscience throubled him; and says I, turnin' back, 'Well, I'll give you one chance more, you ould thief. Are you a Chrishthan at all? Are you a furriner,' says I,' that all the world calls so p'lite? Bad luck to you, do you understand your own language? Parly voo frongsay?' says I.
"'We, munseer,' says he.
"'Then, thunder an' turf,' says I, 'will you lind me the loan of a gridiron?'
"Well, sir, the divil resa've the bit of it he'd gi' me; and so, with that, 'The curse o' the hungry an you, you ould neygarly villain,' says I; 'the back o' my hand and the sowl o' my foot to you, that you may want a gridiron yourself yit,' says I. And with that I left them there, sir, and kem away; and, in throth, it's often sense that I thought that it was remarkable."

THE EMERGENCY MEN
BY GEORGE H. JESSOP

The fourth morning after his arrival in Dublin, Mr. Harold Hayes, of New York, entered the breakfast-room of the Shelbourne Hotel in a very bad humour. He was sick of the city, of the people, and of his own company. Before leaving London he had written to his friend, Jack Connolly, that he was coming to Ireland, and he had expected to find a reply at the Shelbourne. For three days he had waited in vain, and it was partly, at least, on Jack's account that Mr. Hayes was in Ireland at all. When Jack sailed from New York he had bound Harold by a solemn promise to spend a few weeks at Lisnahoe on his next visit to Europe. Miss Connelly, who had accompanied her brother on his American tour, had echoed