Stories of Comedy | Page 8

boat.
"O, it's a thrifle makes fools laugh," said Barny.
"Take care, my fine fellow, that you don't be laughing at the wrong side
of your mouth before long, for I've a notion that you're cursedly in the
wrong box, as cunning a fellow as you think yourself. D--n your stupid
head, can't you tell what brings you here?"
"Why, thin, by gor, one id think the whole say belonged to you, you're
so mighty bowld in axin' questions an it. Why, tare-an-ouns, sure I've
as much right to be here as you, though I haven't as big a ship nor as
fine a coat,--but maybe I can take as good a sailin' out o' the one, and
has as bowld a heart under th' other."
"Very well," said the captain, "I see there's no use in talking to you, so
go to the d--l your own way." And away bore the ship, leaving Barny in
indignation and his companions in wonder.
"An' why wouldn't you tell him?" said they to Barny.
"Why, don't you see," said Barny, whose object was now to blind
them,--"don't you see, how do I know but maybe he might be goin' to
the same place himself, and maybe he has a cargo of scalpeens as well
as uz, and wants to get before us there."
"True for you, Barny," said they. "By dad, you're right." And their

inquiries being satisfied, the day passed as former ones had done, in
pursuing the course of the ship.
In four days more, however, the provisions in the hooker began to fail,
and they were obliged to have recourse to the scalpeens for sustenance,
and Barny then got seriously uneasy at the length of the voyage, and
the likely greater length, for anything he could see to the contrary; and,
urged at last by his own alarms and those of his companions, he was
enabled, as the wind was light, to gain on the ship, and when he found
himself alongside he demanded a parley with the captain.
The captain, on hearing that the "hardy hooker," as she got christened,
was under his lee, came on deck; and as soon as he appeared Barny
cried out,--
"Why, thin, blur-an-agers, Captain dear, do you expec' to be there
soon?"
"Where?" said the captain.
"O, you know yourself!" said Barny.
"It's well for me I do," said the captain.
"Thrue for you, indeed, your honor," said Barny, in his most
insinuating tone; "but whin will you be at the ind o' your voyage,
Captain jewel?"
"I daresay in about three months," said the captain.
"O Holy Mother!" ejaculated Barny; "three months!--arrah, it's jokin'
you are, Captain dear, and only want to freken me."
"How should I frighten you?" asked the captain.
"Why, thin, your honor, to tell God's thruth, I heard you were goin'
there, an' as I wanted to go there too, I thought I couldn't do better nor
to folly a knowledgeable gintleman like yourself, and save myself the
throuble iv findin' it out."

"And where do you think I am going?" said the captain.
"Why, thin," said Barny, "isn't it to Fingal?"
"No," said the captain, "it's to Bengal."
"O Gog's blakey!" said Barny, "what'll I do now, at all at all?"
II.
HOMEWARD BOUND.
The captain ordered Barny on deck, as he wished to have some
conversation with him on what he, very naturally, considered a most
extraordinary adventure. Heaven help the captain! he knew little of
Irishmen, or he would not have been so astonished. Barny made his
appearance. Puzzling question and more puzzling answer followed in
quick succession between the commander and Barny, who, in the midst
of his dilemma, stamped about, thumped his head, squeezed his
caubeen into all manner of shapes, and vented his despair
anathematically: "O, my heavy hathred to you, you tarnal thief iv a long
sailor, it's a purty scrape yiv led me into. By gor, I thought it was
Fingal he said, and now I hear it is Bingal. O, the divil sweep you for
navigation, why did I meddle or make wid you at all at all? And my
curse light on you, Terry O'Sullivan, why did I iver come across you,
you onlooky vagabone, to put sich thoughts in my head? And so it's
Bingal, and not Fingal, you're goin' to, Captain?"
"Yes, indeed, Paddy."
"An' might I be so bowld to ax, Captain, is Bingal much farther nor
Fingal?"
"A trifle or so, Paddy?"
"Och, thin, millia murther, weirasthru, how'll I iver get there at all at
all?" roared out poor Barny.
"By turning about, and getting back the road you've come, as fast as

you can."
"Is it back? O Queen iv Heaven! an' how will I iver get back?" said the
bewildered Barny.
"Then, you don't