United States or Åland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"O, sure, I'm as good as at home wanst I know the way, barrin' the wind is conthrary; sure the nor-aist coorse'll do the business complate. Good by, your honor, and long life to you, and more power to your elbow, and a light heart and a heavy purse to you evermore, I pray the blessed Virgin and all the saints, amin!"
"By my sowl you spoke loudher that time, sure enough," said Barny. "Take care, Barny," cried Jemmy and Peter together. "Blur-an-agers, man, we'll be kilt if you don't go to them." "Well, and we'll be lost if we turn out iv our nor-aist coorse, and that's as broad as it's long. Let them hit iz if they like; sure it ud be a pleasanter death nor starvin' at say.
I tell you agin I'll turn out o' my nor-aist coorse for no man." A shotted gun was fired. The shot hopped on the water as it passed before the hooker. "Phew! you missed it, like your mammy's blessin'," said Barny. "O murther!" said Jemmy, "didn't you see the ball hop aff the wather forninst you. O murther, what 'ud we ha' done if we wor there at all at all?"
"Well, what matther?" said Barny, "since they wor only blind gunners, an' I knew it; besides, as I said afore, I won't turn out o' my nor-aist coorse for no man." "That's a new turn you tuk lately," said Peter. "What's the raison you're runnin' a nor-aist coorse now, an' we never hear'd iv it afore at all, till afther you quitted the big ship?"
Brig-a-hoy there!" shouted Barny, giving the tiller to one of his messmates, and standing at the bow of his boat. "Brig-a-hoy there! bad luck to you, go 'long out o' my nor-aist coorse." The brig, instead of obeying him, hove to, and lay right ahead of the hooker.
The curse o' Crummil on you, you stupid vagabones, that won't go out iv a man's nor-aist coorse!" From cursing Barny went to praying as he came closer. "For the tendher marcy o' heaven an' lave my way. May the Lord reward you, and get out o' my nor-aist coorse! May angels make your bed in heavin and don't ruinate me this a way."
'Twas the nor-aist coorse we wor an sure enough; but no matther 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, whin I jist spake a word to my comrades here." "Why, sure it's not goin' to turn pilot you are," said Jemmy, in his simplicity of heart.
"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 nothin' to do but plaze you?" Again he was hailed. "Oh! bad luck to the toe I'll go to you." Another hail. "Spake loudher you'd betther," said Barny, jeeringly, still holding on his course. A gun was fired ahead of him.
"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 northeast course." "Throth an' that would be the dirty turn, seein' that it was yourself that ordhered it.
"What brings you here?" was the question. "Throth, thin, and I think I might betther ax what brings you here, right in the way o' my nor-aist coorse." "Where do you come from?" "From Kinsale; and you didn't come from a betther place, I go bail." "Where are you bound to?" "To Fingal." "Fingal, where's Fingal?" "Why then, ain't you ashamed o' yourself an' not to know where Fingal is?"
Word Of The Day