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"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.
"You can corn the trouts, Barny, and the eels too; but should you catch nothing, go to Pat Hartigan, Captain Sloethorn's gamekeeper, and, if you tell him it's for me, he'll drag you a batch out of the fish-pond." "Ah! then, you're Reverence, it's himself that'll do that wid a heart an' a half."
O no, I'll depend my life an the nor-aist coorse, and God help any that comes betune me an' it, I'd run him down if he was my father." "Well, good by, Barny." "Good by, and God bless you, your honor, and send you safe." "That's a wish you want for yourself, Barny, never fear for me, but mind yourself well."
The plain-dealing reader would 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.
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 lookout that she should not give him the slip.
Let us take time to consider this sliding-door question, folding-doors they used to be, and, truly, I'm not sure that the rollers are any improvement on the hinges, there is something dreadfully barny about sliding-doors. Why do you want either? You have one room which you call the parlor, supposed to be the best in the house, as to its location, its finish, its furniture, and its use.
"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."
"God save you kindly, Barny," returned Peter Kelly; "an' what is it brings you here, Barny," asked Peter, "this fine day, instead o' being out in the boat?" "O, 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." "Why, do you want me to go along wid you, Barny?" "Troth an' I don't, Mr. Kelly.
"'Tis Barny Brady that would never turn informer the same thing isn't in him, nor in any of his breed; there's not a man in the parish I'd thrust sooner." "I'd jist thrust him," replied Traynor, "as far as I could throw a cow by the tail.
Howld your prate, I tell you, and look up to your betthers. What do you know iv navigation? Maybe you think it's as aisy for to sail on a voyage as to go start a fishin'." And Barny turned on his heel and left the shore. 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.
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