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Updated: May 26, 2025
He gazed vacantly before him for a moment, and then said, sharply, "I've no time to talk of it now, sir. I'm off to Douglas, but if you like to stop awhile and talk of it with Mrs. Quilliam, I'll be hearing everything when I come back. Good-day, Kate. Take care of my wife. Good-day, Nancy; look after my two girls while I'm away. Good-bye! Another!
I'll meet her at the quay it's my duty to meet her," said Cæsar. "And I'll board her in the bay," shouted Black Tom. "Thomas Quilliam," said Cæsar, "it's borne in on my spirit that the devil of greed is let loose on you." "Cæsar Cregeen, don't make a nose of wax of me," bawled Tom, "and don't think because you're praiching a bit that religion is going to die with you.
You'll be coming up to the trough with me the ould home, you know. I'll be whipping the chiss ashore in a jiffy, only Cæsar's that eager to help, it's wonderful. No, you'll not then?" Pete was shaking his head as he went up the gangway, and seeing this, Cæsar said severely "Lave the gentleman alone, Mr. Quilliam. He knows his own business best." "So do you, Mr. Collecting Box," said Black Tom.
Little curly Pete, with the broad, bare feet, the tousled black head, the jacket half way up his back like a waistcoat with sleeves, and the hole in his trousers where the tail of his shirt should have been, was Peter Quilliam, and he was the natural son of Peter Christian.
Quilliam," said Ross, "I come from my father this time." "'Deed, man," said Pete. "He is a little pressed for money." "And Mr. Peter Christian sends to me?" "He thought you might like to lend on mortgage." "On Ballawhaine?" Ross stammered and stuttered, "Well, yes, certainly, as you say, on Balla " "To think, to think," muttered Pete.
Quilliam, I would be making a start for somewhere." "Grandson!" grunted Tom, heaving up, "I've got no grandson, or he wouldn't be laving me to smoke a dry pipe. But he's making an Almighty of this Phil Christian that's it."
"The last christening I was at was my own," said Black Tom, "when I was made an in inheriter, but I've never inherited yet." "That's truth enough," said an asthmatic voice from the backstairs. "Well, the last christening I was at was at Kimberley," said Pete, "and I was the parzon myself that day. Yes, though, Parzon Pete. And godfather and godmother as well, and the baby was Peter Quilliam, too.
"Dealing ponies then?" asked Pete. "Anything, sir; anything. Buying for farmers up Lonan way," said Black Tom. "Come on," said Pete; "here's Cæsar with a long-horned cow." They found the good man tethering a white, long-horned cow to the wheel of the tipped-up gig. "How do, Cæsar? And how much for the long-horn?" said Black Tom. Quilliam. Examine her for yourself," said Cæsar.
"What about original sin?" There was a chorus of applause. Kate was still laughing. Philip's head was down. "And now, friends," continued the parson, "Captain Quilliam has been a successful man abroad, but he has had to come home to do the best piece of work he ever did." Vanity of vanities, love is not for me.
Some of our men went to Lieutenant Quilliam, and offered to swim under her bows, and get up there; but it was thought unfit to hazard brave lives in this manner. What our men would have done from gallantry, some of the crew of the SANTISSIMA TRINIDAD did to save themselves.
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