Humours of Irish Life Part 15

"Is it jokin' you are, Ned?" siz I; "shure you tould me to leave it all to you."

"Ah! Darby," siz he, "you're for takin' a rise out o' me. But I'll stick to my promise; only, Darby, you must pay your way."

"O, Ned," says I, "is this the way you're goin' to threat me after all?

I'm a rooin'd man; all I cou'd sc.r.a.pe together I spint on you. If you don't do something for me, I'm lost. Is there no place where you cou'd hide me from the captin?"

"Not a place," siz Ned.

"An' where, Ned, is the place I saw you comin' up out ov?"

"O, Darby, that was the hould where the cargo's stow'd."

"An' is there no other place?" siz I.

"Oh, yes," siz he, "where we keep the wather casks."

"An' Ned," siz I, "does anyone live down there?"

"Not a mother's soul," siz he.

"An' Ned," siz I, "can't you cram me down there, and give me a lock ov straw an' a bit?"

"Why, Darby," siz he (an' he look'd mighty pittyfull), "I must thry. But mind, Darby, you'll have to hide all day in an empty barrel, and when it comes to my watch, I'll bring you down some prog; but if you're diskiver'd, it's all over with me, an' you'll be put on a dissilute island to starve."

"O Ned," siz I, "leave it all to me."

When night c.u.m on I got down into the dark cellar, among the barrels; and poor Ned every night brought me down hard black cakes an' salt meat.

There I lay snug for a whole month. At last, one night, siz he to me:--

"Now, Darby, what's to be done? we're within three days' sail ov Quebec; the ship will be overhauled, and all the pa.s.sengers' names call'd over."

"An' is that all that frets you, my jewel," siz I; "just get me an empty meal-bag, a bottle, an' a bare ham bone, and that's all I'll ax."

So Ned got them for me, anyhow.

"Well, Ned," siz I, "you know I'm a great shwimmer; your watch will be early in the morning; I'll just slip down into the sea; do you cry out 'There's a man in the wather,' as loud as you can, and leave all the rest to me."

Well, to be sure, down into the sea I dropt without as much as a splash.

Ned roared out with the hoa.r.s.eness of a brayin' a.s.s--

"A man in the sea, a man in the sea!"

Every man, woman, and child came running up out of the holes, and the captain among the rest, who put a long red barrel, like a gun, to his eye--I thought he was for shootin' me! Down I dived. When I got my head over the wather agen, what shou'd I see but a boat rowin' to me. When it came up close, I roared out--

"Did ye hear me at last?"

The boat now run 'pon the top ov me; I was gript by the scruff ov the neck, and dragg'd into it.

"What hard look I had to follow yees, at all at all--which ov ye is the masther?" says I.

"There he is," siz they, pointin' to a little yellow man in a corner of the boat.

"You yallow-lookin' monkey, but it's a'most time for you to think ov lettin' me into your ship--I'm here plowin' and plungin' this month afther you; shure I didn't care a thrawneen was it not that you have my best Sunday clothes in your ship, and my name in your books."

"An' pray, what is your name, my lad?" siz the captain.

"What's my name! What i'd you give to know?" siz I, "ye unmannerly spalpeen, it might be what's your name, Darby Doyle, out ov your mouth--ay, Darby Doyle, that was never afraid or ashamed to own it at home or abroad!"

"An', Mr. Darby Doyle," siz he, "do you mean to persuade us that you swam from Cork to this afther us?"

"This is more ov your ignorance," siz I--"ay, an' if you sted three days longer and not take me up, I'd be in Quebec before ye, only my purvisions were out, and the few rags of bank notes I had all melted into paste in my pocket, for I hadn't time to get them changed. But stay, wait till I get my foot on sh.o.r.e; there's ne'er a cottoner in Cork iv you don't pay for leavin' me to the marcy ov the waves."

At last we came close to the ship. Everyone on board saw me at Cove but didn't see me on the voyage; to be sure, everyone's mouth was wide open, crying out, "Darby Doyle!"

"It's now you call me loud enough," siz I, "ye wouldn't shout that way when ye saw me rowlin' like a tub in a mill-race the other day fornenst your faces." When they heard me say that, some of them grew pale as a sheet. Nothin' was tawked ov for the other three days but Darby Doyle's great shwim from Cove to Quebec.

At last we got to Ammerykey. I was now in a quare way; the captain wouldn't let me go till a friend of his would see me. By this time, my jewel, not only his friends came, but swarms upon swarms, starin' at poor Darby. At last I called Ned.

"Ned, avic," siz I, "what's the meanin' ov the boords acra.s.s the stick the people walk on, and the big white boord up there?"

"Why, come over and read," siz Ned. I saw in great big black letters:--

THE GREATEST WONDHER IN THE WORLD!!!

TO BE SEEN HERE,

A Man that beats out Nicholas the Diver!

He has swum from Cork to Amerrykey!!

Proved on oath by ten of the crew and twenty pa.s.sengers.

Admittance Half a Dollar.

"Ned," siz I, "does this mean your humble sarvint?"

"Not another," siz he.

So I makes no more ado, than with a hop, skip, and jump, gets over to the captain, who was now talkin' to a yallow fellow that was afther starin' me out ov countenance.

"Ye are doin' it well," said I. "How much money have ye gother for my shwimmin'?"

"Be quiet, Darby," siz the captain, and he looked very much frickened.

"I have plenty, an' I'll have more for ye iv ye do what I want ye to do."

"An' what is it, avic?" siz I.

"Why, Darby," siz he, "I'm afther houldin a wager last night with this gintleman for all the worth ov my ship, that you'll shwim against any shwimmer in the world; an', Darby, if ye don't do that, I'm a gone man."

"Augh, give us your fist," siz I; "did ye ever hear ov Paddies dishaving any man in the European world yet--barrin' themselves?"

"Well, Darby," siz he, "I'll give you a hundred dollars; but, Darby, you must be to your word, and you shall have another hundred."