when the captain answered them it was the same as that used by the ladies and gentlemen in the first cabin, an Irishman made the amusing retort that "it might do very well for the quality and the pigs, but it was not tit for poor people like him." During the voyage there was an outbreak of measles and low fever that caused some mortality amongst the infants. But, if there were some deaths, there were also births on board the "Erin-go-bragh."
One of those interesting domestic occurrences happened on St. Patrick's Night. When Father Dunne was called upon to baptise the child, the usual inquiries were made as to what name should be bestowed on the infant; and, in recognition of the happy coincidence that the child's natal day corresponded with the feast of Ireland's patron saint, Patrick was unanimously selected as a fit and proper title for the baby. Next morning the father of the child came to the priest in an awful state of trouble and anxiety. "Oh, your reverence," said he, "we made a great mistake last night." "How is that?" inquired the priest. "Oh, your reverence, it was all through that ape of a woman who attended my wife. Sure Paddy is a little girl!" Here was a truly perplexing state of things. A conference of all interested was held, and the priest eventually pacified all parties with the assurance that the little innocent victim of the baptismal blunder should be registered, as "Mary Patrick."
On arrival in Moreton Bay, a large inlet about 25 miles distant from Brisbane, the capital of the new colony of Queensland, the "Erin-go-bragh" was subjected to a short detention in quarantine. When the immigrants were permitted to land, they were taken up the river in a special steamer and heartily welcomed by the Right Rev. James Quinn, the first Bishop of Queensland, and the people