and rum—what else would he be eating? His wife took off her rusty old dolman and her beribboned bonnet.
"Mr. Casey is satisfied to keep the children until we return," he said.
"Isn't he the decent man!" said she, but she said no more.
The Captain had a lot to do, as the Brideog (that was his ship) was to weigh anchor at three o'clock. Needless to say, his wife had a lot to . do. She had to pack and she had to conceal Maire Bán and the Burla in the Brideog unknown to their father. The obstinate man! He wouldn't give in to her in that. He wouldn't allow the children to come. A father has not the same feelings as a mother, but she was too clever for him; and don't blame her if she played a trick on him and bribed the cabin-boy to hide them in his own little cubby-hole until they would be well out at sea.
At two o'clock exactly the Captain's wife left her house on a car. You never saw so many large bags and heavy boxes as were on that car. The poor woman brought with her all the furniture that she could, and if she was so fond of the furniture as all that, wouldn't it be a queer thing if she were to leave her two pets behind?
The Captain was on the bridge when she reached the dock. He and the crew were working like niggers and swearing. She paid no
