“’I’m sorry to hear the Faries rowls so bad, though what the Faries mains is more nor I can tell.’ (I spelled the word quite krect, lads, but my poor mistress hain’t got the best of eyesight.) ’Let me know in yer nixt, an’ be sure to tell me if Long Forsyth has got the bitter o’ say-sickness.  I’m koorius about this, bekaise I’ve got a receipt for that same that’s infallerable, as his Riverence says.  Tell him, with my luv, to mix a spoonful o’ pepper, an’ two o’ salt, an’ wan o’ mustard, an’ a glass o’ whisky in a taycup, with a sprinklin’ o’ ginger; fill it up with goat’s milk, or ass’s, av ye can’t git goat’s; hait it in a pan, an’ drink it as hot as he can—­hotter, if possible.  I niver tried it meself, but they say it’s a suverin’ remidy; and if it don’t do no good, it’s not likely to do much harm, bein’ but a waik mixture.  Me own belaif is, that the milk’s a mistake, but I suppose the doctors know best.

“‘Now, swaitest of men, I must stop, for Neddy’s just come in howlin’ like a born Turk for his tay; so no more at present from, yours till deth,

“‘KATHLEEN O’CONNOR.’”

“Has she any sisters?” enquired Joe Dumsby eagerly, as Ned folded the letter and replaced it in his pocket.

“Six of ’em,” replied Ned; “every one purtier and better nor another.”

“Is it a long way to Galway?” continued Joe.

“Not long; but it’s a coorious thing that Englishmen never come back from them parts whin they wance ventur’ into them.”

Joe was about to retort when the men called for another song.

“Come, Jamie Dove, let’s have ’Rule, Britannia’.”

Dove was by this time quite yellow in the face, and felt more inclined to go to bed than to sing; but he braced himself up, resolved to struggle manfully against the demon that oppressed him.

It was in vain!  Poor Dove had just reached that point in the chorus where Britons stoutly affirm that they “never, never, never shall be slaves”, when a tremendous roll of the vessel caused him to spring from the locker, on which he sat, and rush to his berth.

There were several of the others whose self-restraint was demolished by this example; these likewise fled, amid the laughter of their companions, who broke up the meeting and went on deck.

The prospect of things there proved, beyond all doubt, that Britons never did, and never will, rule the waves.

The storm, which had been brewing for some time past, was gathering fresh strength every moment, and it became abundantly evident that the floating light would have her anchors and cables tested pretty severely before the gale was over.

About eight o’clock in the evening the wind shifted to east-south-east; and at ten it became what seamen term a hard gale, rendering it necessary to veer out about fifty additional fathoms of the hempen cable.  The gale still increasing, the ship rolled and laboured excessively, and at midnight eighty fathoms more were veered out, while the sea continued to strike the vessel with a degree of force that no one had before experienced.