“I can believe the first half of the yarn,” quoth Captain Blunt.
“You can, can you?” quoth Rory. “Well, sure, it’s all roight after all; you belave the first half, and he belaves the second half himself; what more can you wish? Faith, it’s as roight as the rainbow.”
“Well, Rory,” said the skipper, laughing, “can’t you tell us a story yourself every word of which we can all believe?”
Rory scratched his head, with a comical look twinkling in his eyes and puckering his face.
“Deed and indeed,” he said, “if it be my turn, I won’t be after spoiling the fun.”
Book Two—Chapter Nine.
Rory O’Reilly’s Queer Story.
“Till now we quietly sailed on,
Yet never a breeze did blow;
Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
Moved onward from beneath.
“The upper air burst into life,
And a hundred fire-flags sheen,
To and fro they were hurried about,
And to and fro and in and out
The war stars danced between.”
Coleridge.