“How speedily time wings its flight!” said Ralph, looking wise; “and it never flies more quickly than when people are happy.”
“Not that there is anything very original in your remark, my grave old Ralph,” said Rory, smiling mischievously.
Ralph pinched Rory’s ear, and told him he was always the same—saucy.
“Steward,” continued Ralph, “send to Seth for another hot fish; but be sure to say it’s for the captain.”
“That’s right, Ralph,” said Irish Rory; “salmon and sentiment go well together.”
“You’re wonderfully bright this morning, Rory,” Allan put in.
“And it’s myself that’s glad I look it then, for I feel bright,” quoth Rory. “I feel it all over me, and sure if I’d wings I’d fly.”
“You didn’t want any wings to help you along,” remarked McBain, with his eyes bent on his plate, “last week when that Cinnamon bear went for you.”
“Be easy now,” says Rory; “bother the bear! Sure I feel all of a quiver when I think of him. He was Ralph’s grizzly’s father, I believe. I ought to have had my fiddle with me. You remember what Shakespeare says:
“‘Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast,
A hungry Scotchman or a butcher’s dog.’”