"Glad of it, Peregrine—my compliments—wish him joy—but all, what do you mean by all?"
"She has got twins, sir."
"The deuce! twins!"
"Yes, sir, three on 'em, sir."
"An Irish pair," said I.
"Two girls and a boy."
"Hillo," I continued—"why, I only fired two guns!"
"Oh, pilgarlic goes for the rocket," cried my uncle, laughing—"but there spoke your mother, you Patlander, you—there shone out Kilkenny, Benjie. Oh dear, oh dear—two girls and a boy—old Pigwell's young wife brought to bed of—two carronades and a rocket—ha, ha, ha."
We walked down to the counting-house together as lovingly as ever, but my star was now in the ascendant, for there we found Captain Jennings, who informed my uncle that he had been obliged that morning to land Mr Williamson, the clerk, who was about proceeding in charge of the expedition, in consequence of his having been taken alarmingly ill.
This was most unfortunate, as the wind appeared on the eve of coming fair.