“Just listen to that now, ‘Harsh!’ an’ that to a man whose own mother, by the father’s side, towld him he shud make music his purfession! Arrah, howld on, Black Ned, ye spalpeen; ye’ve had two helpin’s already!”
This latter remark had reference to the baling-dish of soup which was being passed round the party, so that each might help himself to two mouthfuls of soup before passing it on. As they had no spoons, the doctor had extemporised ladles of folded bark which served the purpose pretty well.
“Haven’t ye a small bit o’ ’baccy in the corner o’ wan o’ yer pockets, doctor, dear?” asked Terrence, insinuatingly. “May be ye’d find a morsel if ye’d try.”
“Quite useless to try, my poor fellow,” returned the doctor, with a look of affected pity, “for I’m a non-smoker. I never indulge in such an absurdity.”
“Sure, it’s a true proverb that says ‘doctor’s differ,’” retorted O’Connor, “for most o’ the saw-bones of my acquaintance have smoked like lime kilns.”
“More’s the pity, Terrence, but if you’ll heave on some more firewood you’ll have a smoke that may do as a substitute at present.”
By heaping quantities of fresh branches on the fire till it was large enough to roast an ox, the party managed to pass the night in comparative comfort, in spite of cold and sleet. Hayward watched the fire during the first part of the night. Then he was relieved by our coxswain, who was succeeded by Joe Slag, and no Vestal virgins ever tended their fire with more anxious solicitude than those three men guarded theirs during that first night on the island.
As if to make up for the sufferings of the past few days, the morning that followed broke with unclouded splendour, and the rising sun shone upon as beautiful a scene as could well be imagined, for it revealed an island richly clothed with verdure, which, rising out of a calm blue sea, sloped gradually upwards, until its western ridge met the bright sky. Evidently that terminating ridge was the place whence descended the precipitous cliffs, along which they had sailed immediately after leaving the cave of the wreck.
There is no accounting for the eccentricities of weak-minded females, whether pretty or plain. The first thing that pretty little Mrs Mitford exclaimed on opening her eyes and beholding the glorious view was—
“Oh! I do so wish that we had oysters for breakfast!”