“You'd better not,” said Larry Hogan. “Let him rest in pace!”
“Fudge!” said Goggins. “Will you join chorus, Jim?”
“I will,” said Jim, fiercely.
“We'll all join,” said the men (except Larry), who felt it would be a sort of relief to bully away the supernatural terror which hung round their hearts after the ghost story by the sound of their own voices.
“Then here goes!” said Goggins, who started another long ballad about Jimmy Barlow, in the opening of which all joined. It ran as follows:—
“My name it is Jimmy Barlow,
I was born in the town of Carlow,
And here I lie in the Maryborough jail,
All for the robbing of the Wicklow mail.
Fol de rol de rol de riddle-ido!”
As it would be tiresome to follow this ballad through all its length, breadth, and thickness, we shall leave the singers engaged in their chorus, while we call the reader's attention to a more interesting person than Mister Goggins or Jimmy Barlow.