“‘No, sir; ever since we struck this calm, three days ago, I’ve been feeling quare like, an’ I ain’t slept overmuch—an’, an’—well, if ye have a drap av th’ craythur it would do me good.’
“‘Go for’ard an’ send th’ carpenter aft, an’ then come here.’
“So I did, an’ whin I got there th’ owld man give me an uncommon long grog.
“‘Now,’ said he, ‘clear away th’ after battery an’ get out th’ muskets. Ye air a fine dramist, Mr. O’Toole.’ So I lent a hand an’ got th’ two six-pounders we carried on th’ poop clear fer firing. Thin I looks out th’ muskets. Amos Jones came on deck an’ saw th’ manœuvres.
“‘What t’ell!’ said he. ‘Be ye going to engage in an engagement? Where’s th’ inimy?’ For th’ wasn’t a rag above th’ sea-line.
“‘Pirits,’ said Chips, ramming a bag av powder into wan av th’ guns.
“‘Ye don’t tell!’ said Amos.
“‘Fact,’ said Chips; ‘an’ now if you’ll pass me a ball I’ll finish this roarer.’
“But there wasn’t wan aboard. No, sir; powder there was in plenty, but divil a ball aboard th’ ship.
“Th’ owld man swore, an’ we hunted all tween-decks, but ’t wasn’t any use, so we dealt out th’ muskets an’ waited for night.