“An’, Mr. Darby Doyle,” siz he, “do you mean to persuade us that you swam from Cork to this afther us?”
“This is more ov your ignorance,” siz I—“ay, an’ if you sted three days longer and not take me up, I’d be in Quebec before ye, only my purvisions were out, and the few rags of bank notes I had all melted into paste in my pocket, for I hadn’t time to get them changed. But stay, wait till I get my foot on shore; there’s ne’er a cottoner in Cork iv you don’t pay for leavin’ me to the marcy ov the waves.”
At last we came close to the ship. Everyone on board saw me at Cove but didn’t see me on the voyage; to be sure, everyone’s mouth was wide open, crying out, “Darby Doyle!”
“It’s now you call me loud enough,” siz I, “ye wouldn’t shout that way when ye saw me rowlin’ like a tub in a mill-race the other day fornenst your faces.” When they heard me say that, some of them grew pale as a sheet. Nothin’ was tawked ov for the other three days but Darby Doyle’s great shwim from Cove to Quebec.
At last we got to Ammerykey. I was now in a quare way; the captain wouldn’t let me go till a friend of his would see me. By this time, my jewel, not only his friends came, but swarms upon swarms, starin’ at poor Darby. At last I called Ned.
“Ned, avic,” siz I, “what’s the meanin’ ov the boords acrass the stick the people walk on, and the big white boord up there?”
“Why, come over and read,” siz Ned. I saw in great big black letters:—
THE GREATEST WONDHER IN THE WORLD!!!
TO BE SEEN HERE,
A Man that beats out Nicholas the Diver!
He has swum from Cork to Amerrykey!!
Proved on oath by ten of the crew and twenty passengers.
Admittance Half a Dollar.
“Ned,” siz I, “does this mean your humble sarvint?”