"Sartain; tell your story, and, if I can't do you any good, I won't do you any harm."
"That's the mon for me!" replied Pat, slapping Uncle Nathan familiarly on the back. "Now, do you see, there's a naiger on this boat, that wants a frind."
"A friend!" said Uncle Nathan, with some doubt, as he reflected on the conflict between the claims of humanity and the stringent laws of the slave states.
"To be sure, a frind!" replied Pat, with emphasis.
"I will befriend him," replied Uncle Nathan, his natural inclination triumphing over his fear of the law.
"Spoken like a Christian! Sure, that's jist what St. Patrick would say, if the saint—long life to him!—were here," replied Pat, rejoicing that the difficulty was overcome.
"Now, dhraw near till I tells yous all about it; and, if iver you mintion a word of it, may your sowl never lave purgatory till it is burnt to a cindther! Now, do you mind, there's a naiger concayled in the hould of the boat, that wants to correspond with a faymale in the cabin."
"But he will expose himself, and she may deliver him up."
"Divil a bit! Didn't he save her from dhrowning, last night?" exclaimed Pat, warmly, for this act of Hatchie excited all his admiration.
"Good gracious! you don't say so!" and Uncle Nathan understood the mystery of the previous night.