The young ladies, though doubting the powers of their own fascinations, resolved to make the experiment. So, begging the lieutenant of the sloop to give them a passage on board to speak with his captain, they added a small matter of finery to their dress, and skipped into the boat like a couple of mountain kids, caring neither for the exposure of ancles nor the spray of the salt water, which, though it took the curls out of their hair, added a bloom to their cheeks, which perhaps contributed in no small degree to the success of their project. There is something in the sight of a petticoat at sea that never fails to put a man into a good humour, provided he be rightly constructed. When they got on board the man-of-war, they were received by the captain. “And pray, young ladies,” said he, “what may have procured me the honour of this visit?” “It was to beg a favour of your honour,” said Judy. “And his honour will grant it too,” said Maria, “for I like the look of him.” Flattered by this shot of Maria’s, the captain said that nothing ever gave him more pleasure than to oblige the ladies; and if the favour they intended to ask was not utterly incompatible with his duty, that he would grant it. “Well, then,” said Judy, “will your honour give me back Pat Flannagan, that you have pressed just now?” The captain shook his head. “He’s no sailor, your honour, but a poor bog-trotter; and he will never do you any good.” The captain again shook his head. “Ask me anything else,” said he, “and I will give it you.” “Well, then,” said Maria, “give us Phelim O’Shaughnessy.” The captain was equally inflexible. “Come, come, your honour,” said Judy, “we must not stand upon trifles now-a-days. I’ll give you a kiss if you give me back Pat Flannagan.” “And I another,” said Maria, “for Phelim.” The captain had one seated on each side of him; his head turned like a dog-vane in a gale of wind. He did not know which to begin with; the most ineffable good humour danced in his eyes; and the ladies saw at once the day was their own. Such is the power of beauty, that this lord of the ocean was fain to strike to it. Judy laid a kiss on his right cheek; Maria matched it on his left; and the captain was the happiest of mortals. “Well, then,” said he, “you have your wish; take your two men, for I am in a hurry to make sail.” “Is it sail ye are after makin’? and do ye mane to take all these poor crathurs away wid you? No, faith; _another kiss and another man_.” I am not going to relate how many kisses these lovely girls bestowed on the envied captain. If such are captains’ perquisites, who would not be a captain? Suffice it to say, they got the whole of their countrymen released, and returned on board in triumph.