the boat turned keel upwards, and the captain disappeared to the bottom, yelling all sorts of ‘murdher!’ And I can assure you, my gentleman forgot all _ideas_ but that _plain Jimmy Delany_ was on the point of being smothered, and no sailor with a shark in his wake ever showed more dexterity. Nobly did he buffet and plunge, and kick and puff for his life, till he got to dry land, where I was ready to receive him. ‘Are you safe, captain?’ inquired I in a tone of much commiseration. ‘Och, masther jewel!’ quoth Jimmy ruefully, his teeth chattering between fright and cold, ‘I never was so near death in my life! I was well-nigh smothered between the eels and the mud at the bottom of that curst marl-hole!’ ‘Ah! my Jimmy,’ observed I pathetically, ‘we should never meddle with unknown elements. See how uncertain is the life of a sailor!--one moment floating majestically on the bosom of the ocean, and the next at the bottom with the fishes.’ ‘Thrue for ye, masther darlint!’ replied my man, _once more my man_; and home I drove my man before me, covered with mud, as if he was preparing a cast of his beautiful person; and so efficacious were the stoning, the ducking, my lecture, and the shouts of laughter his appearance raised amongst the workmen and neighbours, that I had soon the pleasure to see him return to his original ‘idea’ that he was ‘sarvint man to the priest,’ and become undividedly attentive. But I believe this life is to be one of change and crosses. No sooner had I sat myself down with the hope of peace and ease for the rest of my days, than there comes another, and the greatest of all annoyances, the more so that it was totally unexpected. No! I never dreamt that Jimmy Delany would become _a lover_! and when I _did_ become aware of the state of affairs, I was as much a stricken deer as himself--paralyzed, bewildered what to do or say under the circumstances. I will not trouble you with a detail of the first symptoms I observed, nor a description of the many outrageous blunders he committed under the influence of this worst of all ‘ideas’ but one--and here it is:-- It was on a Thursday: I had ordered a beef-steak for dinner. You know it is my favourite dish, and that I am particular to have it dressed to a turn. I had taught Jimmy the art; but warned by late failures and mistakes, I called in one of the neighbours’ wives to have an eye to Jimmy while dressing dinner. Well, at the hour appointed the dinner smoked on the table sure enough, and, tucking a napkin under my chin, I sat down ‘richly to enjoy;’ when lo! a loud scream, or rather yell, from the kitchen, startled me, and the next instant in rushed Mrs Flanagan, with outstretched arms, apparently panic-stricken. ‘Oh, holy Mary! did you ait any ov it yet, sir?’ she asked in breathless haste. ‘Eat what?’ demanded I, surprised. ‘That thing in the dish,’ screamed she. ‘No,’ said I gruffly, and angry at the unseasonable interruption.