“Won't that do for you neither? I'm not going back on it, though. 'Whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder'--isn't that it, Parzon Quiggin? What's it you're saying--no man but the Dempster? Well, the Dempster's here that is to be--I'll clear him of _that_, anyway.” Kate's laughter became explosive and uncontrollable. Pete nodded sideways to fill up the gap in his eloquence, and then went on. “But if my _dooiney molla_ can't marry my wife, there's one thing he can do for her--he can make her house his home in Ramsey when he goes to Douglas for good and comes down here to the coorts once a fortnight.” Kate laughed more immoderately than ever; but Philip, with a look of alarm, half rose from his seat, and said across the table, “There's my aunt at Ballure, Pete.” “She'll be following after you,” said Pete. “There are hotels enough for travellers,” said Philip. “Too many by half, and that's why I asked in public,” said Pete. “I know the brotherly feeling----” began Philip. “Is it a promise?” demanded Pete. “If I can't escape your kindness----” “No, you can't; so there's an end of it.” “It will kill me yet----” “May you never die till it polishes you off.”. At Philip's submission to Pete's will, there was a general chorus of cheers, through which Kate's shrill laughter rang like a scream. Pete patted the back of her hand, and continued, “And now, young fellows there, let an ould experienced married man give you a bit of advice--he swore away all his worldly goods this morning, so he hasn't much else to give. I've no belief in bachelors myself. They're like a tub without a handle--nothing to lay hould of them by.” (Much nudging and whispering about the bottom of the table.) “What's that down yonder? 'The vicar,' you say? Aw, the vicar's a grand man, but he's only a parzon, you see. Mr. Christian, is it? He's got too much work to do to be thinking about women. We're living on the nineteenth century, boys, and it's middling hard feeding for some of us. If the fishing's going to the dogs and the farming going to the deuce, don't be tossing head over tip at the tail of the tourist. If you've got the pumping engine inside of you, in plain English, if you've got the indomable character of the rael Manxman, do as I done--go foreign. Then watch your opportunity. What's Shake-spar saying?” Pete paused. “What's that he's saying, now?” Pete scratched his forehead. “Something about a flood, anyway.” Pete stretched his hand out vigorously. “'Lay hould of it at the flood,' says he, 'that's the way to make your fortune.'”