“But thar’s no use for me to go down, I tell you. You go down, and get them to come up.” “Och, sure an the businiss won’t allow thim to come up at all, at all.” “O, yes, it will. ’Tain’t likely they have anything so dreadful important but what some of them can come here.” “But I tell ye this businiss must be transacted on the wharf,” said Pat, earnestly. “It’s on the wharf it must be done, so it is.” “The wharf? I don’t see that exactly. What is the business?” “Why, why--it’s--it’s a kind av a--a--tis-timonial, sure; an there you have it.” “A testimonial?--railly--wal, now, that’s rail kind. But couldn’t the boys come up here--or postpone it?” “Sorra a bit of that same culd they do,” said Pat. “It’s all got to be done on the wharf, and this evenin so it has.” “On the wharf?” “Sure, it’s jist that same, so it is.” “An this evenin?” “Sorra a time else.” “What kin it be?” said Captain Corbet, meditatively, lost in wonder at the mystery that surrounded Pat’s message. He leaned his head upon his hand, while his foot still jogged the cradle, and sat for a time lost in thought. But Pat’s impatience could not endure the delay. “O, come along,” said he; “sure it’s all one to you.” “But I can’t,” said the captain. “You forget the babby.” “I’ll tell you what to do,” said Pat, as a bright thought struck him; “bring the baby wid you.” Captain Corbet stared for a moment at Pat in silent horror. “What!” he cried, “bring _him_ with me! Expose that per-recious head to the evenin damp! Why, d’ye think I’m made of _iron?_” Pat at this gave up, and began to despair of moving Corbet from his house. “If ye o’ny knowed,” said he, at last, resuming his effort,--“if ye o’ny knowed what it was, ye’d go fast enough.” “Knowed what it was? Why, didn’t you say what it was?” “Not me, sure.” “Yes, you did.” “Niver a bit of it.” “You said it was a testimonial.” “Well, an did I tell you what kind of a testimonial it wor? Not me.” “Wal, tell me now.” “Will ye go if I do?” “How can I go?” “Take the baby along wid ye, sure. It’s aisy enough.” “That thar’s not possible. I’ll tell you. Wait, and p’aps the ole ’oman ’ll be hum soon.” “Wait? But we can’t wait. It must be done the night.” “What?” “Sure, the businiss.” “The testimonial? Why can’t it be kept?” “You see, it’s a kind av a present; something that ye’ll value next to yer child, so ye will.” “Dew tell. Wal, now, railly; why, what upon airth _kin_ that be?” said Captain Corbet, whose curiosity began to be more excited than it had hitherto been. “I’m not allowed to tell,” said Pat, mysteriously. “Why, railly! Why, how extra particular! But come now, tell a leetle of it.” “I can’t,” said Pat; “but if you want to know, ye must go to the wharf.” “Somethin,” mused Captain Corbet. “Somethin you say that I’ll vally nex to my babby. Why, what upon airth _kin_ it be? I declare I never was so cur’ous in my hull life; an you wun’t tell.” “No,” said Pat. “Wun’t?” “No.” “Honor bright?”