-gallon cask o' bug-juice. That was about wan week,
so far as Counahan remembered. (If I cud only tell the tale as he told
ut!) All that whoile the wind blew like ould glory, an' the
_Marilla_--'twas summer, and they'd give her a foretopmast--struck her
gait and kept ut. Then Counahan tuk the hog-yoke an' thrembled over it
for a whoile, an' made out, betwix' that an' the chart an' the singin'
in his head, that they was to the south'ard o' Sable Island, gettin'
along glorious, but speakin' nothin'. Then they broached another keg,
an' quit speculatin' about anythin' fer another spell. The _Marilla_ she
lay down whin she dropped Boston Light, and she never lufted her
lee-rail up to that time--hustlin' on one an' the same slant. But they
saw no weed, nor gulls, nor schooners; an' prisintly they obsarved
they'd bin out a matter o' fourteen days and they mis-trusted the Bank
has suspinded payment. So they sounded, an' got sixty fathom. 'That's
me,' sez Counahan. 'That's me iv'ry time! I've run her slat on the Bank
fer you, an' when we get thirty fathom we'll turn in like little men.
Counahan is the b'y,' sez he. 'Counahan the Navigator!'

"Nex' cast they got ninety. Sez Counahan: 'Either the lead-line's tuk
to stretchin' or else the Bank's sunk.'

"They hauled ut up, bein' just about in that state when ut seemed right
an' reasonable, and sat down on the deck countin' the knots, an'
gettin' her snarled up hijjus. The _Marilla_ she'd struck her gait, an'
she hild ut, an' prisintly along came a tramp, an' Counahan spoke her.

"'Hev ye seen any fishin'-boats now?' sez he, quite casual.

"'There's lashin's av them off the Irish coast,' sez the tramp.

"'Aah! go shake yerself,' sez Counahan. 'Fwhat have I to do wid the
Irish coast?'

"'Then fwhat are ye doin' here?' sez the tramp.

"'Sufferin' Christianity!' sez Counahan (he always said that whin his
pumps sucked an' he was not feelin' good)--'Sufferin' Christianity!' he
sez, 'where am I at?'

"'Thirty-five mile west-sou'west o' Cape Clear,' sez the tramp, 'if
that's any consolation to you.'

"Counahan fetched wan jump, four feet sivin inches, measured by the
cook.

"'Consolation!' sez he, bould as brass. 'D'ye take me fer a dialect?
Thirty-five mile from Cape Clear, an' fourteen days from Boston Light.
Sufferin' Christianity, 'tis a record, an' by the same token I've a
mother to Skibbereen!' Think av ut! The gall av um! But ye see he could
niver keep things sep'rate.