on the back,--for shaking
hands was a ceremony he was unwilling to venture on with his gouty
fingers.

My mother was later than usual. I hurried off to her room. As she
listened to my account her eyes were fixed on me till they became filled
with tears.

"You have chosen a rough life, Terence; but may God protect you," she
said, throwing her arms round my neck, and kissing my brow. "I could
not prevent your going even if I would, as your uncle has accepted
Captain Macnamara's offer; for a profession you must have, and it is a
fine one, I've no doubt. But wherever you go, my dear boy, remember
that the thoughts of those at home will be following you."

More she said to the same effect. When she at length released me, I
hurried out to tell Larry, Dan Bourke, and the rest of the domestics.
At first Larry looked very downcast; but when he heard that he was to go
too, he gave expression to his joy in a wild shout, which rang through
the kitchen. Biddy, the cook, and the other females were not so heroic
as my sisters, for they began to pipe their eyes in a way I couldn't
stand, so I ran off to the breakfast room; whether it was at the
thoughts of losing Larry or me, I didn't stop to consider. My speedy
departure to become a son of Neptune was the only subject of
conversation during the morning meal. It was agreed that to enable me
to make a respectable appearance on board His Majesty's frigate, I ought
to be provided with a uniform; and a message was despatched to Pat
Cassidy, the family tailor, to appear forthwith, and exercise his skill
in manufacturing the necessary costume. The major, who had frequently
been at sea, believed that he could give directions for shaping the
garments correctly; and as all were agreed that blue was the required
colour, he presented me with a cloth cloak, which, though it had seen
some service, was considered suitable for the purpose.

Pat Cassidy soon arrived with his shears and tape; and being installed
in a little room, where he was sure of not being interrupted, took my
measure, and set to work, under the major's directions, to cut out and
stitch a coat and breeches in what was considered approved nautical
fashion. The difficulty was the buttons; but my mother fortunately
discovered a moth-eaten coat and waistcoat of a naval lieutenant, a
relative, who had paid a visit to Castle Ballinahone many years before,
and, having been killed in action shortly afterwards, had never retu