with him, you see, bekase disthress makes us all
equal,--'thrue for you, Captain jewel,'--God betune uz and harm, I owe
no man any spite,--and throth that was only thruth. Well, the last
bishkit was sarved out, and by gor the _wather itself_ was all gone at
last, and we passed the night mighty cowld; well, at the brake o' day
the sun riz most beautifully out o' the waves, that was as bright as
silver and as clear as chrystal. But it was only the more cruel upon us,
for we wor beginnin' to feel _terrible_ hungry; when all at wanst I
thought I spied the land,--by gor, I thought I felt my heart up in my
throat in a minit, and 'Thunder an' turf, Captain,' says I, 'look to
leeward,' says I.

"'What for?' says he.

"'I think I see the land,' says I. So he ups with his bring-'em-near
(that's what the sailors call a spy-glass, sir), and looks out, and,
sure enough, it was.

"'Hurra!' says he, 'we're all right now; pull away, my boys,' says he.

"'Take care you're not mistaken,' says I; 'maybe it's only a fog-bank,
Captain darlint,' says I.

"'O no,' says he, 'it's the land in airnest.'

"'O, then, whereabouts in the wide world are we, Captain?' says I;
'maybe it id be in _Roosia_, or _Proosia_, or the Garmant Oceant,' says
I.

"'Tut, you fool,' says he, for he had that consaited way wid
him--thinkin' himself cleverer nor any one else--'tut, you fool,' says
he, 'that's _France_,' says he.

"'Tare an ouns,' says I, 'do you tell me so? and how do you know it's
France it is, Captain dear,' says I.

"'Bekase this is the Bay o' Bishky we're in now,' says he.

"'Throth, I was thinkin' so myself,' says I, 'by the rowl it has; for I
often heerd av it in regard of that same; and throth the likes av it I
never seen before nor since, and, with the help of God, never will.'

"Well, with that, my heart began to grow light; and when I seen my life
was safe, I began to grow twice hungrier nor ever--so, says I, 'Captain
jewel, I wish we had a gridiron.'

"'Why, then,' says he, 'thunder and turf,' says he, 'what puts a
gridiron into your head?'

"'Bekase I'm starvin' with the hunger,' says I.

"'And sure, bad luck to you,' says he, 'you couldn't eat a gridiron,'
says he, 'barrin' you were a _pelican o' the wildherness_,' says he.

"'Ate a gridiron,' says I, 'och, in throth, I'm not such a _gommoch_ all
out as that, anyhow. But sure, if we had a gridiron, we could dress a
beefstake,' says I.

"'Arrah! but where's the beefstak