"the tide, bad cess to it, was apt to come fast in upon a body, and there was a dale of trouble in moving; but even if one chanced to fall asleep, sorra' a morsel of harm the salt water could do ye on the grey stone, where a living mer-woman sat every new year's night combing her black hair, and making beautiful music to the wild waves,-who, consequently, trated her sate wid grate respict-Why not?"-There, then, is Larry, his chest leaning on the mer-maid's stone, as we call it, his long bare legs stretched out behind, kicking occasionally, as a gadfly or merry-hopper skips about, what he naturally considers lawful prey: his lower garments have evidently once been trowsers-blue trowsers; but as Larry, when in motion, is amphibious, they have experienced the decaying effects of salt water, and now only descend to the knee, where they terminate in unequal fringes. Indeed his frieze jacket is no great things, being much rubbed at the elbows-and no wonder, for Larry, when awake, is ever employed either in pelting the sea-gulls (who, to confess the truth, treat him with very little respect), rowing his boat, or watching the circles which the large and small pebbles he throws in, form on the surface of the calm waters; and as Larry, of course, rests his arm, while he performs the above-named exploits, the sleeves must wear, for frieze is not " impenetrable stuff." His hat is a natural curiosity, composed of sunburnt straw, banded by a misshapen sea-ribbon, and garnished by " delisk," red and green-his cutty pipe, stuck through a slit in the brim, which bends it directly over the left eye, and keeps it "quite handy widout ony trouble." His bushy reddish hair persists in obstinately pushing its way out of every hole in this extraordinary hat, or clusters strangely over his Herculean shoulders--and a low, furrowed brow, very unpromising in the eye of a phrenologist;

in truth, Larry has somewhat of a dogged expression of countenance, which is relieved, at times, by the humourous twinkling of his little grey eyes-pretty much in the manner that a star or two illume the dreary blank of a cloudy November night. The most conspicuous part of his attire, however, is an undressed, wide leather belt, that passes over one shoulder, and then under another strap of the same material that encircles his waist: from this depends a rough wooden case, containing his whisky bottle; a long narrow knife; pieces of rope of various length and thickness; and a pouch which contains the money he earns in his "vocation."

"Good morrow, Larry!" "Good morrow kindly, my lady! may be ye'r going across?"

"No, thank ye, Larry, but there is a silver sixpence for good luck."

"Ough! God's blessing be about ye! I said so to my woman this morning, and she bothering the sowl out o' me for money, as if I could make myself into silver, let alone brass:-asy, says I, what trouble ye takes; sure we had a good dinner yesterday; and more by tokens the grawls were so plased wid the mate, the craturs! sorra' a morsel o' pratee they'd put in their mouths;and we'll have as good a one to-day." "The ferry is absolutely filled with fish, Larry, if you would only take the trouble to catch it!”

"Is it fish? Ough! Sorra' fancy I have for fasting-mate-besides it's mighty wat'ry, and a dale of trouble to catch. A grate baste of a cod lept into my boat yesterday, and I laying just here, and the boat close up; I thought it would ha' sted asy while I hollooed to Tom, who was near breaking his neck after the samphire for the quality, the gomersal!-but, my jewil! it was whip and away wid it all in a minit, back to the water. Smallloss!" "But, Larry, it would have made an excellent dinner."

"Sure, I'm after telling ye'r ladyship that we had a rale mate dinner by good luck yesterday."

"But to-day, by your own confession, you had nothing."

"Sure you've just given me sixpence."

-"But suppose I had not!"

"Where's the good of thinking that now?"

"Oh, Larry! I'm afraid you never think of to-morrow!"

"There's not a man in the whole parish of Bannow thinks more of it nor I do," responded Larry, raising himself up; "and to prove it to ye, madam dear, we'll have a wet night; I see the sign of it for all the sun's so bright, both in the air and the water."

"Then, Larry, take my advice, go home and mend the great hole that is in the thatch of your cabin."

"Is it the hole! where's the good of losing time about it now, when the weather's so fine?"

"But when the rain comes?"

" Lord bless ye, my lady, sure 1 can't hinder the rain!-and sure its fitter for me to stand under the roof in a dry spot than to go out in the teams to stop up a taste of a hole. Sorra' a drop comes through it in dry weather."

"Larry, you truly need not waste so much time: it is ten chances to one if you get a single fare to-day, and here you stay doing nothing. You might usefully employ yourself by a little foresight."

"Would ye have me desert my trust? Sure I must mind the boat. But God bless ye, ma'am darlint, don't be so hard intirely upon me; for I get a dale of blame I don't by no manner of means desarve. My wife turns at me as wicked as a weazel, becase I gave my consint to our Nancy's marrying Matty Quough; and she says they were bad to come together on account that they hadn't enough to pay the priest; and the upshot of the matter is, that the girl and a grandchild is come back upon

us; and the husband is off-God knows where."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Larry; but your son James, by this time, must be able to assist you.".

"There it is again, my lady! James was never very bright, and his mother was always at him, plaguing his life out to go to Mister Ben's school, and saying a dale about the time to come; but I didn't care to bother the cratur, and I'm sorry to say he's turned out rather obstinate; and even the priest says its becase I never think of tomorrow."

"I am glad to find the priest is of my opinion; but tell me, have you fatted the pig Mr. Herriott gave you?"

"Oh, my bitter curse (axing ye'r pardon, my lady) be upon all the pigs in and out of Ireland! that pig has been the ruin of me-it has such a taste for ateing young ducks as never was in the world; and I always tethers him by the leg when I'm going out; but he's so acute now, he cuts the tether."

"Why not confine him in a stye, you are close to the quarry, and could build one in half-an-hour?"

"Is it'a stye for the likes of him! cock him up with a stye! Och Musha! Musha! the tether keeps him asy for the day!"

"But not for the morrow, Larry." "Now ye'r at me again-you that always stood my friend. Meala-murder, if there is'nt Rashleigh Jones making signs for the boat! Oh! ye'r in a hurry are ye? well, ye' must wait till ye'r hurry is over. I'm not going to hurry myself, wid whisky in my bottle, and sixpence in my pocket, for priest or minister.?"

"But the more you earn the better, Larry."

"Sure I've enough for to-day." "But not for to-morrow, Larry." "True for ye, ma'am dearthough people takes a dale o' trouble, I'm thinking, when they've full and plenty at the same time; and I don't like bothering about it then, and it 'll be all the same in a handred years. Sure I see you plain enough, Master Rashleigh. -God help me I broke the oar yesterday, and never thought to get it mended, and my head's splitting open with the pain. I took a drop too much last night, and that makes me fit for nothing -"

"On the morrow, Larry."

"Faith! ma'am dear, you're too bad. Oh dear! If I'd had the sense to set the lobster-pots last night, what a power I'd ha' caught; they're dancing the hays merrily down there, the cowardly blackguardsbut I did not think-"

"Of the morrow, Larry." "Oh then let me alone, lady dear! What will I do wid the oar? Jim Connor gave me a beautiful piece of strong rope yesterday, but I did 'nt want it-and-- I believe one of the childre got hold of itI did'nt think-"

"Of the morrow, Larry!"

" By dad I have it! I can poke the coble on with this ould-pitchfork; there's not much good in it; but never heed-it's the master's; and he's too much of a jontleman to mind trifles; though I'm thinking times an't as good wid him now as they used to be; for Barney Clarey tould Nelly Parell, who tould Tom Lavery, who tould it out forenent me and a dale more genteel men who were taking a drop o' comfort at St. Patrick's, as how they bottle the whisky and salt the mate at the big house; and if that isn't a bad sign I don't know what is; though we may thank the English housekeeper for it I'm thinking, wid her beaver bonnet and her yellow silk shawl, that my wife (who knows the differ) says, after all, is only calico-cotton."

"What do you mean by bottling the whisky and salting the mate, Larry?"

"Now, don't be coming over us after that fashion; maybe ye don't know, indeed? Sure the right way, my lady, is to have the whisky upon draught; and then it's so refreshing of a hot summer's day to take a good hearty swig; and in the winter-by the powers! Ma'am, honey, let me just take the liberty of advising you never to desart the whisky; it'll always keep the could out o' ye'r heart, and the trouble from ye'r eye. Sure the clargy take to it, and the lawyers take to it, far before new milk; and his holiness the Pope-God bless him-to say nothing of the King (who's the first king of hearts we ever had) drinks nothing but Innishown, which, to my taste, hasn't half the fire of the rale Potteen. It's next to a deadly sin to bottle whisky in a jontleman's house; and as to salting mate!sure the ancient Irish fashion-the fashion of the good ould times, is just to kill the baste, and thin hang it by the legs in a convanient place; and, to be sure, every one can take a part of what they like best."

"But do you know that the English think of to-morrow, Larry?"

"Ay, the tame negres! that's the way they get rich, and sniff at the world, my jewil; and they no oulder in it than Henry the Second; for sure if there had been English before his time, its long sorry they'd ha' been to let Ireland alone."

"Do you think so, indeed, Larry?"

"I'll prove it to ye, my lady, if ye'll jist wait till I bring over that impatient chap, Rashleigh Jones, who's ever running after the day, as if he hadn't a bit to ate:-there, d'ye see him? he's dancing mad; he may just as well take it asy. It's such as him give people the feaver. There's that devil of a goat grinning at me; sorra' a drop of milk can we get from her, for she won't stand quiet for a body to catch her; and my wife's not able,

and I'm not willing, to go capering over the cliffs. Never mind! sure whisky is better nor milk."

At last Larry and his boat are off, by the assistance of the pitchfork, and most certainly he does not hurry himself; but where is Rashleigh going to? As I live! he has got into Mr. Dorkin's pleasure boat, that has just turned the corner of the island, and will be at this side before Larry gets to the other. Larry will not easily pardon this encroachment; not because of the money, but because of his privilege. I have heard it rumoured that if Larry does not become more active, he will lose his situation; but I cannot believe it: he is, when fairly on the water, the most careful boatman in the county; and permit me to mention, in sotto voce (I would not have it repeated for the world) - that his master could not possibly dismiss him on the charge of heedlessness, because he himself once possessed unincumbered property by field and flood-wooded hills, verdant vales, and pure-gushing rivers. Those fair heritages are, however, unfortunately passing into the hands of other proprietors; and the hair of the generous, good-natured landlord has become white; and sorrow has furrowed his brow, long before sixty summers have glowed upon his head. His children, too, do not hold that station in society to which their birth entitles them; and latterly he has not been so often on the grand jury, nor at the new member's dinners. The poor love him as well as ever; but the rich have neglected, in a great degree, his always hospitable board. Rats, it is said, desert a falling house: have nobles, then, the same propensity? Be it as it may, the parish priest told me, in confidence, that all the change originated in our excellent friend's never thinking of TO-MORROW. Friendship's Offering, 1830.

Tales of the Sea.

THE PRIVATEER.

(Continued from page 269.)

When the warriors of the plaid (said Norman) commence the attack, they are urged on by the spirit-stirring pibroch of their clans, recalling to memory the deeds of their gallant sires; and every corps in the field of battle is roused to a lofty enthusiasm and daring, by the stormy music of the drum, or the martial strains of the warhorn. But here there was no such excitement:-save the gentle roar at her bows, as she cut rapidly through the summer sea, the occasional kiss of a sportive wave on her sides, or the flutter of the fore-leech of a sail on the frequent lull of the breeze-saving these, there was a death-like, a prophetic silence on board of the Dolphin. A pin, dropped from the hand, might have been heard to fall upon her decks.

Some gazed upon their fellows, as if to say "Our lives are at stake; if captured, yon yard-arm will be our gibbet. We must stand by each other to the last!" I was myself seized at this moment with a feeling, for which I scarce know whether to credit my courage or my unaccountable apathy. I was certainly very composed, and carried my passion for observation on human character, in difficulty and in danger, to as great a pitch as if I had been witnessing a melo-drame, in which the same beings were represented. I had got my marines, about fifteen in number, ranged on the quarter deck, each with a musket in his hand. I had examined all these deadly tubes, and found them to be chiefly of the most villanous Birmingham manufacture; but there was no remedy. I observed the countenances of the whole crew. The captain, who was loading his blunderbuss, appeared exactly as I have seen him when chalking his queue, to play a game of billiards. His dark hazel eye was, indeed, lighted up with greater brilliancy; but his sun-burnt and comely countenance was unmoved, save when, on an occasional glance at the black flag of the enemy, his upper lip seemed to curve as in contempt and defiance. He leisurely observed the approach of the enemy, who was to windward, and now and then mildly said to the helmsman "Keep her full, John. Let her walk!" -The French mate was a fearless little man. He watched M - 's orders with the eye of an eagle, and, looking occasionally on the enemy, gave vent to his feelings by blowing a match he held in his hand, eager for orders to fire the long gun -or uttering a "Sacre tonnerre de Dieu!"

Some I observed with a quivering and pallid lip; not, however, the effect of cowardice, as I afterwards found. It was but the momentary rush of the vital fluid to the heart -the working of the proud spirit within, that seemed to fear nothing but the chance of dying unavenged; -for Captain Mhad about him the indefinable power of commanding the respect and obedience of his crew; and every man of them felt that his manhood-his very existence-was at stake upon the issue of the contest.

Our second mate, the Irishman, was in appearance a picturesque sort of a being. He was about thirty-eight years of age; had been a captain of a merchant vessel, after serving on board a man-of-war; and was, as well from follies as misfortunes, a disappointed and desperate man. He had a clear, round, and ruddy complexion; and a protruding, drunken-look eye. He generally wore a large quid of tobacco in his cheek, which remained undisturbed-giving his face a bulge, or list, as sailors would say, to one side; and this quid he seldom re

moved, saving upon occasions like the present, when he hove it about on the other tack, -emitting at the same time a mouthful of very nate and gentlemany oaths. Though good-natured to those whom he knew, it was evident that, in his dislikes, there was very little of the quality of mercy; and judging from his contempt of danger, and his hatred of every thing like oppression, I never saw a man who more thoroughly represented, to my mind, a red-hot Irishman-a disciple of the renowned Captain Rock, of one of those men, who, in the van of desperadoes, as the occasion excites, is ready to fire a barn, or to rescue a captive kinsman at the point of the scythe. His carrotty locks hung in thick and clotted curls: from canvas cap of his own manufacture. He had a villanous pair of red whiskers, that almost usurped his entire visage; and there was a vicious and sinister leer in his eye, that seemed to indicate that he had ever something to avenge, and would care little whether he spoke his feelings from the mouth of the "Long Tom" of a privateer, or from a two-pounder, mounted, on shore, on a wheebarrow. Patrick O Flinn was, in verity, a broth of a boy!

a

There was another man on board, an American, to whom he was wont to draw with a sort of bro-therly affection. This man was a back-woodsman of Kentucky. His hair, of dirty red, hanging, like teased-out rope-yarns, in strait and coarse masses from a brimless hat, -half concealed his red, freckled, Indian-looking countenance, and his ever-restless grey eyes. He was about six feet two in altitude, and so lank withal, that you might as well-if inclined to make game of him-as Shakspeare says, "have taken aim at the edge of a penknife." His retort, however, on such a compliment being paid to him, was