MARTIN RATTLER. 183

on these logs and islands until they descended several
hundreds of miles of the great river.

“T wish,” said Martin, after a long silence, during
which the travellers had been gazing on the watery
waste as they paddled up stream—‘“I wish that we
could fall in with solid land, where we might have
something cooked. I’m desperately hungry now ; but
I don’t see a spot of earth large enough for a mos-
quito to rest his foot on.”

“We'll jist have to take to farhina and wather,”
remarked Barney, laying down his paddle and pro-
ceeding leisurely to light his pipe. “It’s a blissin’
we've got baccy, anyhow. ‘Tis mesilf that could
niver git on without it.”

“JT wish you joy of it, Barney. It may fill your
mouth, but it can’t stop your hunger.”

“Och, boy, it’s little ye know. Sure it stops the
cravin’s o’ hunger, and kapes yer stumick from callin’
out for iver, till ye fall in with somethin’ to ate.”

“Tt does not seem to stop the mouth, then, Barney,
for you call out for grub oftener than I do. And then
you say that you couldn’t get on without it, so you're
a slave to it, old boy. I wouldn’t be a slave to any-
thing if I could help it.”

“Martin, lad, ye’re gittin’ deep. Take care now,

or yell be in mettlefeesics soon—I say, ould black-