MARTIN RATTLER. O47

“So, then, you’re actually in charge of the mine?”
said Martin in surprise.

“ Jist so, boy; but I’m tired of it already—it’s by
no means so pleasant as I expected it would be—so
Tm thinkin’ o’ lavin’ it, and takin’ to the say again.
Tm longin’ dreadful to see the salt wather wance
more.”

“But what will the owner say, Barney? won’t he
have cause to complain of your breaking your en-
gagement ?”

“ Niver a bit, boy. He tould me, before we parted,
that if I wanted to quit I was to hand over the con-
sarn to the interpreter, who is an honest fellow, I
belave ; so I’m jist goin’ to pocket a dimond or two,
and ask lave to take them home wid me. I'll be off
in a week, if all goes well. An’ now, Martin, fill yer

glass—ye'll find the wine is not bad after wan or

 

two glasses—an’ I'll tell ye about my adventures
since I saw ye last.”

“But you have not explained about your name,”
said Martin.

“Och! the fact is, that when I comed here I
fortunately fell in with the owner first, and we spoke
almost intirely in Irish, so nobody understood where
J comed from; and the interpreter hear’d the master

call me by my name, so he wint off and said to’ the