They Are A Sad Set, Sir, A Sad Set.
We Could, Perhaps, Manage The Men; But The Women, Sir!
- The women!
Oh, sir!"
Anxious as we were to return to the ship, we were obliged to remain
until sun-down in our retired nook. We were hungry, tired, and out
of spirits; the mosquitoes swarmed in myriads around us, tormenting
the poor baby, who, not at all pleased with her first visit to the
new world, filled the air with cries, when the captain came to tell
us that the boat was ready. It was a welcome sound. Forcing our way
once more through the still squabbling crowd, we gained the landing
place. Here we encountered a boat, just landing a fresh cargo of
lively savages from the Emerald Isle. One fellow, of gigantic
proportions, whose long, tattered great-coat just reached below the
middle of his bare red legs, and, like charity, hid the defects of
his other garments, or perhaps concealed his want of them, leaped
upon the rocks, and flourishing aloft his shilelagh, bounded and
capered like a wild goat from his native mountains. "Whurrah! my
boys!" he cried, "Shure we'll all be jintlemen!"
"Pull away, my lads!" said the captain. Then turning to me, "Well,
Mrs. Moodie, I hope that you have had enough of Grosse Isle. But
could you have witnessed the scenes that I did this morning - "
Here he was interrupted by the wife of the old Scotch dragoon,
Mackenzie, running down to the boat and laying her hand familiarly
upon his shoulder, "Captain, dinna forget."
"Forget what?"
She whispered something confidentially in his ear.
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