your ould grandmother!' says the pig.

"`Ax me ould WHICH mother?' says the billy-goat.

"`Oh, ax me--' And before he could complete the sintence, ram, blam,
the ould billygoat butts him in the chist, and away goes the both of
thim whirtlin' into the say below.

"Thin me ould grandfather comes out, and collars me by the scruff, and
`Into the sty with you!' says he; and into the sty I wint, and there
they kep' me for a fortnit on bran mash and skim milk--and well I
desarved it."

They dined somewhere about eleven o'clock, and at noon Paddy unstepped
the mast and made a sort of little tent or awning with the sail in the
bow of the boat to protect the children from the rays of the vertical
sun.

Then he took his place in the bottom of the boat, in the stern, stuck
Dick's straw hat over his face to preserve it from the sun, kicked
about a bit to get a comfortable position, and fell asleep.

CHAPTER VIII

"S-H-E-N-A-N-D-O-A-H"

He had slept an hour and more when he was brought to his senses by a
thin and prolonged shriek. It was Emmeline in a nightmare, or more
properly a day-mare, brought on by a meal of sardines and the haunting
memory of the gibbly-gobbly-ums. When she was shaken (it always took a
considerable time to bring her to, from these seizures) and comforted,
the mast was restepped.

As Mr Button stood with his hand on the spar looking round him before
going aft with the sheet, an object struck his eye some three miles
ahead. Objects rather, for they were the masts and spars of a small
ship rising from the water. Not a vestige of sail, just the naked
spars. It might have been a couple of old skeleton trees jutting out of
the water for all a landsman could have told.

He stared at this sight for twenty or thirty seconds without speaking,
his head projected like the head of a tortoise. Then he gave a wild
"Hurroo!"

"What is it, Paddy?" asked Dick.

"Hurroo!" replied Button. "Ship ahoy! ship ahoy! Lie to till I be
afther boardin' you. Sure, they are lyin' to--divil a rag of canvas on
her--are they aslape or dhramin'? Here, Dick, let me get aft wid the
sheet; the wind'll take us up to her quicker than we'll row."

He crawled aft and took the tiller; the breeze took the sail, and the
boat forged ahead.

"Is it daddy's ship?" asked Dick, who was almost as excited as his
friend.

"I dinno; we'll see when we fetch her."

"Shall we go on her, Mr Button?" asked Emmeline.

"Ay will we, honey."