"Tim's liker me, they say." His honour looked up with a significant nod.
"Well, Mike, I've said I'll see after one of the lads, for their dead mother's sake.

Which will it be ?" "I'm thinking of taking Tim with me," said my father.
"Very good.

I'll see to Barry then." "Och, father," I cried, "take me to sea." "Howld your tongue, ye puppy," said my father.

"Can't you hear his honour say he'll see to you?
There's many a lad would be glad of the chance." "But Tim hates the sea, and I--" "Be silent wid ye," roared my father, so angrily that he woke Tim.
"Tim," cried I, determined to make one more desperate effort, "you're to go to sea, and I'm to be kept ashore at Knockowen." "Sea, is it ?" roared Tim.

"I'll run away--no sea for me." "And I'll run away too," shouted I.