"There he is, Rooney,--do you see him ?" "Aye, bad cess to the black divil, I say him well enough, sorr," returned Tim, carefully putting a fresh cartridge into the chamber of his weapon.

"Begorra, I thought I'd kilt the beggar a dozen toimes alriddy; but he's got the luck of ould Nick, an' sames to save his skin somehow or ither.

Here goes for him ag'in--take that now, ye ould thaife!" "Ping!" But the pirate captain, as the tall dark man in the stern of the proa seemed to be, only let fall the long crease which he had held in his right hand brandishing at us, the bullet from Tim's rifle having broken his arm, that also dropped powerless by his side.
"You nearly had him there," cried Mr Mackay, now taking a shot.

"I hope I'll have better luck though." "I hope ye will, sorr," heartily echoed Tim.

"I mint to riddle his carkiss an ownly winged him.