LOVE AND SEA SICKNESS. 149 



scissors, or a fishing line without a hook, or any other matter that is 

 no-ways complete. Is it not so?" said Dick Fitzgerald, casting 

 his eyes towards a rock upon the strand, which, though it could not 

 speak, stood up as firm and looked as bold as ever Kerry witness did. 



But what was his astonishment at beholding, just at the foot of 

 that rock, a beautiful young creature combing her hair, which was 

 of a sea-green colour, and now the salt water shining on it, appeared, 

 in the morning light, like melted butter upon cabbage. 



Dick guessed at once that she was a Merrow, although he had 

 never seen one before, for he spied the cohuleen driuth, or little en- 

 chanted cap, which the sea people use for diving down into the 

 ocean, lying upon the strand, near her; and he had heard, that if 

 once he could possess himself of the cap, she would lose the power 

 of going away in the water, so he seized it with all speed, and she, 

 hearing the noise, turned her head about as natural as any Christian. 



When the Merrow saw that her living little diving cap was gone, 

 the salt tears, — doubly salt, no doubt, from her — came trickling 

 down her cheeks, and she began a low mournful cry with just the 

 tender voice of a new-born infant, Dick, although he knew well 

 enough what she was crying for, determined to keep the cohuleen 

 driuth, let her cry never so much, to see what luck would come out 

 of it. 



Yet he could not help pitying her, and when the dumb thing 

 looked up in his face, and her cheeks all moist with tears, ^twas 

 enough to make any one feel, let alone Dick, who had ever and al- 

 ways, like most of his countrymen, a mighty tender heart of his own. 



" Don't cry, my darling," said Dick Fitzgerald ; but the Merrow^, 

 like any bold child, only cried the more for that. 



Dick sat himself down by her side, and took hold of her hand, 

 by way of comforting her. 'Twas in no particular an ugly hand, 

 only there was a small web between the fingers, as there is in a 

 duck's foot, but 'twas as thin and as white as the skin between egg 

 and shell. 



" What is your name, my darling ?" says Dick, thinking to make 

 her conversant with him, but he got no answer, and he was certain, 

 sure now, either that she could not speak, or did not understand 

 him, he therefore squeezed her hand in his, as the only w^ay he had 

 of talking to her. It's the universal language ; and there's not a 

 woman in the world, be she fish or lady, that does not understand it. 



The Merrow did not seem much displeased at this mode of con- 

 versation, and, making an end of her whining all at once, — " Man," 

 says she, looking up in Dick Fitzgerald's face, " Man, will you eat 

 me?" 



