` I 've no glass , Maurice , ' said Paddy ; ` I 've only the bottle . ' ` Let that be no hindrance , ' answered Maurice ; ` my mouth just holds a glass to the drop ; often I 've tried it sure . ' So Paddy Dorman trusted him with the bottle -- more fool was he ; and , to his cost , he found that though Maurice 's mouth might not hold more than the glass at one time , yet , owing to the hole in his throat , it took many a filling . ` That was no bad whisky neither , ' says Maurice , handing back the empty bottle . ` By the holy frost , then ! ' says Paddy , '' tis but cold comfort there 's in that bottle now ; and 't is your word we must take for the strength of the whisky , for you 've left us no sample to judge by ' ; and to be sure Maurice had not . Now I need not tell any gentleman or lady that if he or she was to drink an honest bottle of whisky at one pull , it is not at all the same thing as drinking a bottle of water ; and in the whole course of my life I never knew more than five men who could do so without being the worse . Of these Maurice Connor was not one , though he had a stiff head enough of his own . Do n't think I blame him for it ; but true is the word that says , ` When liquor 's in sense is out ' ; and puff , at a breath , out he blasted his wonderful tune . 'T was really then beyond all belief or telling the dancing . Maurice himself could not keep quiet ; staggering now on one leg , now on the other , and rolling about like a ship in a cross sea , trying to humour the tune . There was his mother , too , moving her old bones as light as the youngest girl of them all ; but her dancing , no , nor the dancing of all the rest , is not worthy the speaking about to the work that was going on down upon the strand . Every inch of it covered with all manner of fish jumping and plunging about to the music , and every moment more and more would tumble in and out of the water , charmed by the wonderful tune . Crabs of monstrous size spun round and round on one claw with the nimbleness of a dancing master , and twirled and tossed their other claws about like limbs that did not belong to them . It was a sight surprising to behold . But perhaps you may have heard of Father Florence Conry , as pleasant a man as one would wish to drink with of a hot summer 's day ; and he had rhymed out all about the dancing fishes so neatly that it would be a thousand pities not to give you his verses ; so here they are in English : The big seals in motion , Like waves of the ocean , Or gouty feet prancing , Came heading the gay fish , Crabs , lobsters , and cray-fish , Determined on dancing . The sweet sounds they followed , The gasping cod swallow 'd -- 'T was wonderful , really ; And turbot and flounder , ` Mid fish that were rounder , Just caper 'd as gaily . John-dories came tripping ; Dull hake , by their skipping , To frisk it seem 'd given ; Bright mackrel went springing , Like small rainbows winging Their flight up to heaven . The whiting and haddock Left salt water paddock This dance to be put in ; Where skate with flat faces Edged out some old plaices ; But soles kept their footing . Sprats and herrings in powers Of silvery showers All number out-numbered ; And great ling so lengthy Was there in such plenty The shore was encumber 'd .
The scallop and oyster Their two shells did roister , XXXXX castanets flitting ; While limpets moved clearly , And rocks very nearly With laughter were splitting .
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