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Ballantyne, R. M. (Robert Michael), 1825-1894

"The World of Ice"


"Och! but ye're too fond o' me intirely, Doo lie down agin, and I'll
sing ye a ditty?"
True to his word, O'Riley sat down by the dog-kennel, and gave vent to a
howl which his "owld grandmother," he said, "used to sing to the pig;"
and whether it was the effects of this lullaby, or of the cold, it is
impossible to say, but O'Riley at length succeeded in slipping away and
regaining the ship, unobserved by his canine friends. Half-an-hour later
he went on deck to take a mouthful of fresh air before supper, and on
looking over the side he saw the whole pack of dogs lying in a circle
close to the ship, with Dumps comfortably asleep in the middle, and
using Poker's back for a pillow.
"Faix, but ye must be fond of the cowld to lie there all night when
ye've got a palace on Store Island."
"Fond of society, rather," observed Captain Guy, who came on deck at the
moment; "the poor creatures cannot bear to be left alone. It is a
strange quality in dogs which I have often observed before."
"Have ye, capting? Sure I thought it was all owin' to the bad manners o'
that baste Dumps, which is for iver leadin' the other dogs into
mischief."
"Supper's ready, sir," said Mivins, coming up the hatchway, and touching
his cap.
"Look here, Mivins," said O'Riley, as the captain went below, "can you
point out the mornin' star to me, lad?"
"The morning star?" said Mivins slowly, as he thrust his hands into the
breast of his jumper, and gazed upwards into the dark sky, where the
starry host blazed in Arctic majesty.


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