"'Blessed St. Patrick!' croaked the voice, 'whativer are ye kicking up
such a shindy out there for? Whativer d'ye want wid an old woman, and
niver a livin' sowl in the house 'cept meself and Kathleen in her
coffin?'
"'Kathleen is dead, then?' said the lieutenant with a grin.
"'Save yer honor's presence, she's off to glory, an' as dead as a
herrin,' replied the voice.
"'Really!' said the lieutenant, 'and where is Phil Doolan?'
"'Och, yer honor? he's gone to get some potheen for the wake.'
"'Well,' said the lieutenant, 'I should like to take a share in waking
the defunct--what's her name?'
"'Kathleen, yer honor.'
"'Well, just let us in to take a last look at the worthy creature.'
"The door then creaked on its rusty hinges, and we entered. Not a
soul, however, was to be seen anywhere, save and except the old woman
herself. The coffin containing the remains of Kathleen, resting on two
stools, stood in the middle of the floor, with a plate of salt as
usual on the lid. I fairly thought I had been done, and looked upon
myself as the laughing stock of the entire fleet."
"So far," remarked Jack, "your story has been all right, but the last
episode was rather negligently handled."
"How?" inquired Willis.
"Why, you did not make enough of the coffin scene; your description is
too meagre.
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