Hugh Raymond's only information respecting this vessel was derived from advertisements, and the interested descriptions of her agents. Presuming both to be truthful, he had not hesitated to "secure" an intermediate berth on board, before an opportunity had offered of testing the accuracy of the representations made respecting her. Several mornings after her advertised time of sailing, Hugh, looking from his bedroom window, saw the ominous Blue Peter flying from the mast head of the "Big Ann," indicating that she would weigh anchor in a few hours. Hurrying to the Barbican, he found it already crowded by the free emigrants (very free indeed) going off to the ship in shore boats, the most fortunate of whom could boast, at the best, a bundle dangling at the end of a shillala over the shoulder; whilst the property of the greater proportion appeared to consist of little beyond their positive clothing — if indeed rags deserve such a name. The feeling that he was destined to endure a long voyage in the company of this heterogeneous multitude, most of whom were Irishmen, who were readily to be distinguished by the national weapon they carried, with scarcely an exception, did not tend to raise Hugh's spirits. Many of the poor people appeared to have undergone great privations, and their starved and care-worn countenances told many a sad tale of misery; but even their wretchedness could not obliterate the tenderness and sparkling wit so peculiar to their race.
One poor girl, whilst being assisted into the boat by a tall fellow, cried out in a pitiful voice, "Ohone ! ohone ! where's the counthry like this, barrin our own? — Where'll we find others like thim in the wide world?" Her full black eyes — for Rose Blaney's eyes were of the blackest, and her face of the prettiest, gazed with a mournful expression on the expanse of water before her. She continued — "Sure the big waves will spare an
