All the morning, Mrs.
Harris was awaiting anxiously more news about the great strike at
Harrisville.
"Land, on the port-side, sir!" shouted the forward lookout, just as four
bells struck the hour of ten o'clock. The officer on duty, pacing the
bridge, raised his glass and in a moment he answered, "Ay! Ay! The
Skelligs."
"What do they mean?" inquired Mrs. Harris of a sailor passing. "The
officer has sighted land, madam. Don't you see the specks of blue low
down on the horizon to the northeast? That's the Skelligs, three rocky
islets off the southwest coast of Ireland, near where I was born, and
where my wife Katy, and the babies live. That's where my dear old mother
also keeps watch for her Patsie."
"Is your name Patsie?" Alfonso asked.
"Yes, sir, Patsie Fitzgerald, and I'm proud of my name, my family, the
Emerald Isle, and the fine steamer that's taking us safely home, and may
God bless all you fine people, and keep my wife and babies and my dear
old mother!"
"Thank you!" said Alfonso, "here, Patsie, is a little money for the
babies," and the sailor tipped his hat and bowed his thanks.
The signal officer on Brea Head, Valentia Island, was soon exchanging
signals with the "Majestic," and five minutes later the sighting of the
"Majestic" was cabled to the Lloyds of Liverpool and London and back to
New York, via Valentia Bay, and it was known that evening in Harrisville
that the Harris family were safely nearing Queenstown.
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