So there I was--dead and buried." "But, O'Brien," said I "Whist--hold your tongue--you've not heard the end of it.

Well, I had been buried about an hour--but not very deep it appears, for they were in too great a hurry--when a fisherman and his daughter came along the beach, on their way to the boat; and the daughter, God bless her! did me the favour to tread upon my nose.

It was clear that she had never trod upon an Irishman's nose before, for it surprised her, and she looked down to see what was there, and not seeing anything, she tried it again with her foot, and then she scraped off the sand, and discovered my pretty face.

I was quite warm and still breathing, for the sand had stopped the blood, and prevented my bleeding to death.

The fisherman pulled me out, and took me on his back to the house where the captain and officers were still dancing.