It may readily be supposed, that the first question asked by Mr Vanslyperken, on his gaining the quarter-deck, was, if Snarleyyow were on board. He was received with the military salute of Corporal Van Spitter, for Obadiah Coble, having been left commanding officer, had given himself leave, and, with a few men, had joined Dick Short and the first party at the Lust Haus, leaving the corporal as the next senior officer in charge. The answer in the negative was a great mortification to Mr Vanslyperken, and he descended to his cabin in no very good humour, and summoned Smallbones. But before Smallbones was summoned, he had time to whisper to one or two of the conspirators--"He's gone." It was enough; in less than a minute the whisper was passed throughout the cutter. "He's gone," was sibilated above and below, until it met the ears of even Corporal Van Spitter, who had it from a marine, who had it from another marine, who had it from a seaman, who--but it was, however, soon traced up to Smallbones by the indefatigable corporal--who considered it his duty to report the report to Mr Vanslyperken. Accordingly he descended to the cabin and knocked for admission.
In the meantime Vanslyperken had been venting his ill-humour upon Smallbones, having, as he took off from his person, and replaced in his drawers, his unusual finery, administered an unusual quantity of kicks, as well as a severe blow on the head with his sheathed cutlass to the unfortunate lad, who repeated to himself, by way of consolation, the magic words--"He's gone."
"If you please, sir," said Corporal Van Spitter, "I've discovered from the ship's company that the dogis gone."
"I know that, corporal," replied Vanslyperken.
"And, sir, the report has been traced to Smallbones."
"Indeed!--then it was you that said that the dog is gone--now, you villain, where is he?"
"If you please, I did say that the dog was gone, and so he is; but I didn't say that I knew where he was--no more I don't. He's runned away, and he'll be back to-morrow--I'm sure he will."
"Corporal Van Spitter, if the dog is not on board again by eight o'clock to-morrow morning, you will get all ready for keel-hauling this scoundrel."
"Yes, mynheer," replied the corporal, delighted at having something to do in the way of punishment.
Smallbones made up a lachrymal face.
"It's very hard," said he; "suppose the dog has fallen into the canal, is that my fault? If he's a-gone to the bottom of the canal, that's no reason why I'm to be dragged under the bottom of the cutter."
"Yes, yes," replied Vanslyperken, "I'll teach you to throw paving-stones off the wharf. Leave the cabin, sir."
Smallbones, whose guilty conscience flew into his pallid face at the mention of the paving-stones, immediately made a hasty retreat; and Vanslyperken turned into his bed and dreamt of vengeance.
We must now return to the Lust Haus, and the party on shore; and our first task must be, to give the reader an idea of what a Lust Haus may be. It is, as its name imports, a resort for pleasure and amusement; and in this respect the Dutch are certainly very much in advance of the English, who have, in the pot-houses and low inns resorted to by seamen, no accommodation of the kind. There is barely room for Jack to foot it in a reel, the tap-room is so small; and as Jack is soon reeling after he is once on shore, it is a very great defect. Now, the Lust Haus is a room as large as an assembly-room in a country-town, well lighted up with lamps and chandeliers, well warmed with stoves, where you have room to dance fifty reels at once, and still have plenty of accommodation at the chairs and tables ranged round on each side. At the end of the room is a raised chair, with a protecting railing, on which the musicians, to the number of seven or eight, are posted, and they continue during the evening to play when requested. The people of the Lust Haus furnish wine and spirits of every description, while cakes, nuts, walnuts, oranges, &c, are supplied from the baskets of numerous young women who hand them round, and press their customers to purchase. Police officers superintend these resorts to remove those who are violent, and interfere with the amusements of others. On the whole, it is a very gay scene, and is resorted to by seamen of all nations, with a sprinkling of those who are not sailors, but who like amusement, and there are plenty of females who are ready to dance with them, and to share their beer or grog. Be it further known, that there is a great deal of decorum in a Lust Haus, particularly among the latter sex; and altogether it is infinitely more rational and less debasing, than the low pot-houses of Portsmouth or Plymouth.
Such was the place of amusement kept by the Frau Vandersloosh, and in this large room had been seated, for some hours, Dick Short, Coble, Jansen, Jemmy Ducks, and some others of the crew of his Majesty's cutterYungfrau.
The room was now full, but not crowded, it was too spacious well to be so. Some sixteen couples were dancing a quadrille to a lively tune played by the band, and among the dancers were to be seen old women, and children of ten or twelve: for it was not considered improper to be seen dancing at this humble assembly, and the neighbours frequently came in. The small tables and numerous chairs round the room were nearly all filled, beer was foaming from the mouths of the opened bottles, and there was the ringing of the glasses as they pledged each other. At several tables were assemblages of Dutch seamen, who smoked with all the phlegm of their nation, as they gravely looked upon the dancers. At another were to be seen some American seamen, scrupulously neat in their attire, and with an airdistinguee, from the superiority of their education, and all of them quiet and sober. The basket-women flitted about displaying their stores, and invited every one to purchase fruit, and particularly hard-boiled eggs, which they had brought in at this hour, when those who dined at one might be expected to be hungry. Sailors' wives were also there, and perhaps some who could not produce the marriage certificates; but as these were not asked for at the door, it was of no consequence. About the centre of the room, at two small tables joined together, were to be seen the party from theYungfrau: some were drinking beer, some grog, and Jemmy Ducks was perched on the table, with his fiddle as usual held like a bass viol. He was known by those who frequented the house by the name of the Manikin, and was a universal object of admiration and good-will. The quadrille was ended, and the music stopped playing.
"Come now," said Coble, tossing off his glass, "spell oh!--let's have a song while they take their breath. Jemmy, strike up."
"Hurrah for a song!" cries Jemmy. "Here goes."
Jemmy then tuned one string of his fiddle, which was a little out, and accompanying his voice, sang as follows: all those who were present immediately keeping silence, for they were used to Jemmy's melody.
Twas on the twenty-fourth of June, I sailed away to sea,I turned my pockets in the lap of Susan on my knee;Says I, my dear, 'tis all I have, I wish that it was more,It can't be helped, says Susan then, you know we've spent galore.
You know we've spent galore, my Bill,And merry have been we,Again you must your pockets fill,For Susan on your knee.
You know we've spent galore, my Bill,And merry have been we,Again you must your pockets fill,For Susan on your knee.
You know we've spent galore, my Bill,
And merry have been we,
Again you must your pockets fill,
For Susan on your knee.
"Chorus, my boys--"
For Susan on my knee, my boys,With Susan on my knee.
For Susan on my knee, my boys,With Susan on my knee.
For Susan on my knee, my boys,
With Susan on my knee.
The gale came on in thunder, lads, in lightning, and in foam,Before that we had sail'd away three hundred miles from home;And on the Sunday morning, lads, the coast was on our lee,Oh, then I thought of Portsmouth, and of Susan on my knee.
For howling winds and waves to boot,With black rocks on the lee,Did not so well my fancy suit,As Susan on my knee.Chorus.--With Susan on my knee, my boys,With Susan on my knee.
For howling winds and waves to boot,With black rocks on the lee,Did not so well my fancy suit,As Susan on my knee.
For howling winds and waves to boot,
With black rocks on the lee,
Did not so well my fancy suit,
As Susan on my knee.
Chorus.--With Susan on my knee, my boys,With Susan on my knee.
Chorus.--
With Susan on my knee, my boys,
With Susan on my knee.
Next morning we were cast away upon the Frenchman's shore,We saved our lives, but not our all, for we could save no more;They marched us to a prison, so we lost our liberty,I peeped between the bars, and sighed for Susan on my knee.
For bread so black, and wine so sour,And a son a-day to me,Made me long ten times an hour,For Susan on my knee.Chorus--For Susan on my knee, my boys,For Susan on my knee.
For bread so black, and wine so sour,And a son a-day to me,Made me long ten times an hour,For Susan on my knee.
For bread so black, and wine so sour,
And a son a-day to me,
Made me long ten times an hour,
For Susan on my knee.
Chorus--For Susan on my knee, my boys,For Susan on my knee.
Chorus--
For Susan on my knee, my boys,
For Susan on my knee.
One night we smashed our jailer's skull and off our boat did steer,And in the offing were picked up by a jolly privateer;We sailed in her the cruise, my boys, and prizes did take we,I'll be at Portsmouth soon, thinks I, with Susan on my knee.
We shared three hundred pounds a man,I made all sail with glee,Again I danced and tossed my can,With Susan on my knee.Chorus.--With Susan on my knee, my boys,With Susan on my knee.
We shared three hundred pounds a man,I made all sail with glee,Again I danced and tossed my can,With Susan on my knee.
We shared three hundred pounds a man,
I made all sail with glee,
Again I danced and tossed my can,
With Susan on my knee.
Chorus.--With Susan on my knee, my boys,With Susan on my knee.
Chorus.--
With Susan on my knee, my boys,
With Susan on my knee.
"That's prime, Jemmy. Now, my boys, all together," cried Obadiah Coble.
Chorus.--Very good song, and very well sung,Jolly companions every one;We are all here for mirth and glee,We are all here for jollity.Very good song, and very well sung,Jolly companions every one;Put your hats on to keep your heads warm,A little more grog will do us no harm.
Chorus.--Very good song, and very well sung,Jolly companions every one;We are all here for mirth and glee,We are all here for jollity.Very good song, and very well sung,Jolly companions every one;Put your hats on to keep your heads warm,A little more grog will do us no harm.
Chorus.--Very good song, and very well sung,
Jolly companions every one;
We are all here for mirth and glee,
We are all here for jollity.
Very good song, and very well sung,
Jolly companions every one;
Put your hats on to keep your heads warm,
A little more grog will do us no harm.
"Hurrah! now, Bill Spurey, suppose you tip us a stave. But I say, Babette, you Dutch-built galliot, tell old Frank Slush to send us another dose of the stuff; and d'ye hear, a short pipe for me, and a paper o' baccy."
The short, fat Babette, whose proportions all the exercise of waiting upon the customers could not reduce, knew quite enough English to require no further explanation.
"Come, Jemmy, my hearty, take your fingers off your fiddle, and hand in your pot," continued Coble; "and then if they are not going to dance, we'll have another song. Bill Spurey, wet your whistle, and just clear the cobwebs out of your throat. Here's more 'baccy, Short."
Short made no reply, but he shook out the ashes and filled his pipe. The music did not strike up again, so Bill Spurey sang as follows:--
Says the parson one day, as I cursed a Jew,Do you know, my lad, that we call it a sin?I fear of you sailors there are but few,St Peter, to heaven, will ever let in.Says I, Mr Parson, to tell you my mind,No sailors to knock were ever yet seen,Those who travel by land may steer 'gainst wind,But we shape a course for Fidler's Green.For Fidler's Green, where seamen true,When here they've done their duty,The bowl of grog shall still renewAnd pledge to love and beauty.Says the parson, I hear you've married three wives,Now do you not know, that that is a sin?You sailors, you lead such very bad lives,St Peter, to heaven, will ne'er let you inParson, says I, in each port I've butone,And never had more, wherever I've been;Below I'm obliged to be chaste as a nun,But I'm promised a dozen at Fidler's Green.At Fidler's Green, where seamen true,When here they've done their duty,The bowl of grog shall still renew,And pledge to love and beauty.Says the parson, says he, you're drunk, my man,And do you not know that that is a sin?If you sailors will ever be swigging your can,To heaven you surely will never get in.(Hiccup.) Parson, you may as well be mum,'Tis only on shore I'm this way seen;But oceans of punch, and rivers of rum,Await the sailor at Fidler's Green.At Fidler's Green, where seamen true,When here they've done their duty,The bowl of grog shall still renew,And pledge to love and beauty.
Says the parson one day, as I cursed a Jew,Do you know, my lad, that we call it a sin?I fear of you sailors there are but few,St Peter, to heaven, will ever let in.Says I, Mr Parson, to tell you my mind,No sailors to knock were ever yet seen,Those who travel by land may steer 'gainst wind,But we shape a course for Fidler's Green.
Says the parson one day, as I cursed a Jew,
Do you know, my lad, that we call it a sin?
I fear of you sailors there are but few,
St Peter, to heaven, will ever let in.
Says I, Mr Parson, to tell you my mind,
No sailors to knock were ever yet seen,
Those who travel by land may steer 'gainst wind,
But we shape a course for Fidler's Green.
For Fidler's Green, where seamen true,When here they've done their duty,The bowl of grog shall still renewAnd pledge to love and beauty.
For Fidler's Green, where seamen true,
When here they've done their duty,
The bowl of grog shall still renew
And pledge to love and beauty.
Says the parson, I hear you've married three wives,Now do you not know, that that is a sin?You sailors, you lead such very bad lives,St Peter, to heaven, will ne'er let you inParson, says I, in each port I've butone,And never had more, wherever I've been;Below I'm obliged to be chaste as a nun,But I'm promised a dozen at Fidler's Green.
Says the parson, I hear you've married three wives,
Now do you not know, that that is a sin?
You sailors, you lead such very bad lives,
St Peter, to heaven, will ne'er let you in
Parson, says I, in each port I've butone,
And never had more, wherever I've been;
Below I'm obliged to be chaste as a nun,
But I'm promised a dozen at Fidler's Green.
At Fidler's Green, where seamen true,When here they've done their duty,The bowl of grog shall still renew,And pledge to love and beauty.
At Fidler's Green, where seamen true,
When here they've done their duty,
The bowl of grog shall still renew,
And pledge to love and beauty.
Says the parson, says he, you're drunk, my man,And do you not know that that is a sin?If you sailors will ever be swigging your can,To heaven you surely will never get in.(Hiccup.) Parson, you may as well be mum,'Tis only on shore I'm this way seen;But oceans of punch, and rivers of rum,Await the sailor at Fidler's Green.
Says the parson, says he, you're drunk, my man,
And do you not know that that is a sin?
If you sailors will ever be swigging your can,
To heaven you surely will never get in.
(Hiccup.) Parson, you may as well be mum,
'Tis only on shore I'm this way seen;
But oceans of punch, and rivers of rum,
Await the sailor at Fidler's Green.
At Fidler's Green, where seamen true,When here they've done their duty,The bowl of grog shall still renew,And pledge to love and beauty.
At Fidler's Green, where seamen true,
When here they've done their duty,
The bowl of grog shall still renew,
And pledge to love and beauty.
"Well reeled off, Billy," cried Jemmy Ducks, finishing with a flourish on his fiddle, and a refrain of the air. I don't think we shall meethimand his dog at Fidler's Green--heh!"
"No," replied Short, taking his pipe from his lip.
"No, no, Jemmy, a seaman true means one true in heart as well as in knowledge; but, like a blind fiddler, he'll be led by his dog somewhere else."
"From vere de dog did come from," observed Jansen.
The band now struck up again, and played a waltz--a dance new to our country, but older than the heptarchy. Jansen, with his pipe in his mouth, took one of the women by the waist, and steered round the room about as leisurely as a capstern heaving up. Dick Short also took another, made four turns, reeled up against a Dutchman who was doing it withsang froid, and then suddenly left his partner and dropped into his chair.
"I say, Jemmy," said Obadiah Coble, "why don't you give a girl a twist round?"
"Because I can't, Oby; my compasses arn't long enough to describe a circle. You and I are better here, old boy. I, because I've very little legs, and you, because you havn't a leg to stand upon."
"Very true--not quite so young as I was forty years ago. Howsomever I mean this to be my last vessel. I shall bear up for one of the London dock-yards as a rigger."
"Yes, that'll do; only keep clear of the girt-lines, you're too stiff for that."
"No, that would not exactly tell; I shall pick my own work, and that's where I can bring my tarry trousers to an anchor--mousing the mainstay, or puddening the anchor, with the best of any. Dick, lend us a bit of 'baccy."
Short pulled out his box without saying a word. Coble took a quid, and Short thrust the box again into his pocket.
In the meantime the waltz continued, and being a favourite dance, there were about fifty couples going round and round the room. Such was the variety in the dress, country, language, and appearance of the parties collected, that you might have imagined it a masquerade. It was, however, getting late, and Frau Vandersloosh had received the intimation of the people of the police who superintend these resorts, that it was the time for shutting up; so that, although the widow was sorry on her own account to disperse so merry and so thirsty a party as they were now becoming, so soon as the waltz was ended the musicians packed up their instruments and departed.
This was a signal for many, but by no means for all, to depart; for music being over, and the house doors closed, a few who remained, provided they made no disturbance, were not interfered with by the police. Among those who stayed were the party from theYungfrau, one or two American, and some Prussian sailors. Having closed up together,
"Come," cried Jemmy, "now that we are quiet again, let's have another song; and who is it to be--Dick Short?"
"Short, my boy, come, you must sing."
"No," replied Short.
"Yes, yes--one verse," said Spurey.
"He never sings more," replied Jemmy Ducks, "so he must give us that. Come, Short."
"Yes," replied Short, taking the pipe out of his mouth, and wetting his lips with the grog.
Shortstay apeak was the anchor,We had but ashortminute more,Inshort, I no longer could banker,Forshortwas the cash in my store.I gave oneshortlook,As Poll heaved ashortsighOneshorthug I took,Shortthe matter cut I,And off I went to sea.
Shortstay apeak was the anchor,We had but ashortminute more,Inshort, I no longer could banker,Forshortwas the cash in my store.I gave oneshortlook,As Poll heaved ashortsighOneshorthug I took,Shortthe matter cut I,And off I went to sea.
Shortstay apeak was the anchor,
We had but ashortminute more,
Inshort, I no longer could banker,
Forshortwas the cash in my store.
I gave oneshortlook,
As Poll heaved ashortsigh
Oneshorthug I took,
Shortthe matter cut I,
And off I went to sea.
"Go on, Dick."
"No," replied Short, resuming his pipe.
"Well, then, chorus, my boys."
Very good song, and very well sung,Jolly companions every one;We all are here for mirth and glee,We all are here for jollity.Very good song, and very well sung,Jolly companions every one;Put your hats on, and keep your heads warm,A little more liquor will do us no harm.
Very good song, and very well sung,Jolly companions every one;We all are here for mirth and glee,We all are here for jollity.Very good song, and very well sung,Jolly companions every one;Put your hats on, and keep your heads warm,A little more liquor will do us no harm.
Very good song, and very well sung,
Jolly companions every one;
We all are here for mirth and glee,
We all are here for jollity.
Very good song, and very well sung,
Jolly companions every one;
Put your hats on, and keep your heads warm,
A little more liquor will do us no harm.
"Now then, Jemmy Ducks, it's round to you again. Strike up, fiddle and all."
"Well, here goes," said Jemmy Ducks.
The captain stood on the carronade--first lieutenant, says he,Send all my merry men aft here, for they must list to me:I havn't the gift of the gab, my sons--because I'm bred to the sea,That ship there is a Frenchman, who means to fight with we.Odds blood, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea,I've fought 'gainst every odds--but I've gained the victory.That ship there is a Frenchman, and if we don't takeshe,'Tis a thousand bullets to one, that she will captureme;I havn't the gift of the gab, my boys, so each man to his gun,If she's not mine in half an hour, I'll flog each mother's son.Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea,I've fought 'gainst every odds--and I've gained the victory.We fought for twenty minutes, when the Frenchman had enough,I little thought, said he, that your men were of such stuff;The captain took the Frenchman's sword, a low bow made to he,I havn't the gift of the gab, Mounsieur, but polite I wish to be.Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea,I've fought 'gainst every odds--and I've gained the victory.Our captain sent for all of us; my merry men, said he,I havn't the gift of the gab, my lads, but yet I thankful be;You've done your duty handsomely, each man stood to his gun,If you hadn't, you villains, as sure as day, I'd have flogged each mother's son.Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, as long as I'm at sea,I'll fight 'gainst every odds--and I'll gain the victory.Chorus--Very good song, and very well sung,Jolly companions every one;We all are here for mirth and glee,We all are here for jollity.Very good song, and very well sung,Jolly companions every one;Put your hats on to keep your heads warm,A little more grog will do us no harm.
The captain stood on the carronade--first lieutenant, says he,Send all my merry men aft here, for they must list to me:I havn't the gift of the gab, my sons--because I'm bred to the sea,That ship there is a Frenchman, who means to fight with we.Odds blood, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea,I've fought 'gainst every odds--but I've gained the victory.
The captain stood on the carronade--first lieutenant, says he,
Send all my merry men aft here, for they must list to me:
I havn't the gift of the gab, my sons--because I'm bred to the sea,
That ship there is a Frenchman, who means to fight with we.
Odds blood, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea,
I've fought 'gainst every odds--but I've gained the victory.
That ship there is a Frenchman, and if we don't takeshe,'Tis a thousand bullets to one, that she will captureme;I havn't the gift of the gab, my boys, so each man to his gun,If she's not mine in half an hour, I'll flog each mother's son.Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea,I've fought 'gainst every odds--and I've gained the victory.
That ship there is a Frenchman, and if we don't takeshe,
'Tis a thousand bullets to one, that she will captureme;
I havn't the gift of the gab, my boys, so each man to his gun,
If she's not mine in half an hour, I'll flog each mother's son.
Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea,
I've fought 'gainst every odds--and I've gained the victory.
We fought for twenty minutes, when the Frenchman had enough,I little thought, said he, that your men were of such stuff;The captain took the Frenchman's sword, a low bow made to he,I havn't the gift of the gab, Mounsieur, but polite I wish to be.Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea,I've fought 'gainst every odds--and I've gained the victory.
We fought for twenty minutes, when the Frenchman had enough,
I little thought, said he, that your men were of such stuff;
The captain took the Frenchman's sword, a low bow made to he,
I havn't the gift of the gab, Mounsieur, but polite I wish to be.
Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea,
I've fought 'gainst every odds--and I've gained the victory.
Our captain sent for all of us; my merry men, said he,I havn't the gift of the gab, my lads, but yet I thankful be;You've done your duty handsomely, each man stood to his gun,If you hadn't, you villains, as sure as day, I'd have flogged each mother's son.Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, as long as I'm at sea,I'll fight 'gainst every odds--and I'll gain the victory.
Our captain sent for all of us; my merry men, said he,
I havn't the gift of the gab, my lads, but yet I thankful be;
You've done your duty handsomely, each man stood to his gun,
If you hadn't, you villains, as sure as day, I'd have flogged each mother's son.
Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, as long as I'm at sea,
I'll fight 'gainst every odds--and I'll gain the victory.
Chorus--Very good song, and very well sung,Jolly companions every one;We all are here for mirth and glee,We all are here for jollity.Very good song, and very well sung,Jolly companions every one;Put your hats on to keep your heads warm,A little more grog will do us no harm.
Chorus--Very good song, and very well sung,
Jolly companions every one;
We all are here for mirth and glee,
We all are here for jollity.
Very good song, and very well sung,
Jolly companions every one;
Put your hats on to keep your heads warm,
A little more grog will do us no harm.
"Now, Coble, we must have yours," said Jemmy Ducks.
"Mine! well, if you please: but half my notes are stranded. You'll think that Snarleyyow is baying the moon: howsomever, take it as it is."
Oh, what's the use of piping, boys, I never yet could larn,The good of water from the eyes I never could disarn;Salt water we have sure enough without our pumping more,So let us leave all crying to the girls we leave on shore.They may pump,As in we jumpTo the boat, and say, "Good-bye;"But as for men,Why, I say again,That crying's all my eye.I went to school when quite a boy, and never larnt to read,The master tried both head and tail--at last it was agreedNo larning he could force in me, so they sent me off to sea,My mother wept and wrung her hands, and cried most bitterly.So she did pump,As I did jumpIn the boat, and said, "Good-bye;"But as for me,Who was sent to sea,To cry was all my eye.I courted Poll, a buxom lass; when I returned A B,I bought her ear-rings, hat, and shawl, a sixpence did break we;At last 'twas time to be on board, so, Poll, says I, farewell;She roared and said, that leaving her was like a funeral knell.So she did pump,As I did jumpIn the boat, and said, "Good-bye;"But as for meWith the rate A B,To cry was all my eye.I soon went back, I shoved on shore, and Polly I did meet,For she was watching on the shore, her sweetheart for to greet,She threw her arms around me then, and much to my surprise,She vowed she was so happy that she pumped with both her eyes.So she did pump,As I did jumpTo kiss her lovingly,But, I say again,That as for men,Crying is all my eye.Then push the can around, my boys, and let us merry be;We'll rig the pumps if a leak we spring, and work most merrily:Salt water we have sure enough, we'll add not to its store,But drink, and laugh, and sing and chat, and call again for more.The girls may pump,As in we jumpTo the boat, and say, "Good-bye;"But as for we,Who sailors be,Crying is all my eye.
Oh, what's the use of piping, boys, I never yet could larn,The good of water from the eyes I never could disarn;Salt water we have sure enough without our pumping more,So let us leave all crying to the girls we leave on shore.
Oh, what's the use of piping, boys, I never yet could larn,
The good of water from the eyes I never could disarn;
Salt water we have sure enough without our pumping more,
So let us leave all crying to the girls we leave on shore.
They may pump,As in we jumpTo the boat, and say, "Good-bye;"But as for men,Why, I say again,That crying's all my eye.
They may pump,
As in we jump
To the boat, and say, "Good-bye;"
But as for men,
Why, I say again,
That crying's all my eye.
I went to school when quite a boy, and never larnt to read,The master tried both head and tail--at last it was agreedNo larning he could force in me, so they sent me off to sea,My mother wept and wrung her hands, and cried most bitterly.
I went to school when quite a boy, and never larnt to read,
The master tried both head and tail--at last it was agreed
No larning he could force in me, so they sent me off to sea,
My mother wept and wrung her hands, and cried most bitterly.
So she did pump,As I did jumpIn the boat, and said, "Good-bye;"But as for me,Who was sent to sea,To cry was all my eye.
So she did pump,
As I did jump
In the boat, and said, "Good-bye;"
But as for me,
Who was sent to sea,
To cry was all my eye.
I courted Poll, a buxom lass; when I returned A B,I bought her ear-rings, hat, and shawl, a sixpence did break we;At last 'twas time to be on board, so, Poll, says I, farewell;She roared and said, that leaving her was like a funeral knell.
I courted Poll, a buxom lass; when I returned A B,
I bought her ear-rings, hat, and shawl, a sixpence did break we;
At last 'twas time to be on board, so, Poll, says I, farewell;
She roared and said, that leaving her was like a funeral knell.
So she did pump,As I did jumpIn the boat, and said, "Good-bye;"But as for meWith the rate A B,To cry was all my eye.
So she did pump,
As I did jump
In the boat, and said, "Good-bye;"
But as for me
With the rate A B,
To cry was all my eye.
I soon went back, I shoved on shore, and Polly I did meet,For she was watching on the shore, her sweetheart for to greet,She threw her arms around me then, and much to my surprise,She vowed she was so happy that she pumped with both her eyes.
I soon went back, I shoved on shore, and Polly I did meet,
For she was watching on the shore, her sweetheart for to greet,
She threw her arms around me then, and much to my surprise,
She vowed she was so happy that she pumped with both her eyes.
So she did pump,As I did jumpTo kiss her lovingly,But, I say again,That as for men,Crying is all my eye.
So she did pump,
As I did jump
To kiss her lovingly,
But, I say again,
That as for men,
Crying is all my eye.
Then push the can around, my boys, and let us merry be;We'll rig the pumps if a leak we spring, and work most merrily:Salt water we have sure enough, we'll add not to its store,But drink, and laugh, and sing and chat, and call again for more.
Then push the can around, my boys, and let us merry be;
We'll rig the pumps if a leak we spring, and work most merrily:
Salt water we have sure enough, we'll add not to its store,
But drink, and laugh, and sing and chat, and call again for more.
The girls may pump,As in we jumpTo the boat, and say, "Good-bye;"But as for we,Who sailors be,Crying is all my eye.
The girls may pump,
As in we jump
To the boat, and say, "Good-bye;"
But as for we,
Who sailors be,
Crying is all my eye.
"Bravo, Obadiah! now one more song, and then we'll aboard. It won't do to bowse your jib up too tight here," said Jemmy; "for it's rather dangerous navigation among all these canals--no room for yawing."
"No," replied Dick Short.
"Then," said Jemmy, jumping off the table with his fiddle in his hand, "let's have the roarer by way of a finish--what d'ye say, my hearties?"
Up they all rose, and gathered together in the centre of the room, save Jemmy Ducks, who, flourishing with his fiddle, commenced.
Jack's alive and a merry dog,When he gets on shore,He calls for his glass of grog,He drinks, and he calls for more.So drink, and call for what you please,Until you've had your whack, boys;We think no more of raging seas,Now that we've come back, boys.
Jack's alive and a merry dog,When he gets on shore,He calls for his glass of grog,He drinks, and he calls for more.So drink, and call for what you please,Until you've had your whack, boys;We think no more of raging seas,Now that we've come back, boys.
Jack's alive and a merry dog,
When he gets on shore,
He calls for his glass of grog,
He drinks, and he calls for more.
So drink, and call for what you please,
Until you've had your whack, boys;
We think no more of raging seas,
Now that we've come back, boys.
"Chorus, now--"
With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;Huzza, my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.
With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;Huzza, my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.
With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,
The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;
Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;
Huzza, my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.
All the seamen joined in the chorus, which they accompanied both with their hands and feet, snapping their fingers atwhipandsnip, and smacking their hands atsmackandcrack, while they danced round in the most grotesque manner, to Jemmy's fiddle and voice; the chorus ended in loud laughter, for they had now proved the words of the song to be true, and were all alive and merry. According to the rules of the song, Jemmy now called out for the next singer, Coble.
Jack's alive and merry, my boys,When he's on blue water,In the battle's rage and noise,And the main-deck slaughter.So drink and call for what you please,Until you've had your whack, boys;We'll think no more or angry seas,Until that we go back, boys.Chorus.--With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;Huzza my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.
Jack's alive and merry, my boys,When he's on blue water,In the battle's rage and noise,And the main-deck slaughter.So drink and call for what you please,Until you've had your whack, boys;We'll think no more or angry seas,Until that we go back, boys.
Jack's alive and merry, my boys,
When he's on blue water,
In the battle's rage and noise,
And the main-deck slaughter.
So drink and call for what you please,
Until you've had your whack, boys;
We'll think no more or angry seas,
Until that we go back, boys.
Chorus.--With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;Huzza my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.
Chorus.--With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,
The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;
Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;
Huzza my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.
Jansen and Jemmy Ducks, after the dancing chorus had finished,
Yack alive and merry, my boys,Ven he get himfrau,And he vid her ringlet toys,As he take her paw.So drink, and call for vat you please.Until you hab your vack, boys;Ve'll think no more of angry seas,Till ve standen back, boys.
Yack alive and merry, my boys,Ven he get himfrau,And he vid her ringlet toys,As he take her paw.So drink, and call for vat you please.Until you hab your vack, boys;Ve'll think no more of angry seas,Till ve standen back, boys.
Yack alive and merry, my boys,
Ven he get himfrau,
And he vid her ringlet toys,
As he take her paw.
So drink, and call for vat you please.
Until you hab your vack, boys;
Ve'll think no more of angry seas,
Till ve standen back, boys.
Chorus and laughter
With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;Huzza, my lads, we'll keep the pot boiling.
With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;Huzza, my lads, we'll keep the pot boiling.
With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,
The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;
Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;
Huzza, my lads, we'll keep the pot boiling.
Bill Spurey--
Jack's alive and merry, boys,When he's got the shiners;Heh! for rattle, fun, and noise,Hang all grumbling whiners.Then drink, and call for what you please,Until you've had your whack, boys;We think no more of raging seas,Now that we've come back, boys.Chorus.--With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;Huzza, my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.
Jack's alive and merry, boys,When he's got the shiners;Heh! for rattle, fun, and noise,Hang all grumbling whiners.Then drink, and call for what you please,Until you've had your whack, boys;We think no more of raging seas,Now that we've come back, boys.
Jack's alive and merry, boys,
When he's got the shiners;
Heh! for rattle, fun, and noise,
Hang all grumbling whiners.
Then drink, and call for what you please,
Until you've had your whack, boys;
We think no more of raging seas,
Now that we've come back, boys.
Chorus.--With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;Huzza, my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.
Chorus.--With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,
The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;
Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;
Huzza, my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.
"Dick Short must sing."
"Yes," replied Dick.
Jack's alive and full of fun,When his hulk is crazy,As he basks in Greenwich sun,Jolly still though lazy.So drink, and call for what you please,Until you've had your whack, boys;We'll think no more of raging seas,Now that we've come back, boys.Chorus.--With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;Huzza, my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.
Jack's alive and full of fun,When his hulk is crazy,As he basks in Greenwich sun,Jolly still though lazy.So drink, and call for what you please,Until you've had your whack, boys;We'll think no more of raging seas,Now that we've come back, boys.
Jack's alive and full of fun,
When his hulk is crazy,
As he basks in Greenwich sun,
Jolly still though lazy.
So drink, and call for what you please,
Until you've had your whack, boys;
We'll think no more of raging seas,
Now that we've come back, boys.
Chorus.--With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;Huzza, my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.
Chorus.--With awhip, snip, high cum diddledy,
The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling;
Smack, crack--this is our jubilee;
Huzza, my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.
As this was the last chorus, it was repeated three or four times, and with hallooing, screaming, and dancing in mad gesticulation.
"Hurrah, my lads," cried Jemmy, "three cheers and a bravo."
It was high time that they went on board; so thought Frau Vandersloosh, who trembled for her chandeliers; so thought Babette, who had begun to yawn before the last song, and who had tired herself more with laughing at it; so thought they all, and they sallied forth out of the Lust Haus, with Jemmy Ducks having the advance, and fiddling to them the whole way down to the boat. Fortunately, not one of them fell into the canal, and in ten minutes they were all on board; they were not, however, permitted to turn into their hammocks without the important information being imparted to them, that Snarleyyow had disappeared.
It is a dark morning; the wind is fresh from the northwest; flakes of snow are seen wafting here and there by the wind, the avant-couriers of a heavy fall; the whole sky is of one murky grey, and the sun is hidden behind a dense bank. The deck of the cutter is wet and slippery, and Dick Short has the morning watch. He is wrapt up in a Flushing pea-jacket, with thick mittens on his hands; he looks about him, and now and then a fragment of snow whirls into his eye; he winks it out, it melts and runs like a tear down his cheek. If it were not that it is contrary to man-of-war custom he would warm himself with thedouble-shuffle, but such a step would be unheard of on the quarter-deck of even the cutterYungfrau.
The tarpaulin over the hatchway is pushed on one side, and the space between the coamings is filled with the bull head and broad shoulders of Corporal Van Spitter, who, at last, gains the deck; he looks round him and apparently is not much pleased with the weather. Before he proceeds to business, he examines the sleeves and front of his jacket, and having brushed off with the palm of his hand a variety of blanket-hairs, adhering to the cloth, he is satisfied, and now turns to the right and to the left, and forward and aft--in less than a minute he goes right round the compass. What can Corporal Van Spitter want at so early an hour? He has not come up on deck for nothing, and yet he appears to be strangely puzzled: the fact is, by the arrangements of last night, it was decided, that this morning, if Snarleyyow did not make his appearance in the boat sent on shore for fresh beef for the ship's company, the unfortunate Smallbones was to bekeel-hauled.
What a delightful morning for a keel-hauling!
This ingenious process, which, however, like many other good old customs, has fallen into disuse, must be explained to the non-nautical reader. It is nothing more nor less than sending a poor navigator on a voyage of discovery under the bottom of the vessel, lowering him[2]down over the bows, and with ropes detaining him exactly in his position under the kelson, while he is drawn aft by a hauling line until he makes his appearance at the rudder-chains, generally speaking quite out of breath, not at the rapidity of his motion, but because, when so long under the water, he has expended all the breath in his body, and is induced to take in salt wateren lieu.There is much merit in this invention; people are very apt to be content with walking the deck of a man-of-war, and complain of it as a hardship, but when once they have learnt, by experience, the difference between being comfortable above board, and the number of deprivations which they have to submit to when under board and overboard at the same time, they find that there are worse situations than being on the deck of a vessel--we say privations when under board, for they really are very important:--you are deprived of the air to breathe, which is not borne with patience even by a philosopher, and you are obliged to drink salt water instead of fresh. In the days of keel-hauling, the bottoms of vessels were not coppered, and in consequence were well studded with a species of shell-fish which attached themselves, called barnacles, and as these shells were all open-mouthed and with sharp cutting points, those who underwent this punishment (for they were made by the ropes at each side, fastened to their arms, to hug the kelson of the vessel) were cut and scored all over their body, as if with so many lancets, generally coming up bleeding in every part, and with their faces, especially their noses, as if they had been gnawed by the rats; but this was considered rather advantageous than otherwise, as the loss of blood restored the patient if he was not quite drowned, and the consequence was, that one out of three, it is said, have been known to recover after their submarine excursion. The Dutch have the credit, and we will not attempt to take from them their undoubted right, of having invented this very agreeable description of punishment. They are considered a heavy, phlegmatic sort of people, but on every point in which the art of ingeniously tormenting is in request, it must be admitted that they have taken the lead of much more vivacious and otherwise more inventive nations.
[2]The author has here explained keel-hauling as practised in those times in smallfore and aftvessels. In large and square-rigged vessels, the man was hauled up to one main-yard arm, and dropped into the sea, and hauled under the bottom of the vessel to the other; but this in small fore and aft vessels was not so easily effected, nor was it considered sufficient punishment.
And now the reader will perceive why Corporal Van Spitter was in a dilemma. With all the good-will in the world, with every anxiety to fulfil his duty, and to obey his superior officer, he was not a seaman, and did not know how to commence operations. He knew nothing about foddering a vessel's bottom, much less how to fodder it with the carcass of one of his fellow-creatures. The corporal, as we said before, turned round and round the compass to ascertain if he could compass his wishes; at last, he commenced by dragging one-rope's end from one side and another from the other; those would do for the side ropes, but he wanted a long one from forward and another from aft, and how to get the one from aft under the cutter's bottom was a puzzle; and then there was the mast and the rigging in his way;--the corporal reflected--the more he considered the matter, the more his brain became confused; he was at a nonplus, and he gave it up in despair: he stood still, took out a blue cotton handkerchief from the breast of his jacket and wiped his forehead, for the intensity of thought had made him perspire--anything like reflection was very hard work for Corporal Van Spitter.
"Tousand tyfels!" at last exclaimed the corporal, and he paused and knocked his big head with his fist.
"Hundred thousand tyfels!" repeated the corporal after five minutes' more thought.
"Twenty hundred tousand tyfels!" muttered the corporal, once more knocking his head: but he knocked in vain; like an empty house, there was no one within to answer the appeal. The corporal could no more: so he returned his pocket-handkerchief to the breast of his jacket, and a heavy sigh escaped from his own breast. All the devils in hell were mentally conjured and summoned to his aid, but they were, it is to be presumed, better employed, for although the work in hand was diabolical enough, still, Smallbones was such a poor devil, that probably he might have been considered as remotely allied to the fraternity.
It may be inquired why, as this wason service, Corporal Van Spitter did not apply for the assistance of the seamen belonging to the vessel, particularly to the officer in charge of the deck; but the fact was, that he was unwilling to do this, knowing that his application would be in vain, for he was aware that the whole crew sided with Smallbones; it was only as a last resource that he intended to do this, and being now at hiswit'send, he walked up to Dick Short, who had been watching the corporal's motions in silence, and accosted him.
"If you please, Mynheer Short, Mynheer Vanslyperken give orders dat de boy be keel-hauled dis morning:--I want haben de rope and de way."
Short looked at the corporal, and made no reply.
"Mynheer Short, I haben tell de order of Mynheer Vanslyperken."
Dick Short made no reply, but leaning over the hatchway, called out, "Jemmy."
"Ay, ay," replied Jemmy Ducks, turning out of his hammock and dropping on the lower deck.
Corporal Van Spitter, who imagined that Mr Short was about to comply with his request after his own Harpocratic fashion, remained quietly on the deck until Jemmy Ducks made his appearance.
"Hands," quoth Short.
Jemmy piped the hands up.
"Boat," quoth Short, turning his head to the small boat hoisted up astern.
Now as all this was apparently preparatory to the work required, the corporal was satisfied. The men soon came up with their hammocks on their shoulders, which they put into the nettings, and then Jemmy proceeded to lower down the boat. As soon as it was down and hauled up alongside, Short turned round to Coble, and waving his hand towards the shore, said,
"Beef."
Coble, who perfectly understood him, put a new quid into his cheek, went down the side, and pulled on shore to bring off the fresh beef and vegetables for the ship's company; after which Dick Short walked the deck and gave no further orders.
Corporal Van Spitter perceiving this, went up to him again.
"Mynheer Short, you please get ready."
"No!" thundered Short, turning away.
"Got for dam, dat is mutiny," muttered the corporal, who immediately backed stern foremost down the hatchway, to report to his commandant the state of affairs on deck. Mr Vanslyperken had already risen; he had slept but one hour during the whole night, and that one hour was so occupied with wild and fearful dreams that he awoke from his sleep unrefreshed. He had dreamed that he was making every attempt to drown Smallbones, but without effect, for, so soon as the lad was dead he came to life again; he thought that Smallbones' soul was incorporated in a small animal something like a mouse, and that he had to dislodge it from its tenement of clay; but as soon as he drove it from one part of the body it would force its way back again into another; if he forced it out by the mouth after incredible exertions, which made him perspire at every pore, it would run back again into the ear; if forced from thence, through the nostril, then in at the toe, or any other part; in short, he laboured apparently in his dream for years, but without success. And then the "change came o'er the spirit of his dream;" but still there was analogy, for he was now trying to press his suit, which was now a liquid in a vial, into the widow Vandersloosh, but in vain. He administered it again and again, but it acted as an emetic, and she could not stomach it, and then he found himself rejected by all--the widow kicked him, Smallbones stamped upon him, even Snarleyyow flew at him and bit him; at last, he fell with an enormous paving-stone round his neck, descending into a horrible abyss head foremost, and, as he increased his velocity, he awoke trembling and confused, and could sleep no more. This dream was not one to put Mr Vanslyperken into good humour, and two severe cuts on his cheek with the razor as he attempted to shave, for his hand still trembled, had added to his discontent, when it was raised to its climax by the entrance of Corporal Van Spitter, who made his report of the mutinous conduct of the first officer. Never was Mr Vanslyperken in such a tumult of rage; he pulled off some beaver from his hat to staunch the blood, and wiping off the remainder of the lather, for he put aside the operation of shaving till his hand was more steady, he threw on his coat and followed the corporal on deck, looked round with a savage air, spied out the diminutive form of Jemmy Ducks, and desired him to pipe "all hands to keel-haul."
Whereupon Jemmy put his pipe to his mouth, and after a long flourish, bawled out what appeared to Mr Vanslyperken to be--all hands tobe heel-hauled;but Jemmy slurred over quickly the little change made in the order, and, although the men tittered, Mr Vanslyperken thought it better to say nothing. But there is an old saying, that you may bring a horse to the pond, but you cannot make him drink. Mr Vanslyperken had given the order, but no one attempted to commence the arrangements. The only person who showed any activity was Smallbones himself, who, not aware that he was to be punished, and hearing all hands piped for something or another, came shambling, all legs and wings, up the hatchway, and looked around to ascertain what was to be done. He was met by the bulky form of Corporal Van Spitter, who, thinking that Smallbones' making his appearance in such haste was with the intention of jumping overboard to avoid his punishment, immediately seized him by the collar with the left hand, turned round on a pivot towards Mr Vanslyperken, and raising his right hand to his foraging cap, reported, "The prisoner on deck, Mynheer Vanslyperken." This roused the lieutenant to action, for he had been walking the deck for a half minute in deep thought.
"Is all ready there, forward?" cried Mr Vanslyperken.
No one replied.
"I say, boatswain, is all ready?"
"No, sir," replied Jemmy; "nobody knows how to set about it. I don't, anyhow--I never seed anything of the like since I've been in the service--the whole of the ship's company say the same." But even the flakes of snow, which now fell thick, and whitened the blue jacket of Mr Vanslyperken, could not assuage his wrath--he perceived that the men were refractory, so he summoned the six marines--who were completely under the control of their corporal.
Poor Smallbones had, in the meantime, discovered what was going on, and thought that he might as well urge something in his own defence.
"If you please, what are you going for to do with me?" said the lad, with a terrified look.
"Lead him forward," said Mr Vanslyperken; "follow me, marines;" and the whole party, headed by the lieutenant, went before the mast.
"Strip him," cried Mr Vanslyperken.
"Strip me, with the snow flying like this! An't I cold enough already?"
"You'll be colder when you're under the bottom of the cutter," replied his master.
"O Lord! then it is keel-hauling a'ter all; why what have I done?" cried Smallbones, as the marines divested him of his shirt, and exposed his emaciated body to the pitiless storm.
"Where's Snarleyyow, sir?--confess."
"Snarleyyow--how should I know, sir? it's very hard, because your dog is not to be found, that I'm to be dragged under the bottom of a vessel."
"I'll teach you to throw paving-stones in the canal."
"Paving-stones, sir!" and Smallbones' guilty conscience flew in his face. "Well, sir, do as you please, I'm sure I don't care; if I am to be killed, be quick about it--I'm sure I sha'n't come up alive."
Here Mr Vanslyperken remembered his dream, and the difficulty which he had in driving Smallbones' soul out of his body, and he was fearful that even keel-hauling would not settle Smallbones.
By the directions of Mr Vanslyperken, the hauling ropes and other tackle were collected by the marines, for the seamen stood by, and appeared resolved, to a man, to do nothing, and, in about half an hour, all was ready. Four marines manned the hauling line, one was placed at each side-rope fastened to the lad's arms, and the corporal, as soon as he had lifted the body of Smallbones over the larboard gunnel, had directions to attend the bow-line, and not allow him to be dragged on too fast: a better selection for this purpose could not have been made than Corporal Van Spitter. Smallbones had been laid without his clothes on the deck, now covered with snow, during the time that the lines were making fast to him; he remained silent, and as usual, when punished, with his eyes shut, and as Vanslyperken watched him with feelings of hatred, he perceived an occasional smile to cross the lad's haggard features. He knows where the dog is, thought Vanslyperken, and his desire to know what had become of Snarleyyow overcame his vengeance--he addressed the shivering Smallbones.
"Now, sir, if you wish to escape the punishment, tell me what has become of the dog, for I perceive that you know."
Smallbones grinned as his teeth chattered--he would have undergone a dozen keel-haulings rather than have satisfied Vanslyperken.
"I give you ten minutes to think of it," continued the lieutenant; "hold all fast at present."
The snow storm now came on so thick that it was difficult to distinguish the length of the vessel. Smallbones' naked limbs were gradually covered, and, before the ten minutes were expired, he was wrapped up in snow as in a garment--he shook his head occasionally to clear his face, but remained silent.
"Now, sir," cried Vanslyperken, "will you tell me, or overboard you go at once? Will you tell me?"
"No," replied Smallbones.
"Do you know, you scoundrel?"
"Yes," replied Smallbones, whose indignation was roused.
"And you won't tell?"
"No," shrieked the lad--"no, never, never, never!"
"Corporal Van Spitter, over with him," cried Vanslyperken in a rage, when a sudden stir was heard amongst the men aft, and as the corporal raised up the light frame of the culprit, to carry it to the gunnel, to the astonishment of Vanslyperken, of the corporal, and of Smallbones, Snarleyyow appeared on the forecastle, and made a rush at Smallbones, as he lay in the corporal's arms, snapped at his leg, and then set up his usual deep baying, "bow, bow, bow!"
The re-appearance of the dog created no small sensation--Vanslyperken felt that he had now no reason for keel-hauling Smallbones, which annoyed him as much as the sight of the dog gave him pleasure. The corporal, who had dropped Smallbones on the snow, was also disappointed. As for Smallbones, at the baying of the dog, he started up on his knees, and looked at it as if it were an apparition, with every demonstration of terror in his countenance; his eyes glared upon the animal with horror and astonishment, and he fell down in a swoon. The whole of the ship's company were taken aback--they looked at one another and shook their heads--one only remark was made by Jansen, who muttered, "De tog is no tog a'ter all."
Mr Vanslyperken ordered Smallbones to be taken below, and then walked aft; perceiving Obadiah Coble, he inquired whence the dog had come, and was answered that he had come off in the boat which he had taken on shore for fresh beef and vegetables. Mr Vanslyperken made no reply, but, with Snarleyyow at his heels, went down into the cabin.