“And I’m cock sure of it,” said old Tom, rolling himself along the deck to the cabin hatch “that I’ve as much—as I can stagger—under, at all events—so I’ll sing myself to sleep—’cause why—I’m happy. Jacob—mind you keep all the watches to-night—and Tom may keep the rest.” Old Tom then sat up, leaning his back against the cabin hatch, and commenced one of those doleful ditties which are sometimes heard on the forecastle of a man-of-war; he had one or two of the songs that he always reserved for such occasions. While Tom and I dragged the Dominie to bed, old Tom drawled out his ditty—
“Oh! we sailed to Virgi-ni-a, and thence to Fy-al,
Where we water’d our shipping, and so then weigh-ed all,
Full in view, on the seas—boys—seven sail we did es-py,
O! we man-ned our capstern, and weighed spee-di-ly.
“That’s right, my boys, haul and hold—stow the old Dictionary away—for he can’t command the parts of speech.
“The very next morning—the engagement proved—hot,
And brave Admiral Benbow received a chain-shot.
O when he was wounded to his merry men—he—did—say,
Take me up in your arms, boys, and car-ry me a-way.
“Now, boys, come and help me—Tom—none of your foolery—for your poor old father is—drunk—.”
We assisted old Tom into the other “bed-place” in the cabin. “Thanky, lads—one little bit more, and then I’m done—as the auctioneer says—going—going—
“O the guns they did rattle, and the bul-lets—did—fly,
When brave Benbow—for help loud—did cry,
Carry me down to the cock-pit—there is ease for my smarts,
If my merry men should see me—’twill sure—break—their—hearts.
“Going,—old swan-hopper—as I am—going—gone.”
Tom and I were left on deck.
“Now, Jacob, if you have a mind to turn in. I’m not sleepy—you shall keep the morning watch.”