"And now we'll have one from the other side of the house," said Moggy, as soon as the plaudits were over.
"Come then, Anthony, you shall speak for us, and prove that we can sing a stave as well as honester men."
"With all my heart, William;--here's my very best."
The smuggler then sang as follows:
Fill, lads, fill;
Fill, lads, fill.
Here we have a cure
For every ill.
If fortune's unkind
As the north-east wind,