The gentleman, wholly insensible to the danger which threatened them, sat between his wife and daughter, and was speaking words of cheering import, relative to their being rescued from the enemy, and the prospect of soon enjoying the comforts of their native land. Everything was perfectly tranquil in the vessel, which was lightly dancing over the smooth waters and breaking the sun-light upon its surface. He also remarked upon the quietude of their fellow-passengers, and even ventured a joke upon the apparently solid countenance of the Dutchwoman, when suddenly—in an instant, as if madness ruled the moment, they saw her spring to her feet, and, grasping the pump-brake in her hand, she flourished it right and left, laying a fisherman prostrate at every blow. Sambo also grappled an opponent, whom he lifted over the gunwale, hurled into the sea and then attacked another, whilst Frank rushed aft to the steersman, shouting to the gentleman, "We are Englishmen, it is a French port under our lee, and we are betrayed; for the sake of those you love—hurrah!—do not remain inactive."
Nothing could exceed the amazement of the gentleman at this wholly unexpected occurrence, and his astonishment was still more increased when the supposed Dutchwoman, came bounding aft, flourishing her weapon, and shouting in the nautical language of his native land, as he hurled the steersman from his place,—"Ware hause, you lubber—what's the odds, so as you're happy?" and taking the tiller, he put the vessel right before the wind. "Bear a hand, Master Frank," continued Ben, "and keep her as she goes: and I'm saying, ould gentleman, jist you show yourself smart, and let 'em know as you've a little English blood in your veins. Hurrah!—what's the odds?"—and again he rushed forward to assist Sambo, who was stoutly contesting it with his foes.
British prowess triumphed—the struggle, though severe, did not last long—the Blankenbergers were conquered; the punt was cast adrift for those who were swimming—the remainder were bound hand and foot; the sails were trimmed to stand off from the land; and great indeed was the gratitude of the husband and the father, and still more delightful were the acknowledgments of the ladies, when they ascertained the great service that had been rendered to them. Mutual explanations ensued—hearty congratulations were given; and in the afternoon they fell in with an English brig which received them all on board. The fishermen, after a sound rope's-ending for their treachery, had their vessel restored; and the rescued party were the next morning gratified by entering the river Thames.
THE MUFFIN-MAN
A little man who muffins sold,
When I was little too,
Carried a face of giant mould,