"We had the coast-line of Africy a blue streak off to the starboard, and we were er spankin' along with every blessed stitch of canvas drawin' when we sighted one er them pirate slavers er bearin' down on us. Capen took a squint through the glass and whistled. 'We'll give him er run fer it,' said he.
"Waal, that chap kep' after us all day, and we tried to slip his lights during the night, but 'twarn't no use. He made up his mind to foller, and he did, day after day. At last we got well down to the cape when er blow came up, and, great guns! it wuz er blow fer certain. It caught us, and drove us plumb into the antarctic circle, with that pirate right after us. That made the Captain mad, and as we had er cargo of molasses on board, he gave the order to uncover the rear hatch and hoist the barrels on deck.
"Blow me if he didn't broach those barrels thet night, and empty them over the starn. The nest day there wuz that pirate stuck fast in the centre of the molasses, where he had sailed. It had froze during the night, and he was anchored in it just the same as if he wuz nipped in an ice-floe. Then we squared around and headed for the cape. As we passed him the Captain shouts out:
"'Ahoy, there! Cold weather fer merlasses, ain't it?' and they shook their fists and yelled, but we left them, and I guess they're there yet."
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Begun in Harper's Round Table No. 857.