[Half turn astarn!—Half turn astarn! Go on!—Go on!]

Farewell! farewell! though I could stay and gaze

On thy bright tide, sweet Sea, for endless days;

But earthly voices call me to the shore,

I must away; fare—fare-thee-well once more!

(In a very small voice, half a mile off.)

[Holloa, marm, you can't get back! you've let the tide come up all roun you, and if you attempt to stir you're a drownded woman. Stop where you are, and hold fast by your camp-stool till the man comes; and he'll bring you ashore wery comfortable on his back for half-a-crown.]

A WATER PARTY.
TEA-TOTALLERS IN THEIR CUPS.

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