The king may pride, In his empire wide, A robber like us is he, With iron hand, He robs on land, As we rob on the sea. The priest in his gown, Upon us may frown, The merchant our foe may be, Let the judge in his wig, And the lawyer look big, They're robbers as well as we! Then fill up the bowl, Through heart and through soul, Let the red wine circle free, Drink health and cheer, To the Buccaneer. He's monarch of the sea. "I like that song," said one of the men, whose long sober face and solemn, drawling voice had gained for him among his companions the title of Parson. "I like that song; it has the ring of the true metal, and speaks my sentiments exactly. It's as good as a sermon, and better than some sermons I've heard." "It preaches the doctrine I've always preached, and that is that the whole world is filled with creatures who live by preying upon each other, and of all the animals that infest the earth, man is the worst and cruelest." "What! Parson!" said one of the men, "you don't mean to say that the whole world's nothing but a set of thieves and murderers!" "Yes; I do," said the parson; "or something just as bad." "I'd like to know how you make that out," put in Jones Bradley. "I had a good old mother once, and a father now dead and gone. I own I'm bad enough myself, but no argument of yours parson, or any body else's can make me believe that they were thieves and murderers." "I don't mean to be personal," said the parson, "your father and mother may have been angels for all I know, but I'll undertake to show that all the rest of the world, lawyers, doctors and all, are a set of thieves and murderers, or something just as bad." "Well Parson, s'pose you put the stopper on there," shouted one of the men; "if you can sing a song, or spin a yarn, it's all right; but this ain't a church, and we don't want to listen to one of your long-winded sermons tonight." "Amen!" came from the voices of nearly all present. The Parson thus rebuked, was fain to hold his peace for the rest of the evening. After a pause of a few moments, one of the men reminded Captain Flint, that he had promised to inform them how he came to adopt their honorable calling as a profession. "Well," said the captain, "I suppose I might as well do it now, as at any other time; and if no one else has anything better to offer, I'll commence; and to begin at the beginning, I was born in London. About my schooling and bringing up, I haven't much to say, as an account of it would only be a bore. "My father was a merchant and although I suppose one ought not to speak disrespectfully of one's father, he was, I must say, as gripping, and tight-fisted a man as ever walked the earth.