[Pg 6336]"I beg your Honor's leave," he said:— "If you would wish to go and wed, "I have a widowed mother who Would be the very thing for you— She long has loved you from afar: She washes for you, Captain R." The captain saw the dame that day— Addressed her in his playful way:— "And did it want a wedding ring? It was a tempting ickle sing! "Well, well, the chaplain I will seek, We'll all be married this day week At yonder church upon the hill; It is my duty, and I will!" The sisters, cousins, aunts, and niece, And widowed ma of Captain Reece, Attended there as they were bid: It was their duty, and they did. THE YARN OF THE NANCY BELL 'Twas on the shores that round our coast From Deal to Ramsgate span, That I found alone on a piece of stone An elderly naval man. His hair was weedy, his beard was long, And weedy and long was he; And I heard this wight on the shore recite, In a singular minor key:— "Oh, I am a cook, and a captain bold, And the mate of the Nancy brig, And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, And the crew of the captain's gig." And he shook his fists and he tore his hair, Till I really felt afraid, For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking, And so I simply said:— [Pg 6337] "O elderly man, it's little I know Of the duties of men of the sea, And I'll eat my hand if I understand However you can be "At once a cook, and a captain bold, And the mate of the Nancy brig, And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, And the crew of the captain's gig." And he gave a hitch to his trousers, which Is a trick all seamen larn, And having got rid of a thumping quid, He spun his painful yarn:— "'Twas in the good ship Nancy Bell That we sailed to the Indian Sea, And there on a reef we come to grief, Which has often occurred to me. "And pretty nigh all the crew was drowned (There was seventy-seven o' soul), And only ten of the Nancy's men Said 'Here!' to the muster-roll. "There was me and the cook and the captain bold, And the mate of the Nancy brig, And the bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, And the crew of the captain's gig. "For a month we'd neither wittles nor drink, Till a-hungry we did feel; So we drawed a lot, and accordin', shot The captain for our meal. "The next lot fell to the Nancy's mate, And a delicate dish he made; Then our appetite with the midshipmite We seven survivors stayed. "And then we murdered the bo'sun tight, And he much resembled pig; Then we wittled free, did the cook and me On the crew of the captain's gig. "Then only the cook and me was left, And the delicate question, 'Which [Pg 6338]Of us two goes to the kettle?' arose, And we argued it out as sich. "For I loved that cook as a brother, I did, And the cook he worshiped me; But we'd both be blowed if we'd either be stowed In the other chap's hold, you see. "'I'll be eat if you dines off me,' says Tom; 'Yes, that,' says I, 'you'll be: