[_The passengers regard him with increased respect._ _The Mate_ (_familiarly to the Captain_). Yes, dear; you don't want to die in here, _do_ you? (_explanatorily_) "die in"--_dine_--you'll excuse _me_, but the ocean always makes me feel so facetious. Captain, dear, if you'll pardon a common sailor like myself for making the suggestion, I beg to call upon you for a song. (_The Captain obligingly bellows "The Stormy Nore--The Jolly old Nore," to the general satisfaction_). Ah, they didn't know what a canary-bird you _were_, Captain! Here's a lady asking you to drink at her expense. [_The Captain is prevailed upon to accept a tumbler of "the usual;" the Stout Lady says "Captin, your 'elth!" and pledges him in a whiskey-and-soda._ _First Female Friend_ (_to Second Do. Do._). That's Mrs. EDLING, all over, puttin' herself so forward! Look at her now, 'anding him up two cigars in a paper-bag. I call it sickenin'! _Second Do. Do._ I'm not surprised. She's a woman that 'ud do anythink for notoriety. I've always noticed _that_ in her. _Captain_ (_to Mate_). Ease the brails! _Mate_ (_frivolously, after obeying_). They're feeling better _now_, darlin'! If no one else'll sing a song, I'll give you "_The Midshipmite_." _The Stout Lady._ I do like the way those two go on together; it's as good as a play. I shall begin laughin' presently; it takes a deal to set me _off_, but when I once _am_ off, I can't stop myself. (_The Mate sings._) A sweet singer _he_ is, too. Lor! it's like goin' for a sail in a Music-'All! _The Chirpy Man._ Yes, I'm comin' to set down a bit. Not so much motion _'ere_, yer know. No use trying to smoke in this breeze. No, I was on'y yawning. Makes yer sleepy, this see-saw does. Don't _you_ find it so? _Mate_ (_to Sailor_). Now, WILLIAM, it's your turn--you're goin' to sing us something? _William_ (_gruffly_). No, I ain't. But there's a gen'lman 'ere as says he'll recite. [_After some persuasion, a Mild Young Man is induced to step forward on the foredeck, and recite as follows_:-- _The Mild Young Man_ (_balancing himself with some difficulty_). "Pirate, that's what I _was_, Sir. Talk about Captain KIDD-- His cruellest acts were kindness, compared with the deeds _I_ did! Never a pitying pang felt I for youth, sex, age, or rank-- All who fell into my clutches were doomed to pace a protruded plank! Yet the desperate demon of those days is now a Churchwarden mild, Holding the bag at Collections--and all through a golden-haired child!" [_Here the_ Mate _suppresses a groan, and is understood to remark that he "knows that golden-haired child;" the_ Stout Lady _sighs, and inwardly reflects that you can never go by appearances; the_ Chirpy Man _becomes solemn and attentive._