“'If you'll forsake your house-carpentèr And go along with me, I'll take you to where the grass grows green On the banks of the sweet Wil-lee!' “'If I forsake my house-carpentèr. And go along with thee, It's what have you got for to maintain me upon, And to keep me from slave-ree?' “'It's I have sixteen ships at sea, All sailing for dry land, And four-and-twenty sailors all on board Shall be at your command!' “She then took up her lovely little babe, And she gave it kisses three; 'Lie still, lie still, my lovely little babe, And keep thy father compa-nee!' “She dressed herself in rich array, And she walked in high degree, And the four-and-twenty sailors took 'em on board. And they sailed for the open sea! “They had not been at sea two weeks, And I'm sure it was not three, Before this maid she began for to weep, And she wept most bitter-lee. “'It's do you weep for your gold?' cries he; 'Or do you weep for your store, Or do you weep for your house-carpenter You never shall see any more?' “'I do not weep for my gold,' cries she, 'Nor I do not weep for my store, But it's I do weep for my lovely little babe, I never shall see any more!' “They had not been at sea three weeks, And I'm sure it was not four, When the vessel it did spring a leak, And it sank to rise no more!” “Now, Mark, here comes the Moral: “Oh, cruel be ye, sea-farin' men, Oh, cruel be your lives,-- A-robbing of the house-carpenters, And a-taking of their wives!” The shouts and laughter which greeted the conclusion of Miss Lavender's song brought Dr. Deane into the room. He was a little alarmed lest his standing in the Society might be damaged by so much and such unrestrained merriment under his roof. Still he had scarcely the courage to reprimand the bright, joyous faces before him; he only smiled, shook his head, and turned to leave. “I'm a-goin', too,” said Miss Lavender, rising. “The sun's not an hour high, and the Doctor, or somebody, must take Mary Barton home; and it's about time the rest o' you was makin' ready; though they've gone on with the supper, there's enough to do when you get there!” The chair rolled away again, and the bridal party remounted their horses in the warm, level light of the sinking sun. They were all in their saddles except Gilbert and Martha. “Go on!” he cried, in answer to their calls; “we will follow.”