The boy did so, and Tailtackle, after moistening well his dexter claw with tobacco juice, seized the stick with his left by the middle, and balancing it for a second or two, he began to fasten the end of it into his right fist, as if he had been screwing a bolt into a socket. Having satisfied himself that his grip was secure, he let go the hold with his left hand, and crossed his arms on his breast, with the weapon projecting over his left shoulder, like the drone of a bagpipe. The Device continued his chant, giving the seaman a wide berth, however: “But when him once two tree year here, Him tink white lady wery great boder; De coloured peoples, never fear, Ah, him lob him de morest nor any oder.” Then another tumblification of the whole party. “But top-one time bad fever catch him, colour’d peoples kindly watch him in sick-room, nurse voice like music from him hand taste sweet de physic. Another trampoline.” “So alway come--in two tree year, and so wid you, massa never fear brown girl for cook--for wife--for nurse: buccra lady--poo--no wort a curse.” “Get away, you scandalous scoundrel,” cried I; “away with you, sir!” Here the morrice-dancers began to circle round old Tailtackle, keeping him on the move, spinning round like a weathercock in a whirlwind, while they shouted, “Oh, massa, one macaronilt if you please.” To get quit of their importunity, Captain Transom gave them one. “Ah, good massa, tank you, sweet massa!” And away danced John Canoe and his tail, careering up the street. In the same way all the other crafts and trades had their Gumbimen, Hornblowers, John Canoes, and Nondescript. The Gardeners came nearest of any thing I had seen before to the Mayday boys in London; with this advantage, that their jack-in-the--Green was incomparably more beautiful, from the superior bloom of the larger flowers used in composing it. The very workhouse people, whose province it is to guard the Negro culprits who may be committed to it, and to inflict punishment on them, when required, had their John Canoe and Device; and their prime jest seemed to be every now and then to throw the fellow down who enacted the latter at the corner of a street, and to administer a sound flogging to him. The John Canoe, who was the workhouse driver, was dressed up in a lawyer’s cast off gown and bands, black silk breeches, no stockings nor shoes, but with sandals of bullock’s hide strapped on his great splay feet, a small cocked hat on his head, to which were appended a large cauliflower wig, and the usual white false-face, bearing a very laughable resemblance to Chief-justice S----, with whom I happened to be personally acquainted.