So at it they all went again, more vigorously than ever, and sang new songs, some of which were of a kind never before heard in these waters. One in particular, which was sung to a remarkable fugue tune, was called Ode to Disappointment. I never had a piece of bread Particularly wide, Partic-kik-kik-kik-kik-cu-lar-ly wide, But fell upon the dusty floor, All on the buttered side. All on the but-- All on the but-- All on the but-- All on the but-- All on the but-tut-tut-tut-tut-tut-tered side. And always thus, from childhood’s hour, This luck on me has fell. This luck-kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk on me has fell. There always comes a soaking shower, When I’ve no umberell, When I’ve no umb-- When I’ve no umb-- When I’ve no umb-- When I’ve no umb-- When I’ve no umb-bum-bum-bum-bum-bum- bum-be-rell! This spirited ode was the arrangement of Phil, who prided himself hugely upon it. He did not claim it as original, but as having been “arranged” and “adapted” to its present tune. “Well, boys,” said Bruce at length, “I dare say we are making some progress; but it strikes me that it hardly pays.” “No,” said Tom. “At this rate it’ll take us till to-morrow morning to make another mile.” “I don’t object to rowing all night,” said Phil, “but I do object to row without getting the benefit of it.” “I move,” said Arthur, “that we vote the sweeps a humbug.” “I second that motion,” said Phil. “Gentlemen,” said Bruce, “it’s being moved and seconded, that the sweeps are a humbug. Those of that mind will please manifest it by saying Ay.” “Ay!” rang forth from Arthur, Tom, and Phil. “Contrary minds, Nay.” No response. “It’s a vote,” said Bruce. “And now, gentlemen, we may as well consider what’s to be done next.” “O, well,” said Phil, as he and the other boys left the sweeps which Turnbull and Wade, however, still kept working. “I suppose there’s nothing left to do but to turn in.” “It can’t be helped,” said Arthur. “We’ll have to make the best of it,” said Tom. “I say, boys,” said Bruce, “why can’t we take the boat and row to Chester?” “A good idea,” cried Arthur. “Capital. I only wish we’d done it before.” “Captain,” said Tom, “we’re going to take the boat.” “Hadn’t you better wait a little,” said the anxious Corbet, who was evidently not pleased with the proposal. “O there’s no use; we want to get to Chester to-night. You’ll get along before morning. How many miles is it from here?” he asked, turning to Turnbull. “Four,” said that taciturn individual. “Four miles. Well, boys, what do you say?” “I’m agreed,” said Bruce.