In a large heavy building on the banks of a canal in the city of
Caffreton, all seemed bustle and confusion: barges were at the water
side unloading, and at the land side were waggons being filled with
packages for conveyance into the interior by the rail-roads, and others
starting off heavily laden to supply the traders in the town and
neighbourhood. A considerable number of black slaves were actively
employed in assisting the goods from the barges to the stores, and
from the stores to the waggons; who jostled, shouted, and chattered
apparently with as much noise as they could make; two or three white
men were seen among them giving orders in a loud voice to their dark
associates, and seeing that their commands were promptly attended to.
Under a gloomy archway, which led from the street to the water side were
doors opposite each other. One of these, after passing through a long
warehouse filled with articles of merchandise of every description,
in the midst of which were several slaves of both sexes engaged in
weighing, measuring, and packing parcels of various sizes, led into a
counting house, in which about a dozen blacks, principally young ones,
much better dressed than those in the warehouse, were writing in large
books; and beyond this was a much smaller room, furnished with maps and
a few cumbrous books, wherein two men were seated opposite each other;
one a tall, thin, sharp visaged man about forty, whose features
expressed an extraordinary degree of fear and servility, was reading a
newspaper, and the other, who appeared considerably older, was short
and corpulent, had a dark complexion, and a look of mingled cunning and
fierceness, sat leaning back against a huge arm chair, with an open
ledger on the table before him.
"Foreign stock rising, eh!" inquired the latter.
"Yes, sir," replied the other, glancing his eye over the paper,
"particularly Columbian and Australian."
"How goes the share market?"
"Brisk, sir, in many things--Gondar Railroad at a premium--Congo Canal
at 125-3/8--Ashantee Salt Company, 105-1/2--Mocaranga Timber,
109--Biafra Gold Mines, 200."
"Capital!" exclaimed the elder, rubbing his hands together briskly, and
his forbidding features assuming an expression of intense gratification.
"I shall do well by my speculations there;--but how goes the Madagascar
Silkworm Company?"
"Down to 45, sir," replied the thin man.
"Bankrupt and jails! you scoundrel, it can't be," furiously exclaimed
the other.
"It is so here, sir," said his companion humbly.
"Then my eternal malediction rest on all silk worms. I've lost some
thousands. But you haven't said any thing about the Timbuctoo Beet-root
Sugar."
"Down to 22, sir."
"You rascal, you're trying to put me in a passion; you're inventing
that, because you know I've invested large sums in that affair. I'll
have you whipped like a slave if you don't tell me the truth."
"It is so here, sir," said the man trembling, and turning pale.
"Then the Caffreton Universal Intelligence is a universal liar!"
screamed the other in a rage. "Why, if it's true, I've lost all I gained
by the indigo and cochineal job. It's a bad business, Mr. Quagga.
There's cheating in it! There's ruination in it! I shall be laughed at
on 'Change. My solvency will be suspected--my credit diminish;--but go
on, Mr. Quagga--go on, I'm perfectly cool--I'm not going to put myself
out of temper by such a loss, don't think it. In the name of poverty,
why don't you go on, Mr. Quagga?" thundered out the principal.
"Wer--wer--wer--wer--what shall I read next sir?" inquired his servant
as plainly as his fright would allow.
"Read the arrivals, you stuttering, stupid blockhead," cried the
broker.
"Arrived in the bay, the Sultan from Cairo, Selim, master."
"Nothing for me."
"The Golden Horn, from Stamboul, Mahmoud, master:--twenty chests of
opium, consigned by Mandragora and Poppy."
"Send some one to see it warehoused in the docks."
"Yes, sir," said the clerk, respectfully.
"What next?"
"The Hellas, from Smyrna, Mavricordato, master."
"Nothing for me. Cargo of figs and raisins, from Drum and Company."
"The Albatross, from Columbus, Compass, master."
"Look to that, Quagga--look to that. She belongs to Master Porphyry, the
richest merchant in the whole world. Her cargo is of great value. By
last advices from my correspondent, expect some bales of rich
fabrics.--Go on, Quagga."
"There's a paragraph, here, sir, that seems to relate to that vessel."
"Read it, Quagga."
"'In the Albatross, arrived in our harbour, comes the only son of
the great merchant, Master Porphyry, whose name is in such high
estimation in every part of the civilised world for his wealth and his
philanthropy. It is said that he has come out on a commercial voyage,
and that it was Master Porphyry's desire that his son should visit
some of the most celebrated places of traffic in various parts of the
globe.'"
"Very good, except philanthropy, which is all humbug, you know, Quagga,"
observed the broker, "a bad spec--a dead loss.--We must look after
him"--and the face of the master seemed to glance more pleasantly upon
his servant.--"Well, what provincial news?" he asked, after a pause.
"'We regret to inform our readers, that the respectable banking house of
Mangel Wurzel, Carrots, and Co., at Lattakoo, have stopped payment.'"
"Stopped payment, you rascal!" shouted the broker, his face becoming
purple with rage. "How dare you tell me Mangel Wurzel and Co. have
stopped payment? It's all a conspiracy--a base invention--a lie--a
cheat! You know I've got all the payments made to me per the
Springbok--on account of that fine gang of Hottentots--in their wretched
paper. I'll have you hanged, you scoundrel, for deceiving me. I'll----"
Here the torrent of his indignation was interrupted by one of the young
slaves from the counting-house showing himself at the door.
"Well, you imp of darkness! what do you want?" he cried.
"Cap'ain Gumpas, sar, want to peak wi' you," said the young Hottentot.
"Who, scoundrel?"
"Cap'ain Gumpass, sar, ship Albatross."
"Admit him, instantly."
The slave disappeared, and so did the broker's passion.
In a moment afterwards the door opened, and a tall man, of rather
handsome exterior, whom it would have been impossible to have
recognised as the Captain Compass of the Albatross, had it not been
for a peculiar expression in the countenance--sarcastic, bold, and
treacherous--no one could mistake, entered the room. His whiskers had
disappeared, the colour of his hair had changed, and he looked a much
younger and better featured man than he appeared the day previous. As he
advanced, the broker seemed to gaze upon him with fear and wonder.
"Well, old Boor, is this the hail I'm to meet after such a long cruise?"
cried the captain.
Boor stared till his yellow eye-balls appeared starting out of his head.
"Dockets and bad bills!" at last he exclaimed, with a long breath,
"surely it can't be you!"
"But it is, though, old boy, and I'm afloat in the most slappish style,"
replied the other.
"But how did you escape, when----"
"No matter," said the captain, interrupting his companion. "I'm come to
have a little bit of a confabulation with you about a matter that will
enrich us both."
"This way, my good friend," hastily whispered the broker, leading his
associate cautiously to a little door at the further extremity of the
room, which opened into a smaller apartment, filled with iron safes,
papers, and books. "This way, captain--this way," added he; then turning
to his clerk, said, "Don't let me be interrupted, Quagga," as the door
opened and closed upon the pair: and there they remained in close
conference for a full hour, to the great mystification of the principal
clerk. When they returned, the features of the captain wore an air of
triumph, and the countenance of Boor expressed all the congratulation of
successful cunning.
"Every thing shall be managed according to your desire, captain," he
remarked.
"Be cautious," said the other.
"Depend upon that," responded his companion. "You had better go out at
this side door."
The captain was going out as directed, when he quickly asked, "When
shall I see you again?"
"To-morrow night," replied his associate.
"Agreed."
When his visiter had taken his departure, the broker seemed to have
forgotten the losses that had affected him so much a short time
previous. His unprepossessing countenance appeared lit up with a
continual smile of inward satisfaction, as he leaned back upon his
chair, occasionally resting his hands upon his capacious stomach, then
crossing his arms--then leaning his chin upon his hand as if in deep
reflection, uttering such ejaculations as "capital scheme"--"hazardous
though"--"daring villain"--"worth the risk," and others of a similar
nature--till the wondering Quagga, neither daring to move or to speak,
began to imagine that his tyrannical master had lost the use of his
senses. At that moment the door opened again, and the same slave made
his appearance.
"Ha, Beelzebub!" shouted Master Boor, "what now?"
"Massa Porfry, sar, and young gennleman ob colour wish to peak wi' you,"
said the youth.
"Admit them," he exclaimed. Then in a lower tone said, "Coloured
persons! what can he mean by bringing such vermin here?" However, though
considering the introduction of such a person an indignity, the game he
had to play induced him for the present to forget his prejudices, and he
met his visitors with every appearance of cordiality.
"Welcome to Caffreton, welcome to the sunny shores of Afrik;" he cried
as they advanced into the room. "The land of universal liberty.--Quagga,
tell those slaves if I hear them chattering again, I'll give them the
lash----!"
"Yes, sir!" said Quagga; and immediately delivered the message.
"The land of universal equality.--Quagga, you scoundrel! why don't you
get seats for the gentlemen----?"
"Yes, sir!" said Quagga; and instantly did as he was desired.
"And the land of universal freedom of conscience.--Quagga! tell Pipkin,
that if he doesn't choose to attend the same church as his master, I'll
thrash his soul out of his body."
"Yes, sir," said Quagga; and Pipkin received the brutal command.
Oriel Porphyry seemed in some degree amused by this exemplification of
liberty, equality, and freedom of conscience, but he said nothing; and
Zabra seemed intently observing the countenances of the clerk and his
master.
"I hope your worthy father is well, sir," continued Boor. "Health's a
precious commodity--cannot be too highly prized. Quagga! is Nimbo in the
warehouse yet?"
"No, sir; doctor says he can't stand," said the clerk.
"Then tell him if he don't come down I'll make him," said his master
with ferocious emphasis.
"Yes, sir;" replied the obedient Quagga.
"Your father does a deal of good, sir, with his charities," he resumed.
"Ah! charity's a fine thing!--an admirable thing! I do a wonderful deal
of good myself that way sometimes. I give the poor all the bad coin
that comes into my hands. I do a deal of good I assure you. Your father
enjoys a great reputation for integrity in his dealings. Nothing like
it, sir;--It is always at a premium. Hope you will tread in your
father's footsteps; and if you should have a desire for speculating, I
trust the credit I possess will induce you to place confidence in me. I
should recommend you to invest largely in the shares of the Madagascar
Silk Worm Company, and the Timbuctoo Beet-root Sugar Joint Stock
Association. I have some shares at my disposal, which, although they're
now very high in the market, to oblige the son of so respectable a man
as my correspondent, master Porphyry, I would let you have at a fair
price,--say the first at 95-7/8, and the other at 80."
"I am obliged to you," replied Oriel Porphyry; "but I have no desire to
speculate in such things at present."
"Very good--very good," said the broker, not at all disconcerted at
the failure of his schemes. "Caution is advisable in all mercantile
transactions, and I am the last person in the world to suggest any thing
to you, which I do not think would turn to your advantage. Perhaps you
have bullion to dispose of? If so, I could afford a very handsome per
centage, and exchange with you to a considerable amount in notes of one
of the most steady banks in the country--that of Mangel Wurzel, Carrots
and Co. at Lattakoo."
"I'm much obliged to you; but as my stay in this part of the world must
be brief, it would not be advisable to change my bullion into the paper
currency of the country;" said Oriel.
"True--true;" remarked master Boor, and a cloud did pass over his
gloomy countenance when he found he could not dispose of any of his
unprofitable speculations. "You are right. So you do not intend staying
here? Fine country. No kings--none of _that_ nonsense. Every man does
just as he likes, and cares for nobody.--Quagga! you rascal, I'll have
you flayed alive if you don't finish that intricate account with
Botherem, Blunder, and Bigfist, in an hour." The frightened clerk began
to write away with the speed of a steam-engine. "In no place in the
world is the right of opinion so much respected.--Quagga, you scoundrel!
I understand you spoke at the Universal Consolidated Democratic
Discussion Society, against the measure now before the legislature for
the tax on tenpenny nails. How dare you oppose my political sentiments!
This is insolence, sir--treason, anarchy, and rebellion! If ever I
hear you entertain an opinion different from mine again, I'll have you
inclosed within four stone walls and starve you upon a mouthful a day."
Quagga trembled like an aspen, and did not dare lift his eyes from the
book.
"Yes, sir, I repeat, this is the only country on the face of the globe,
where mankind enjoy a perfect state of civil and religious liberty. What
do they think of us, sir, in Columbia? Don't they envy us our noble
institutions, ey? Our excellent government--our enlightened people?"
"Why, those who ever do think of the African states--"
"Ever think of them!" cried the old fellow, with emphasis, interrupting
the speaker; "they must always think of them. They cannot help drawing
comparisons, sir, with their own wretched state; and they must
therefore be wonderfully desirous of sharing in the blessings we enjoy."
"I really never heard of such a desire existing in any part of the
country;" observed Oriel.
"Ah, sir, they live in a wretched state of despotism, and they dare not
express their sentiments;" replied the broker. "There cannot be anything
like public virtue amongst them--no political honesty--no notion of true
liberty. But how did you make the voyage, sir?"
"Admirably!" exclaimed the merchant's son. "The Albatross is one of the
most perfect vessels that was ever launched."
"Nothing like the African shipping, depend upon it--made of free timber,
sir?--beat all vessels at sailing, and last for ever. Skilful captain
that Compass, sir--known him long; knew his father--highly respectable.
You may place the greatest confidence in him, I assure you."
During the preceding sentences Zabra kept his eyes fixed upon the face
of the speaker, which he observing, turned his own gaze upon the person
so earnestly regarding him; but the piercing look that met his quite
disconcerted him. His complexion grew more livid; his look became
confused; he frowned and smiled by turns; he shifted his position, and
evinced by many other signs that he was anything but at ease under the
scrutiny to which he was subjected. At last, unable to endure it any
longer, he said, in a tone in which anger seemed struggling with
indifference. "Who is that person of colour, sir? it is not usual to
bring people of that class in company with free Africans."
"That young gentleman is my most esteemed and intimate friend;" replied
Oriel.
"Oh, I beg pardon; but it's not respectable to have such friends in a
free and enlightened country like the African States; and the 'young
gentleman'," said he, with contemptuous emphasis, "seems to look on me
as if he knew me intimately."
"I do know you intimately, sir;" remarked Zabra, bending on the old man
a stern and searching look.
"Well, this assurance beats any thing I ever saw. Why, I never met with
your coppery countenance before," said the broker, indignantly.
"You spoke the truth _there_," replied Zabra, still continuing to regard
him with the same earnestness; and the broker's attempts to conceal his
passion and his uneasiness became every moment more unsuccessful.
"He is thus to every one," observed Oriel Porphyry; "and he means no
offence. But let us proceed to business. According to your request,
my father has sent you a lot of fabrics of the choicest patterns and
materials, which I shall give you an order to remove from the docks upon
receiving payment in gold. You can examine them if necessary, whenever
it is convenient to you, when you will find them exactly of the
description you ordered. I am also commissioned to purchase, to any
amount, ivory, gold dust, gums, pearls and precious stones, ostrich
feathers, amber, and any other article of traffic of approved quality
that may suit the Columbian markets, or that may be turned to a
profitable account during my voyage. They can be paid for in money or
in goods--whichever should be most desirable."
"Good--good," remarked the broker, losing, in his attention to business,
all his angry feelings. "Ah! let me see. I think I shall be able to
treat with you for a considerable portion of your cargo; and, as a
particular friend, I should not advise you to go to any strange brokers;
they'll take you in, depend upon it."
"Why, I thought, in this free country, all your transactions were
distinguished by a degree of honesty superior to that of other nations;"
said Oriel.
"Yes, yes," hastily replied master Boor, considerably puzzled to account
for the discrepancy in his statements. "But every man will make a good
bargain, if he can."
"Then what offer are you inclined to make for a thousand bales of lace
and cambric goods, best quality?"
"Why, you see, master Porphyry, the truth is, the market here is a
little overstocked just now with those articles; they are a complete
drug."
"I have good reason to believe there is a great demand for them," said
Oriel.
"Nothing of the kind, master Porphyry. I wouldn't deceive you for the
world. But, although things are so heavy, I don't mind offering twenty
thousand dollars for them, either in money or goods."
"That is just half I am commissioned to take;" remarked the young
merchant, rising to go away. "And as we shall not be able to do business
on those terms, I must seek a more advantageous market."
"Don't be too hasty, sir. Reflect before you determine. The price I
offer is a good price; and it is impossible you can get one so high,
search Caffreton through and through." Perceiving his visitors were at
the door, he added--"Suppose we say five and twenty--a great risk--a
hazardous----"
"Good day to you, master Boor!" exclaimed Oriel, bending his head
proudly, and departed with his companion through the counting-house.
The old man scowled after his visitors, muttering to himself,--"I'll
have them at a less price, in spite of you."
About the same time two persons were seen walking cautiously through a
narrow unfrequented street in the suburbs of the town, connected with a
number of other thoroughfares of a like description, chiefly inhabited
by the lowest class of the black population. The tallest of the two, who
was a little in advance of his companion, whose short dumpy figure and
conceited physiognomy it was impossible to mistake, turned round, and
addressed his associate:--
"Come, master Log, show more sail. I'm spiflicated if we shall ever find
safe anchorage if you don't. I think I arn't forgotten the landmarks;
but, somehow, I've got into a little bit of a mystification about making
the proper tacks. This is it! No, it arn't! Ha! Now I see, as clean as a
cable. There's the sign o' the Ship, at the corner yonder. We goes right
ahead there; then we makes a tack; then we goes ahead again; then we
makes another tack; then I knows all the whereabouts. That's right,
arnt it, mister?"
"Right--right--very right--decidedly right--absolutely right: indeed, I
may say, positively right, mister Scrumpydike," responded the little
man, endeavouring to keep pace with his more bulky companion.
"Here comes another Hottentot;" said Scrumpydike, noticing an individual
of that race approaching them. "What a lot o' them black craft one meets
wi' steerin' about in these here seas; they puts one in mind o' a fleet
of colliers, creepin' along shore. But this nigger _is_ black, arnt he,
master Log?"
"Black, black,--monstrous black,--very monstrous black--upon my word
most diabolically black, mister Scrumpydike;" replied the captain's
clerk, puffing and blowing with the exertion he made to prolong his
walk.
"I say, won't them bugaboos afloat entertain something of a 'stonishment
when we commences the fun. Don't you think some on 'em 'll go mad?"
inquired the other.
"Mad, mad,--very mad, very mad, indeed,--pretty considerably wild,
stiff, stark, staring mad, mister Scrumpydike," rejoined his companion.
They had now reached one of the narrowest, darkest, and filthiest
streets in that quarter of the town; and by the expression of
satisfaction that gleamed on the coarse features of Scrumpydike, it was
evident that they were near the end of their journey. They proceeded
along this street till they came to a court through which they passed,
and entered a lane where there were no houses on one side, and very few,
and those far apart on the other. Keeping on the side where the houses
were, they followed the footpath, till they came to a ruined habitation
of the poorest class, little better than a mud kraal. The few windows it
possessed were broken and covered with dirt; its door was battered to a
fragment; the roof had fallen in, and the walls threatened to tumble.
Looking cautiously round to see if any persons were observing them, the
sailor removed the door to admit himself and his companion, and then
carefully replaced it; afterwards they picked their way over fragments
of stone and timber, through a moderate sized chamber, and descended a
long flight of steps till they came to a wall.
"Ship ahoy!" shouted Scrumpydike, putting his mouth near the wall.
"What cheer?" was answered in a low voice from within.
"Death and gold!" was the strange reply; immediately after which,
bolts were heard quickly drawn, and the wall, or rather a door made to
resemble the wall in which it was placed opened, and a stout, active man
of a fierce aspect, clad in coarse jacket and trowsers, without shoes
or cap, carrying a naked cutlass in his hand, and wearing several large
pistols in his belt, became visible by the light of a torch that burned
stuck upright in the ground beside him. Without another word Log and
Scrumpydike entered. The door was quickly closed, the bolts set, and
the man, taking up the torch, preceded them through a long passage or
cellar, till they were stopped by the brickwork.
"Ship ahoy!" shouted the man.
"What cheer?" was answered from within.
"Death and gold!" he replied. In an instant another door opened, the man
turned back, and the captain's clerk, and his companion were admitted
into a long subterranean chamber, in which the many torches that were
burning enabled them to distinguish the figures of about twenty men,
dressed like sailors, all variously armed, seated round a large table
covered with drinking vessels. Immediately Scrumpydike made his
appearance, the whole party set up a loud shout of welcome, and in
a moment they were all crowding round him, shaking hands, asking
questions, and offering him refreshment.
"Ha! let us stow in a cargo o' some sort or other," said the sailor,
seating himself before what appeared to be the remains of a roast kid,
and proceeding to help himself. "I've had a desperate long cruise here.
Come, master Log, bear a hand:" a command the captain's clerk was not
slow in executing. "And so you'd given me up, ey? never made a worser
recknin; scrunch me if I arnt a got more lives nor a cat. But the best
of the joke is," said he taking a hearty draught from a can of liquor
which was handed to him, and which example was immediately followed by
his companion; "the best o' the joke is--but you'll think I'm gammonin'
ye--I knows you will. The joke is--I've been livin' in the most
honestest way you ever heard on."
The whole party raised a shout of incredulity, and laughed in derision
at such an idea.
"I know'd how it would be--I was afear'd I should lose my precious
character," remarked the man gloomily; "but master Log can tell ye as
how I ha' been for a matter o' two or three months most abominably
honest,--arn't I master Log?"
"Honest--honest," replied the captain's clerk, moving the wine can
from his mouth a short distance; "shamefully honest--disgracefully
honest--indeed I may say villainously honest, master Scrumpydike."
The men stared with astonishment, and many still seemed to doubt his
assertion.
"Nobody can lament the unfortnit occurrence more nor I do," said
Scrumpydike; "but what's done can't be undone,--so clear the decks o'
this lumber--pipe all hands to grog, and I'll tell ye a sort o' summat
much more nat'ral and creditable."
The eatables were cleared off into an open pantry at the side, and fresh
flasks of liquor and drinking vessels were placed on the table. Some
of the men began to smoke from long pipes; others made for themselves
mixtures of the different beverages before them; and every one sat
himself down laughing and joking with the rest with the evident
intention of commencing a carouse. Log having procured a pipe almost as
big as himself, and a large jug of a strong potation he had carefully
prepared, sat smirking with secret satisfaction at his own comfort. His
pig-like eyes twinkled with self-conceit, and his pug nose seemed to
curl itself up with delight. Opposite to him, but not less at his ease,
sat Scrumpydike. He also had taken care of himself after a similar
fashion; and the humorous twist of his ugly countenance became every
minute more evident. The set by whom they were surrounded, were
remarkable for the daring and somewhat ferocious character of their
features, and the great variety of their costumes; and as they sat
enveloped in the smoke they were creating, bandying the ready jest, and
pushing about the intoxicating liquor, they presented to the eye a band
of as determined ruffians as the whole world could have produced.
"Have you all a mind for a job?" at last inquired Scrumpydike.
"Every one on us," replied a stout fellow with a red nose and a fierce
squint. "We've been laid up here for a month or more, waiting for a
'portunity to get afloat."
"Well, Billbo! you shall go aboard a prime craft afore another week's
out, or I'm less nor nobody."
"Hurra!" exclaimed the men joyfully.
"I can't tell ye the 'ticulars just now," he continued; "but I'll make
it all plain sailin' afore you goes. Push the stuff about; a ship at
anchor makes no way. Here's to ye, my trumps! wi' lots o' plunder and a
wide berth; and may we stick to one another while there's a plank left
for us to stand on."
"Hurra!" replied his associates with increased delight! and they all
seemed now to abandon themselves to riot and debauchery with additional
zest. Briskly were the liquor cans replenished, rapidly was the tobacco
consumed;--the laugh became louder, and occasionally an attempt at a
ribald song was made by some of the more musical members of the company.
"Well, scrunch me! if this arn't pleasant in the extreme," said the
individual addressed as Billbo; who, by the vacuity of his gaze, and
the unsteadiness of his body, was evidently far gone towards complete
intoxication. "I'm as happy as if I was a cap'ain. I'm happier nor any
body. I'm happier nor any body, afloat or ashore."
"You arn't more happier nor me!" shouted a big-headed fellow fiercely,
from the other end of the table, as he attempted to get upon his legs.
"I'm happier nor any body," repeated the man with the squint.
"I don't allow nobody to be more happier nor me," cried the other, as
he, after repeated efforts, attained the perpendicular.
"I'm happier nor any body," doggedly repeated Billbo.
"Then I'm spiflicated if I don't give you toko, 'cause you arn't no
business to be more happier nor me," rejoined his associate, attempting
to draw his cutlass.
"Silence, Loggerhead!" shouted Scrumpydike, in a voice of thunder
that made the captain's clerk start from his seat with affright. "No
squabbling, or you'll get a broadside from one as arn't fond o'
trifling."
"He says he's more happier nor me," exclaimed Loggerhead, in a most
lachrymose tone of voice.
"I'm happier nor any body," repeated the pertinacious Billbo, his eyes
squinting defiance upon his jealous antagonist.
"Silence, Billbo!" shouted Scrumpydike, "or I'll rake ye fore and aft."
"He arn't no right to be more happier nor me," cried Loggerhead, as the
tears swelled in his eyes at such an assumption of superior happiness.
"I'm very happy!" he added, in a manner the most miserable that can be
conceived. "Unkimmon happy. I'm as happy as a fellow can be in this here
molloncholy world;" and he began crying like a fretful child.
"I'm happier nor any body," muttered the other, sinking back upon the
floor.
"Let's have a song!" cried Scrumpydike.
"A song, a song," echoed as many of his associates as were able to
speak.
"A song, master Log," continued Scrumpydike, with the desire of
preventing a quarrel among his drunken companions. "Come, my prince o'
singing birds! Pipe away till all's blue. You're a reg'lar trump at
chaunting a good stave; a right-down warbler; a nightingale's a fool to
ye. Arn't it true, now?"
"True, true--very true--undeniably true--most undeniably true--most
undeniably true, indeed, mister Scrumpydike," cried the captain's clerk,
his gratified vanity visible even through the sleepy expression that
now characterised his countenance; and after a few preparatory hems,
considerable smirking, and a plentiful affectation of modesty, he sang,
in a voice that might have frightened an owl, the following verses:--
"Woman and wine are my delight;
Woman and wine! woman and wine!
Woman and wine are my delight,
From Monday morning till Saturday night;
For they cheer the heart and gladden the sight,
And make a man feel divine:
From woman's glances all fondness flows,
And wine rejoices wherever it goes,
And both are a cure for all earthly woes,--
Woman and wine! woman and wine!
"I went a courting once on a time,
Woman and wine! woman and wine!
I went a courting once on a time,
And I flattered my deary in prose and in rhyme;
And though the stuff was not by any means prime,
She vowed it was monstrous fine:
But in wine's inspiration my praise had been clad,
And whatever I said she could never think bad,
For I always 'saw double' the charms that she had:
Woman and wine! woman and wine!
"I took to wine as a friend in need;
Woman and wine! woman and wine!
I took to wine as a friend in need,
And have ever since found it a friend indeed,
Which nothing on earth could be brought to exceed,
Or made so completely mine:
In Fortune's smile, and in Fortune's frown,
It laid me up, and it laid me down;
And went to my heart by a way of its own,
Woman and wine! woman and wine!
"Oh, woman and wine are capital things--
Woman and wine! woman and wine!
Woman and wine are capital things,
In gladness or care to man's soul ever springs,
To which each its own perfect felicity brings;
And long may such pleasures combine:
And he who would ever, by night or by day,
In sorrow or joy, turn from either away,
Should never in better men's company stay,
Woman and wine! woman and wine!"
While his associates were wildly shouting, in a dozen different keys,
the burthen of the song, Log, in whom the exertion of singing had
destroyed the little sense he had remaining, as he was swinging his body
back, lost his balance, pitched head over heels off his seat, and then
rolled under the table, in a state of complete insensibility.