"And thus they lost their precious lives;
But the greatest loss was to their wives;
Who with their children left on shore,
Their husbands' watery death deplore⚫
And wept their loss with many tears;
(But grief endureth not for years).
"Now you who've a mind to go to sea,
Pray take a useful hint from me,
And live at home, and be content
With what kind Providence has sent;
For they were punish'd for their misdeeds,
In grumbling when they had no needs.

"Now God preserve our noble queen,
Likewise her ministers serene;

And may they ever steer a course,
To make things better 'stead of worse,
And England's flag triumphant fly,
The dread of hevery he-ne-my."

"You call dat singing! Stop now! I sing a song you nebber hear in all you life," cried Opposition Bill, tuning his fiddle.

"And never wish to hear again, most likely," replied Dick. "Out with it, Bill! your face shines beautifully this morning."

"I take de shine out of you, Massa Dick; now yo listen."

"Now your fader is asleep, maid, listen unto me;
Will you follow in my trail to Ken-tuck-y?
For cross de Alleghany to-morrow I must go,
To chace the bounding deer on de O-hi-o.

"And will you lub me truly, and kind to me will be,
If I quit my fader's roof for Ken-tuck-y.

And will you nebber leave me, if I consent to go
To your shanty, by de stream of de O-hi-o?

"Her fader's not asleep, and he will not agree,
That you take away his dater to Ken-tuck-y.
So alone by yourself, good hunter, you must go,
Where the Ingin's rifle cracks on de O-hi-o.

"Your moder, too, is near, aldough you did not see;
And wid her leave you nebber go to Ken-tuck-y.
He hab a wife already, as I do surely know,
Who weeps for his return to de O-hi-o.

"Man, I have dis purse of gold, half of it for ye,
Woman, I hab ne'er a wife in Ken-tuck-y:
Your dater is my only lub, so pridee let us go
To where my corn is ripening on de O-hi-o.

"De fader weighed de purse, he took his half wid glee,
De moder said her child might go to Ken-tuck-y.

So de hunter and de maid, arm in arm dey go

Across de Alleghany to de O-hi-o."

Bravo, Billy, that's not so bad!" said some of the pensioners.

"I tell you, Dick, I take de shine out of you. You nebber believe, till I make you fall in my wake-and den you soon be where de little boat was-long way astarn."

"I'll tell you what, Billy," said Dick Harness; "you do improve, and we'll allow you to sing that song once more before you die, just by way of encouragement."

Dick then played several flourishes on his fiddle. Opposition Bill tried to imitate him, but made sad work of it. It was near dinner-time, and the pensioners rose, and proceeded to the Painted Hall; for at that time they dined there, and not below in the crypts, as they do now.

CHAPTER XVIII.

I GET INTO VERY DOUBTFUL COMPANY-I AM TEMPTED, AND, LIKE A TRUE SON OF ADAM, I FALL.

THE reader must have observed that, under the tuition of Anderson, I promised to follow the right path, and, provided his good offices were not interfered with, there appeared little doubt but that such would be the case; but I was little aware, nor was he, that the humble profession which I had chosen for myself was beset with danger, and that the majority of those with whom I was associating were the most likely of all others to lead me into evil. Why I had not hitherto been tempted can only be ascribed to my tender years. In fact, I had not been considered strong enough, or of an age, to be useful to them; but now that I was more than thirteen years old, being moreover very tall and strong for my age, the hour of temptation arrived; and fortunate was it for me that, previous to this epoch, I had been taken under the protection of Peter Anderson.

I have said, in a former chapter, that I was a regular mudlarker; so I was, as far as the ostensible occupation of those who are so denominated went, to wit; "picking up pieces of old rope, wood, &c.;" but the mudlarkers, properly speaking, at that time composed a very extensive body on the river, and were a more humble portion of the numerous river depredators, of which I may hereafter speak. A mudlarker was a man who had an old boat, generally sold by some merchant