“He always liked to be at sea,

For e'en on shore, the rover,
If not as drunk as he could be,

Was always • half seas over.'
“The gunner, who was apt to scoff,

With jokes most aptly timed,
Said, Sam might any day go off,

'Cause he was always ‘primed.'
Sam didn't want a feeling heart,

Though never seen to cry,
Yet tears were always on the start,

*The drop was in his eye.
“At fighting, Sam was never shy,

A most undoubted merit;
His courage never failed, and why-

He was so full of spirit.'
"In action he had lost an eye,

But that gave him no trouble,-
Quoth Sam, 'I bave no cause to sigh,

I'm always seeing double.'
" A shot from an unlucky gun

Put Sam on timber pegs;
It didn't signify to one

Who ne'er could keep bis legs.'
“ One night be filled a pail with grog,

Determined he would suck it;
He drained it dry,—the thirsty dog!

Hiccupped-and • kicked the bucket.'”

I

“ There's Bill's fiddle, Dick," said I, getting up; thought you would bring him out.”

“Yes, I was of that: I'll sing another verse or two, and then be off to the Park, and leave him in the lurch.”

|

“I can't wait any more, Dick; I must go to my father," said I.

“Well, off with you then, and I'm off too. Sing tura la, tura la, tura lura la. Bill's coming down. How savage the nigger will be !"

MERCETTO

OF NEW YORK

CHAPTER XXXI.

IN WHICH MY FATHER PROVES HE CAN GIVE GOOD ADVICE AS WELL

AS PETER ANDERSON.

I FOUND my father under the colonnade, and inquired of him if Anderson was there.

“ No, he's not,” replied my father; "he has been sent for by the officers; so stop, Tom, that is, if you can spare a minute for your own father.”

“Of course I can,” replied I, taking my scat by him.

“Why, you sce, boy,” said my father, “I have but very little of your company; and I feel it, Tom, I do indeed. I'm not jealous, and I know that Peter Anderson has done more for you than ever I could, for I've no larning to signify; but still, Tom, I am your father, and I don't think Peter, although he may be proud of your turning out so well, can feel exactly for you what a father does.

I'm proud enough of you, Heaven knows; and it does hurt me a little when I find that, whenever you come here, it is for Peter Anderson, and it makes me wish sometimes that I had been Peter Anderson instead of

father.” « Indeed, father," replied I, "I hope you don't think that I like Anderson better than I do you; but you

recollect that I have been accustomed all my life to take his advice.”

“I know it, boy, I know it. I was serving my country, and doing my duty on board of a king's ship, and you were left here, and therefore lucky it was that you fell in with old Peter; but, Tom, I could not be in two places at the same time, anl if I did not do my duty as a father towards you, at all events I was doing my duty to my country.'

“To be sure you were, and it was of more importance than looking after a brat like me," replied I, soothingly; for I really never had the idea that my father could have showed so much feeling.

“Why, Tom, I can't say that I thought so; for the fact is, I didn't think about it ; indeed, I thought about nothing. Sailors afloat have little time to think: they can't think when it's their watch on deck, for they are too busy ; nor at their watch below, for they're too tired; nor at meal times, for they must look after their share of the victuals; indeed, there is not any time to think on board ship, and that's a fact. But, Tom, since I've been laid up here I have thought a good deal; all is calm and quict, and one day passes just like the other, and no fear of interruption when one don't wish it; and I have thought a good deal. At first I thought it a hard casc to be shoved on the shelf at iny age; but I don't think so now; I'm quite satisfied.”

“I'm glad to hear you say so, father.”

“ Yes, Tom; and then, you sce, when I was afloat, I didn't think any good of your mother, and I was glad to keep out of her way; and then I didn't care about