The Pirate Story Megapack. R.M. Ballantyne

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      The exercise was a pleasant one, and in order to cheer their spirits, they burst forth into songs. One was volunteered by Tom.

      What vessel are you gliding in?

      \Pray tell to me its name;

      Our vessel is the Antelope,

      And Corbet is my name,

      And Corbet is my name,

      And Corbet is my name;

      Our vessel is the Antelope,

      And Corbet is my name.

      At this Captain Corbet’s venerable face was all suffused with sudden smiles.

      “Why railly,” said he, “railly now, dew tell. Why, ef you ain’t ben an done it agin. Only think, more himes about me. Why, it doos beat all. How upon airth dew you ever manage to fix em up that way? It doos—beat—my—grandmother!”

      Other songs followed, till almost everything was made use of that they had ever heard—the Canadian Boat Song, the Maltese Boat Song, and others of a kindred character, including “Hail to the Chief,” and “March! March! Ettrick, and Teviotdale.” In this way the time was beguiled, and their toil at the long sweeps lightened.

      Around them the whole scene glowed in the moonlight. The silver islands set in silver seas, clothed in soft lustre, lay reflected in the smooth water. Overhead the moon hung in a cloudless sky, and lightened up all things with its soft and mellow radiance. They could see also by the change in their position, which they noticed from time to time, that they were actually making some progress with their sweeps, and the discovery, when it was made, encouraged them not a little.

      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 tomorrow 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 tonight. 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.

      “And I,” said Arthur.

      “Anything’s better than this,” said Phil; “so I agree to the boat.”

      With this agreement they all turned to the boat, and got in. A few brief directions were given by Turnbull, and the boys pulled away. First Bruce and Arthur pulled, then Tom and Phil. Taking turns in this way, they had the satisfaction of seeing themselves making good progress, and at length reached the wharf at Chester.

      It was about three o’clock in the morning. They knocked up the people at the inn, and hurried up to their rooms. They were so utterly worn out, and so sleepy, that they did not think of asking about Bart and Pat, but tumbled into bed, and in a few moments were all sound asleep.

      THE TREASURE OF THE SEAS, by James De Mille (Part 2)

      CHAPTER XIV.

      There, side by side, stood the two boys, at the bottom of that deep pit, into which they had descended; and, standing there, they looked with unutterable feelings at the opening far above them, across which was suspended the treacherous beam. At first there was a thrill of expectation, in both of them, that the СКАЧАТЬ