ailors--every
one of whom he knew and called by his first name--they seldom failed
to strip his pockets of the last shilling. He was generous to a fault
and faithful to his friends. His time, his purse, his influence were
always at the call of those who had served under him. A typical
sea-dog: a brave fighter,--

Then, why not give three times three for John Paul Jones?

Are you ready?

THE ESCAPE

'Tis of a gallant, Yankee ship that flew the Stripes and Stars,
And the whistling wind from the west-nor'-west blew through her
pitch-pine spars:
With her starboard tacks aboard, my Boys, she hung upon the gale;
On the Autumn night, that we passed the light, on the old Head of
Kinsale.

It was a clear and cloudless eve, and the wind blew steady and
strong,
As gayly, o'er the sparkling deep, our good ship bowled along;
With the foaming seas beneath her bow, the fiery waves she spread,
And, bending low her bosom of snow, she buried her lee cat-head.

There was no talk of short'ning sail, by him who walked the poop,
And, under the press of her pounding jib, the boom bent like a hoop!
And the groaning, moaning water-ways, told the strain that held the
tack,
But, he only laughed, as he glanced aloft, at the white and silvery
track.

The mid-tide met in the Channel waves that flow from shore to shore,
And the mist hung heavy upon the land, from Featherstone to Dunmore,
And that sterling light in Tusker Rock, where the old bell tolls
each hour,
And the beacon light, that shone so bright, was quenched on Waterford
tower.

What looms upon our starboard bow? What hangs upon the breeze?
'Tis time that our good ship hauled her wind, abreast the old
Saltees,
For, by her pond'rous press of sail, and by her consorts four,
We saw that our morning visitor, was a British Man-of-War.

Up spoke our noble Captain--then--as a shot ahead of us passed,--
"Haul snug your flowing courses! Lay your topsail to the mast!"
Those Englishmen gave three loud cheers, from the deck of their
covered ark,
And, we answered back by a solid broad-side, from the side of our
patriot barque.

"_Out booms! Out booms!_" our skipper cried, "_Out booms! and give
her sheet!_"
And the swiftest keel that e'er was launched, shot ahead of the
British fle