sed that we should go
on shore and walk. "Ah! do my lads, do--it will do you good, Jacob; no
use moping here a whole tide. I'll take care of the 'barkey. Mind you
make the boat well fast, and take the sculls into the public-house
there. I'll have the supper under weigh when you come back, and then
we'll have a night on't. It's a poor heart that never rejoices; and,
Tom, take a bottle on shore, get it filled, and bring it off with you.
Here's the money. But I say, Tom, honour bright."

"Honour bright, father;" and to do Tom justice, he always kept his
promise, especially after the word had passed of "honour bright." Had
there been gallons of spirits under his charge he would not have tasted
a drop after that pledge.

"Haul up the boat, Jacob, quick," said Tom, as his father went into the
cabin to fetch an empty bottle. Tom hastened down below forward and
brought up an old gun, which he put under the stern sheets before his
father came out on the deck. We then received the bottle from him, and
Tom called out for the dog Tommy.

"Why, you're not going to take the dog. What's the use of that? I want
him here to keep watch with me," said old Tom.

"Pooh! father; why can't you let the poor devil have a run on shore? He
wants to eat grass, I am sure, for I watched him this day or two. We
shall be back before dark."

"Well, well, just as you please, Tom." Tommy jumped into the boat, and
away we went.

"And now, Tom, what are you after?" said I, as soon as we were ten yards
from the lighter.

"A'ter, Jacob, going to have a little shooting on Wimbledon Common; but
father can't bear to see a gun in my hand, because I once shot my old
mother. I did pepper her, sure enough; her old flannel petticoat was
full of shot, but it was so thick that it saved her. Are you anything
of a shot?"

"Never fired a gun in my life."

"Well, then, we'll fire in turns, and toss up, if you like, for first
shot."

We landed, carried the sculls up to the public-house, and left the
bottle to be filled, and then, with Tommy bounding before us, and
throwing about his bushy tail with delight, ascended Putney Hill, and
arrived at the Green Man public-house, at the corner of Wimbledon
Common. "I wonder where green men are to be found?" observed Tom,
laughing; "I suppose they live in the same country with the _blue_ dogs
my father speaks about sometimes. Now, then, its time to load."

The bowl of a tobacco pipe, full of powder,