rincipally, however, those sung by the negroes who worked on the
plantations in Virginia and Carolina.

Peter Anderson, my father, Ben, and many others, were sitting on the
benches, basking in the morning's sun, when Dick Harness made his
appearance, limping along with his fiddle under his arm.

"Come along, Dick," said Ben the Whaler, "we'll stow close, and make
room for you here."

"You must make elbow-room too, my hearty, or I shan't be able to fiddle.
Come, what will you have this fine morning?" said Harness, tuning his
instrument. As soon as it was in tune he flourished a prelude from the
top of the scale to the bottom, ending with an "Eh-haw! eh-haw!" in
imitation of the braying of a donkey.

"Give us the Spanish Ladies, Dick," said my father. As this song was
very popular at that time among the seamen, and is now almost forgotten,
I shall by inserting it here for a short time rescue it from oblivion.

"Farewell and adieu to you, Spanish ladies,
Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain;
For we have received orders
For to sail to old England,
But we hope in a short time to see you again."

"Stop a moment, lads. I must screw him up a little more."

Dick regulated his first string, and then continued.

"We'll rant and we'll roar, like true British sailors,
We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas;
Until we strike soundings
In the Channel of old England.
From Ushant to Scilly 'tis thirty-five leagues.

"Then we hove our ship to, with the wind at sou'west, my boys,
Then we hove our ship to, for to strike soundings clear;
Then we filled the main topsail
And bore right away, my boys,
And straight up the Channel of old England did steer.

"So the first land we made, it is called the Deadman,
Next Ram Head, off Plymouth, Start, Portland, and the Wight;
We sail-ed by Beachy,
By Fairly and Dungeness,
And then bore away for the South Forehand light.

"Now the signal it was made for the grand fleet to anchor,
All in the Downs that night for to meet;
Then stand by your stoppers,
See clear your shank painters,
Hawl all your clew garnets, stick out tacks and sheets."

Here Dick was interrupted by another fiddle, which went "tum, tum--
scrape--tum, tum."

"There's Opposition Bill, Dick," said my father; "I thought you would
bring him out."

"All's right," replied Dick; "hope he aren't affronted; but he looks
very black this morning."

"Now let