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 have 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 his legs.'

"One night he filled a pail with grog,
Determined he would suck it:
He drained it dry, the thirsty dog!
Hiccupped, and `kicked the bucket.'"

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

"Yes, I was sure 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 ha, tura ha, tura lura
ha. Bill's coming down. How savage the nigger will be!"

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

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 seat by him.

"Why, you see, 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 your father."

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