the limited supply of grog, which might indeed cheer,
but could not by any possibility inebriate, the men endeavoured to shake
off their fatigue, and to forget, if possible, the rolling of the
vessel.

The first effort was not difficult, but the second was not easy. At
first, however, the gale was not severe, so they fought against
circumstances bravely for a time.

"Come, lads," cried the smith, in a species of serio-comic desperation,
when they had all assembled below, "let's drink to sweethearts and
wives."

"Hear, hear! Bless their hearts! Sweethearts and wives!" responded the
men. "Hip, hip!"

The cheer that followed was a genuine one.

"Now for a song, boys," cried one of the men, "and I think the last
arrivals are bound to sing first."

"Hear, hear! Ruby, lad, you're in for it," said the smith, who sat near
his assistant.

"What shall I sing?" enquired Ruby.

"Oh! let me see," said Joe Dumsby, assuming the air of one who
endeavoured to recall something. "Could you come Beet'oven's symphony
on B flat?"

"Ah! howld yer tongue, Joe," cried O'Connor, "sure the young man can
only sing on the sharp kays; ain't he always sharpin' the tools, not to
speak of his appetite?"

"You've a blunt way of speaking yourself, friend," said Dumsby, in a
tone of reproof.

"Hallo! stop your jokes," cried the smith; "if you treat us to any more
o' that sort o' thing we'll have ye dipped over the side, and hung up to
dry at the end o' the mainyard. Fire away, Ruby, my tulip!"

"Ay, that's hit," said John Watt. "Gie us the girl ye left behind ye."

Ruby flushed suddenly, and turned towards the speaker with a look of
surprise.

"What's wrang, freend? Hae ye never heard o' that sang?" enquired Watt.

"O yes, I forgot," said Ruby, recovering himself in some confusion. "I
know the song--I--I was thinking of something--of--"

"The girl ye left behind ye, av coorse," put in O'Connor, with a wink.

"Come, strike up!" cried the men.

Ruby at once obeyed, and sang the desired song with a sweet, full voice,
that had the effect of moistening some of the eyes present.

The song was received enthusiastically.

"Your health and song, lads" said Robert Selkirk, the principal builder,
who came down the ladder and joined them at that moment.

"Thank you, now it's my call," said Ruby. "I call upon Ned O'Connor for
a song."

"Or a speech," cried Forsyth.

"A spaitch is it?" said O'Connor, with a look of deep modest