for their winter supply of clothes
had failed, through some lapse of the department. But Nettlebones
marched up, and collared Captain Brown, and said, "You are my prisoner,
sir. Surrender, Robin Lyth, this moment." Brown made no resistance, but
respectfully touched his hat, and thought.

"I were trying to call upon my memory," he said, as the revenue officer
led him aside, and promised him that he should get off easily if he
would only give up his chief. "I am not going to deny, your honor, that
I have heard tell of that name 'Robin Lyth.' But my memory never do come
in a moment. Now were he a man in the contraband line?"

"Brown, you want to provoke me. It will only be ten times worse for you.
Now give him up like an honest fellow, and I will do my best for you. I
might even let a few tubs slip by."

"Sir, I am a stranger round these parts; and the lingo is beyond me.
Tubs is a bucket as the women use for washing. Never I heared of any
other sort of tubs. But my mate he knoweth more of Yorkshire talk. Jack,
here his honor is a-speaking about tubs; ever you hear of tubs, Jack?"

"Make the villain fast to yonder mooring-post," shouted Nettlebones,
losing his temper; "and one of you stand by him, with a hanger ready.
Now, Master Brown, we'll see what tubs are, if you please; and what sort
of rags you land at night. One chance more for you--will you give up
Robin Lyth?"

"Yes, sir, that I will, without two thoughts about 'un. Only too happy,
as the young women say, to give 'un up, quick stick--so soon as ever I
ha' got 'un."

"If ever there was a contumacious rogue! Roll up a couple of those
puncheons, Mr. Avery; and now light half a dozen links. Have you got
your spigot-heels--and rummers? Very good; Lieutenant Donovan, Mr.
Avery, and Senior Volunteer Brett, oblige me by standing by to verify.
Gentlemen, we will endeavor to hold what is judicially called an
assay--a proof of the purity of substances. The brand on these casks
is of the very highest order--the renowned Mynheer Van Dunck himself.
Donovan, you shall be our foreman; I have heard you say that you
understood ardent spirits from your birth."

"Faix, and I quite forget, commander, whether I was weaned on or off of
them. But the foine judge me father was come down till me--honey, don't
be narvous; slope it well, then--a little thick, is it? All the
richer for that same, me boy. Commander, here's the good health of his
Majesty--Oh Lord!"

Mr. Corkoran Don