e his mind off the disappointment, Coristine asked Ben
if he could sing and paddle too. He guessed he could, as paddling wasn't
taking his breath away any. So Ben was pressed to sing, and at once
assumed a lugubrious air, that reminded the lawyer of The Crew. The song
was about a dying youth, who is asked what he will give in legacy to his
mother, his sister, and various other relatives. He is liberal to all,
till his lady-love's name is mentioned, and, for some unknown reason,
excites his indignation. The tune was not the same as The Crew's
copyright.

"What will you give your sweetheart, my comfort and my joy?
What will you give your sweetheart, my darling boy?"
"Oh! a gallows to hang on!
Mother, make my bed soft;
I've a pain in my chest;
I want to lay down."

The last line was sung in a very solemn and affecting monotone.
Coristine had to pretend to be deeply moved, to turn round facing the
Captain, and chew first his moustache and then half of his pocket
handkerchief. "Eh, Ben," said the graver minister, "I'm afraid that was
no' a very Christian spirit to die in."

"No, your raiverence," replied the singer, "but ef I hadn't a knowed it
was old man Newcome as took Serlizer away, I'd be cant-hooked and
pike-poled ef I wouldn't ha' sung jest them words, that's ef I had a
paiun in my chaist and wanted to lay down." When they reached the third
lake, through a channel similar to the last, the Captain said sternly:
"I'm in command of this vessel, and expect orders to be obeyed. No more
singin' nor laughin' out nor loud talkin'. Doctor says it's as much as
life's worth to go beyond it. You've heerd orders; now mind 'em."
Everything was silent, save the soft dip of the paddles in the water;
the quiet was painfully oppressive. Ugly thoughts of bad men mingled
with a sense of the natural beauty of the scene. Toner in the bow
silently pointed to a square artificial-looking white object at the
entrance to the next channel, which was the limit of the voyage. At
last the punt came up to it, and its occupants found the channel barred
by a heavy grating, that passed down into the water. Above it was a
notice in the usual form, indicating the prosecution of trespassers, and
signed by order of the proprietor, Miss Du Plessis, with the name of
John Carruthers, J.P. "The villain!" ejaculated Mr. Errol. "John has
neither been