t."

"No, that would not exactly tell; I shall pick my own work, and that's
where I can bring my tarry trousers to an anchor--mousing the mainstay,
or puddening the anchor, with the best of any. Dick, lend us a bit
of 'baccy."

Short pulled out his box without saying a word. Coble took a quid, and
Short thrust the box again into his pocket.

In the meantime the waltz continued, and being a favourite dance, there
were about fifty couples going round and round the room. Such was the
variety in the dress, country, language, and appearance of the parties
collected, that you might have imagined it a masquerade. It was,
however, getting late, and Frau Vandersloosh had received the intimation
of the people of the police who superintend these resorts, that it was
the time for shutting up; so that, although the widow was sorry on her
own account to disperse so merry and so thirsty a party as they were now
becoming, so soon as the waltz was ended the musicians packed up their
instruments and departed.

This was a signal for many, but by no means for all, to depart; for
music being over, and the house doors closed, a few who remained,
provided they made no disturbance, were not interfered with by the
police. Among those who stayed were the party from the _Yungfrau_, one
or two American, and some Prussian sailors. Having closed up together,

"Come," cried Jemmy, "now that we are quiet again, let's have another
song; and who is it to be--Dick Short?"

"Short, my boy, come, you must sing."

"No," replied Short.

"Yes, yes--one verse," said Spurey.

"He never sings more," replied Jemmy Ducks, "so he must give us that.
Come, Short."

"Yes," replied Short, taking the pipe out of his mouth, and wetting his
lips with the grog.

_Short_ stay apeak was the anchor,
We had but a _short_ minute more,
In _short_, I no longer could banker,
For _short_ was the cash in my store.
I gave one _short_ look,
As Poll heaved a _short_ sigh
One _short_ hug I took,
_Short_ the matter cut I,
And off I went to sea.

"Go on, Dick."

"No," replied Short, resuming his pipe.

"Well, then, chorus, my boys."

Very good song, and very well sung,
Jolly companions every one;
We all are here for mirth and glee,
We all are here for jollity.
Very good song, and very well sung,
Jolly companions every one;
Put your hats on, and keep your heads warm,
A lit