You see we was in the little
Tollymakus frigate, cruising off the banks o' Newf'land, when we fell in
with a saucy Yankee, twice the size of our craft; but, bless your honour,
that never makes no odds to British sailors, and so we sarved her out with
hot dumpling till she got enough, and forced her to haul down her stripes
to the flag of Old England. But somehow, your honour, I caught a chance
ball that threw me on my beam-ends, and left me to sing--
"My name d'ye see's Tom Tough,
And I've seen a little sarvice,
Where the mighty billows roll and loud tempests blow,
I've sail'd with noble Howe,
And I've fought with gallant Jarvis,
And in gallant Duncan's fleet I've sung--yo-heave-oh!"
"A sixpence or a shilling rewards Jack's loyalty and eloquence. A violent
tossing of Polly and the ship testify his gratitude; and pocketing the
coin he has collected, he puts about, and shapes his course for some other
port, singing lustily as he goes--
"Rule Britannia! Britannia rules the waves!"
Farewell, POOR JACK!
* * * * *
THOSE DIVING BELLES! THOSE DIVING BELLES!
Some of our contemporaries have been dreadfully scandalised at the
indelicate scenes which take place on the sands at Ramsgate, where, it
seems, a sort of joint-stock social bathing company has been formed by the
duckers and divers of both sexes.
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