THE CAST-AWAY. 137 



So Jack Burkett took up his song again, sitting 

 astride the canoe's bows in that abandoned boat- 

 house, the light from a single lantern streaming 

 warm and yellow in his hard face while he 

 sang, — 



" As beautiful Nancy was walkin' one dy, 



She met a young sylor, all hon the 'igh-wy, 

 'E stept up beside her," — 



" Avast ! Avast ! " bawled Mattapoisett Joe, 

 ci Avast ! you boozy lime-juicer, you've sung 

 that verse a 'ready. You're half-seas over, lad. 

 You 're drunk as old Weatherface." 



" 'Old on, ye bloody Yank ! Hif ye don't like 

 me bloody chanty, then just ye sing us a bloody 

 chanty as ye do like." 



" The bottle," said Mattapoisett Joe, with a 

 bland smile. " Will my brave friend Weatherface 

 kindly pass me the bottle ? First I'll splice the 

 main-brace, and then I'll sing, as requested. 

 Come, my bullies, we '11 all drink together ! Fill 

 up your glasses — how 's this for a toast ? — 



' Be cheery, my lads ! May your hearts never fail, 

 While the bold harpooneer is a-striking the whale !* 



There, clink your glasses ! — now shoot the 

 sun!" 



