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ts were far away. Some were with old Cullerne whalers, with the harpoon and the ice-floe; some dreamt of square-stemmed timber-brigs, of the Baltic and the white Memel-logs, of wild nights at sea and wilder nights ashore; and some, remembering violet skies and moonlight through the mango-groves, looked on the Creole woman, and tried to recall in her faded features, sweet, swart faces that had kindled youthful fires a generation since. "Then the grog, boys--the grog, boys, bring hither," sang the Creole. "Fill it up true to the brim. May the mem'ry of Nelson ne'er wither Nor the star of his glory grow dim." There were rummers standing on the tables, and now and then a drinking-brother would break the sugar-knobs in his liquor with a glass stirrer, or take a deep draught of the brown jorum that steamed before him. No one spoke to Mr Sharnall; only the landlord, without asking what he would take, set before him a glass filled with the same hot spirit as the other guests were drinking. The organist accepted his fate with less reluctance than he ought perhaps to have displayed, and a few minutes later was drinking and smoking with the rest. He found the liquor to his liking, and soon experienced the restoring influences of the warm room and of the spirit. He hung his coat up on a peg, and in its dripping condition, and in the wet which had penetrated to his skin, found ample justification for accepting without demur a second bumper with which the landlord replaced his empty glass. Rummer followed rummer, and still the Creole woman sang at intervals, and still the company smoked and drank. Mr Sharnall drank too, but by-and-by saw things less clearly, as the room grew hotter and more clouded with tobacco-smoke. Then he found the Creole woman standing before him, and holding out a shell for contributions. He had in his pocket only one single coin--a half-crown that was meant to be a fortnight's pocket-money; but he was excited, and had no hesitation. "There," he said, with an air of one who gives a kingdom--"there, take that: you deserve it; but sing me a song that I heard you sing once before, something about the rolling sea." She nodded that she understood, and after the collection was finished, gave the money to the blind man, and bade him play for her. It was a long ballad, with many verses and a refrain of: "Oh, take me back to those I love, Or bring them here to me; I have no h
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