stle burr. It was a
pitman's song, with a refrain something like this--

_Ho thy way_,[1] my bonnie bairn,
_Ho thy way_, upon my airm,
_Ho thy way_, thou still may learn
To say Dada sae bonnie.

It was very clear that Sal was proud of her performance; and she had a
good right to be, for she had caught the guttural accent to perfection.
For the rest it was an instructive song to be sung as a lullaby to a
child; for this was what Nan more or less made out amid the various
experiments and repetitions:--

Oh, Johnnie is a clever lad;
Last neet he fuddled all he had;
This morn he wasna very bad;
He looked the best of ony!

When Johnnie's drunk he'll tak a knife,
And threaten sair to hae my life:
Wha wadna be a pitman's wife,
To hae a lad like Johnnie!

Yonder's Johnnie coming noo;
He looks the best of a' the crew!
They've all gone to the barley moo,
To hae a glass wi' Johnny.

So let's go get the bacon fried,
And let us mak a clean fireside,
And when he comes he will thee ride
Upon his knee sae cannie.

_Ho thy way_, my bonnie bairn,
_Ho thy way_, upon my airm,
_Ho thy way_, thou still may learn
To say Dada sae bonnie!

But this was likely to go on for ever; so Nan quietly stepped round to
the door of the hut, where she found Singing Sal sitting on the little
cross bench, entirely occupied with her guitar and the new song. When
she looked up, on finding the door darkened, she did not scream; her
nerves were not excitable.

'Oh, dear me, is it you, Miss?' she said. 'No wonder I did not hear
ye; for I was making enough noise myself. I hope you are very well,
Miss; it is many a day since I have seen you on the downs.'

'I have been living in Lewes for some time,' said Nan. 'I have been
listening to the song you were singing. That is not the kind of song
that sailors like, is it?'

So they had begun about sailors again; and the good genius Ormuzd was
clean forgotten.

[1] A corruption, I am told, of 'haud thy way'--'hold on thy way.' The
song is a common one in the North of England.

CHAPTER XIV.

AT HOME.

All that night, as Frank King had feared, a heavy gale from the
south-west raged furiously; the wind shaking the houses with violent
gusts; the sea thundering along the beach. But in the morning, when
Brighton awoke, it found that the worst of the storm had passed over,
leaving only a disturbed and dangerous look about