osition Bill were picked up from every part of the world,
principally, however, those sung by the negroes who worked on the
plantations in Virginia and Carolina.

Peter Anderson, my father, Ben, and many others were sitting on the
benches, basking in the morning's sun, when Dick Harness made his
appearance, limping along with his fiddle under his arm.

"Come along, Dick," said Ben the Whaler, "we'll stow close, and make
room for you here."

"You must make elbow-room, too, my hearty, or I shan't be able to
fiddle. Come, what will you have this fine morning?" said Harness,
tuning his instrument. As soon as it was in tune he flourished a prelude
from the top of the scale to the bottom, ending with an "Eh-haw!
eh-haw!" in imitation of the braying of a donkey.

"Give us the Spanish Ladies, Dick," said my father. As this song was
very popular at that time among the seamen, and is now almost forgotten,
I shall by inserting it here for a short time rescue it from oblivion.

"Farewell and adieu to you, Spanish ladies,
Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain;
For we have received orders
For to sail to old England,
But we hope in a short time to see you again."

"Stop a moment, lads. I must screw him up a little more."

Dick regulated his first string, and then continued.

"We'll rant and we'll roar, like true British sailors,
We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas;
Until we strike soundings
In the Channel of old England
(From Ushant to Scilly 'tis thirty-five leagues).

"Then we hove our ship to, with the wind at sou'west,
my boys,
Then we hove our ship to, for to strike soundings clear;
Then we filled the maintopsail
And bore right away, my boys,
And straight up the Channel of old England did steer.

"So the first land we made, it is called the Deadman,
Next Ram Head, off Plymouth, Start, Portland, and
the Wight;
We sail-ed by Beachy,
By Fairly and Dungeness,
And then bore away for the South Foreland light.

"Now the signal it was made for the grand fleet to
anchor,
All in the Downs that night for to meet;
Then stand by your stoppers,
See clear your shank painters,
Haul all your clew garnets, stick out tacks and sheets."

Here Dick was interrupted by another fiddle, which went "turn,
turn--scrape--turn, turn."

"There's Opp