.--I dare say this will seem very much
spun out to a seafarer, but landsmen like to hear of the sea and its ways;
and as more landsmen than seamen, probably, read the "Atlantic Monthly," I
have told them of one genuine sea-song, and its time and place.

Then there are pumping-songs. "The dismal sound of the pumps is heard,"
says Mr. Webster's Plymouth-Rock Oration; but being a part of the daily
morning duty of a well-disciplined merchant-vessel,--just a few minutes'
spell to keep the vessel free and cargo unharmed by bilge-water,--it is
not a dismal sound at all, but rather a lively one. It was a favorite
amusement with us passengers on board the ---- to go forward about
pumping-time to the break of the deck and listen. Any quick tune to which
you might work a fire-engine will serve for the music, and the words were
varied with every fancy. "Pay me the money down," was one favorite chorus,
and the verse ran thus:--

_Solo._ Your money, young man, is no object to me.

_Chorus._ Pay me the money down!

_Solo._ Half a crown's no great amount.

_Chorus._ Pay me the money down!

_Solo and Chorus. (Bis)_ Money down, money down, pay me the money down!

Not much sense in all this, but it served to man and move the brakes
merrily. Then there were other choruses, which were heard from time to
time,--"And the young gals goes a-weepin',"--"O long storm, storm along
stormy"; but the favorite tune was "Money down," at least with our crew.
They were not an avaricious set, either; for their parting ceremony, on
embarking, was to pitch the last half-dollars of their advance on to the
wharf, to be scrambled for by the land-sharks. But "Money down" was the
standing chorus. I once heard, though not on board that ship, the lively
chorus of "Off she goes, and off she must go,"--

"Highland day and off she goes,
Off she goes with a flying fore-topsail,
Highland day and off she goes."

It is one of the most spirited things imaginable, when well sung, and,
when applied to the topsail-halyards, brings the yards up in grand style.

These are some of the working-songs of the sea. They are not chosen for
their sense, but for their sound. They must contain good mouth-filling
words, with the vowels in the right place, and the rhythmic ictus at
proper distances for chest and hand to keep true time. And this is why the
seaman beats the wind in a trial of strength. The wind may whistle, but it
cannot sing. The sailor does not