sh
with the strong brogue and peculiar phraseology of the sister kingdom
dashed with a little Yankeeism.

Having been told that there was no slavery in England, Mesty had
concealed himself on board an English merchant vessel, and escaped. On
his arrival in England he had entered on board of a man-of-war. Having
no name, it was necessary to christen him on the ship's books, and the
first lieutenant, who had entered him, struck with his remarkable
expression of countenance, and being a German scholar, had named him
Mephistopheles Faust, from whence his Christian name had been razeed to
Mesty. Mesty in other points was an eccentric character; at one moment,
when he remembered his lineage, he was proud to excess, at others he was
grave and almost sullen--but when nothing either in daily occurrences or
in his mind ran contrary, he exhibited the drollery so often found in
his nation, with a spice of Irish humour, as if he had caught up the
latter with his Irish brogue.

Mesty was soon seen coming aft, but almost double as he couched under
the beams, and taking large strides with his naked feet.

"By the powers, Massa Yolliffe, but it is not seasonable at all to send
for me just now, anyhow, seeing how the praters are in the copper, and
so many blackguard 'palpeens all ready to change net for net, and better
themselves by the same mistake, `dam um.'"

"Mesty, you know I never send for you myself, or allow others to do so,
unless it is necessary," replied Jolliffe; "but this poor lad has eaten
nothing since he has been on board, and is very hungry--you must get him
a little tea."

"Is it tay you mane, sir?--I guess, to make tay, in the first place I
must ab water, and in the next must ab room in the galley to put the
kettle on--and 'pose you wanted to burn the tip of your little finger
just now, it's not in the galley that you find a berth for it--and den
the water before seven bells. I've a notion it's just impassible."

"But he must have something, Mesty."

"Never mind the tea, then," replied Jack, "I'll take some milk."

"Is it milk massa manes, and the bumboat woman on the oder side of the
bay?"

"We have no milk, Mr Easy; you forget that we are on blue water,"
replied Jolliffe, "and I really am afraid that you'll have to wait till
dinner-time. Mesty tells the truth."

"I tell you what, Massa Yolliffe, it just seven bells, and if the young
gentleman would, instead of tay, try a little out of the copper, it