r he has scored.
What say you, Chief Mate? It won't do to be floored,
_Don't_ you think we had best take a pilot aboard,
In spite of piratical scoffing?

II.--ON SHORE.

There's a smart Cockney Tar with his glass to his eye,
_Sing hey, sing ho, and a Brummagem salt!_
And what does the trim longshore yachtsman descry?
_Ho! he's spying like Robinson Crusoe!_
The Pilot in pose imperturbable stands,
With slouching Sou'wester and pocketed hands,
But his eye's on the Yacht and he quite understands,
The fix of the Skipper--poor chap!--who commands,
Or at least is imagined to do so.

"Hillo!" cries the Cockney; "they're signalling now,
_Sing hey, sing ho, and a flag to the peak!_
If the Yacht runs aground, Mate, there will be a row.
_Ho! the Pilot is peacefully winking._
I've an interest in her myself; can't afford
She should seek Davy Jones, not at least till _I've_ scored.
How is it, my HARTY--beg pardon!--my Lord!
They signal a pilot; shall you go aboard
To save 'em from striking or sinking?"

[_Left considering._

[Illustration: DIFFICULT NAVIGATION.

(_FOG COMING ON._)

CH-MB-RL-N. "I SAY, MY HARTY, GOVERNMENT YACHT SIGNALLING FOR A PILOT!!
ARE YOU GOING ABOARD?"]

* * * * *

THE SAILOR'S SLIP.

(AIR--"_The Sailor's Journal._")

SPITHEAD, SATURDAY, JULY 23RD, 1887.

_Lord Ch-rl-s B-r-sf-rd sings_:--

[Illustration]

'TWAS when the Great Review was o'er,
To signal Lady C. I started.
Oh, etiquette's a horrid bore!
I erred, and hence am broken-hearted.
The whole huge Fleet the signal read--
Confound that thoughtless act of folly!
What could I do but bow my head,
And bid a long (?) adieu to SOLLY?

I hear my name's on every tongue
As a true Sailor, brisk and cheery;
That like a breeze my voice has rung,
And waked the Commons, dull and weary.
I'm little now to mirth inclined,
I'm not, as usual, gay and jolly,
But care I'll whistle down the wind,
And try to make it square with SOLLY.

You see 'twas getting on for night,
And true-bred tars, e'en midst carouses,
Think with considerate delight
About their sweethearts or their spouses.
Up went my signal, frank and free,
(A breach of rule most melancholy)
To "give the tip" to Lady C.,
And now I have to part with SOLLY.

"Tell Lady CHARLES to go on board