" courtesying to O'Brien.

"What do you charge in this place?"

"All the same price, one bit a piece."

"What do you call a bit?" inquired I.

"A bit, lilly massa?--what you call um _bit_? Dem four _sharp shins _to
a pictareen."

Our deck was now enlivened by several army officers, besides gentlemen
residents, who came off to hear the news. Invitations to the mess and to
the houses of the gentlemen followed, and as they departed Mr Falcon
returned on board. He told O'Brien and the other officers, that the
admiral and squadron were expected in a few days, and that we were to
remain in Carlisle Bay and refit immediately. But although the fright
about the yellow fever had considerably subsided in our breasts, the
remembrance that our poor captain was lying dead in the cabin was
constantly obtruding. All that night the carpenters were up making up
his coffin, for he was to be buried the next day. The body is never
allowed to remain many hours unburied in the tropical climates, where
putrefaction is so rapid. The following morning the men were up at
daylight, washing the decks and putting the ship in order; they worked
willingly, and yet with a silent decorum which showed what their
feelings were. Never were the decks better cleaned, never were the ropes
more carefully _flemished_ down; the hammocks were stowed in their white
cloths, the yards carefully squared, and the ropes hauled taut. At eight
o'clock, the colours and pennant were hoisted half-mast high. The men
were then ordered down to breakfast, and to clean themselves. During the
time that the men were at breakfast, all the officers went into the
cabin to take a last farewell look at our gallant captain. He appeared
to have died without pain, and there was a beautiful tranquillity in his
face; but even already a change had taken place, and we perceived the
necessity of his being buried so soon. We saw him placed in his coffin,
and then quitted the cabin without speaking to each other. When the
coffin was nailed down, it was brought up by the barge's crew to the
quarter-deck, and laid upon the gratings amidships, covered over with
the Union Jack. The men came up from below without waiting for the pipe,
and a solemnity appeared to pervade every motion. Order and quiet were
universal, out of respect to the deceased. When the boats were ordered
to be manned, the men almost appeared to steal into them. The barge
received the coffin, which was placed in the stern shee