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When the churls were eased, their bags well squeezed, we gave them our blessing full fain,

And we kiss'd our girls with the glossy curls, the dark-eyed girls of Spain; Our booty we shared, and we all prepared for the way we had to roam, When there rose a dispute as to taking our route by land or by water home. So one half of the band chose to travel by land, the other to travel by sea: Old Morgan's voice gave the sea the choice, and I follow'd his fortunes free, And hasten'd our leaving old Panama,

We, the mighty Buccaneers!

A bark we equipp'd, and our gold we shipp'd, and gat us ready for sea;
Seventy men, and a score and ten, mariners bold were we.

Our mates had took leave, on the yester-eve, their way o'er the hills to find,
When, as morning's light pierced through the night, we shook her sails to the

wind.

With a fresh'ning breeze we walked the seas, and the land sunk low and lower;
A dreary dread o'er our hearts there sped we never should see land more—
And away we departed from Panama,

We, the mighty Buccaneers!

For a day or two we were busy enow in setting ourselves to rights,

In fixing each berth, our mess, and so forth, and the day's watch and the night's;
But when these were done, over every one came the lack of aught to do,
We listless talk'd, we listless walk'd, and we pined for excitement new.
Oh! how we did hail any shift in the gale, for it gave us a sail to trim !
We began to repent that we had not bent our steps with our comrades grim.
And thus we sail'd on from old Panama,

We, the mighty Buccaneers!

Day after day we had stagger'd away, with a steady breeze abeam;
No shift in the gale; no trimming a sail; how dull we were, ye may deem!
We sung old songs till we wearied our lungs; we pushed the flagon about ;
And told and re-told tales ever so old, till they fairly tired us out.
There was a shark in the wake of our bark took us three days to hook ;
And when it was caught we wished it was not, for we missed the trouble it took.
And thus we sail'd on from old Panama,

We, the mighty Buccaneers!

At last it befell, some tempter of hell put gambling in some one's head;
The devil's device, the cards and the dice, broke the stagnant life we led:
From morn till night, ay, till next morn's light, we plied the bones right well;
Day after day the rattle of play clatter'd thorough the caravel.

How the winners laugh'd, how the losers quaff'd! 't was a madness, as it were.
It was a thing of shuddering to hark to the losers' swear.

And thus we sail'd on from old Panama,

We, the mighty Buccaneers!

From morn till night, ay, till next morn's light, for weeks the play kept on :
'Twas fearful to see the winner's glee, and the losers haggard and wan;
You well might tell, by their features fell, they would ill brook to be crost;
And one morn there was one, who all night had won, jeer'd some who all night
had lost.

He went to bed-at noon he was dead-I know not from what, nor reck;
But they spake of a mark, livid and dark, about the dead man's neck!
And thus we sail'd on from old Panama,

We, the mighty Buccaneers!

This but begun and those who had won lived a life of anxious dread;
Day after day there was bicker and fray; and a man now and then struck dead.
Old Morgan stern was laugh'd to scorn, and it worry'd his heart, I trow;
Five days of care, and his iron-grey hair was as white as the winter's snow:
The losers at last his patience o'erpast, for they drew their sword each one,
And cried, with a shout, "Hell take you! come out, and fight for the gold ye
have won-

The gold that our blood bought at Panama :
We, the mighty Buccaneers!"

We never were slow at a word and a blow, so we cross'd our irons full fain;
And for death and life had begun the strife, when old Morgan stopt it amain,
And thunder'd out with his stormy shout,-" Dogs, ye have had your day!
To your berths!" he roar'd. "Who sheaths not his sword, Heaven grant him
its grace, I pray!

For I swear, by God, I will cleave him like wood!" There was one made an angry sign;

Old Morgan heard, and he kept his word; for he clove him to the chine.
So ended his exploits at Panama:

He, the mighty Buccaneer!
At this we quail'd, and we henceforth sail'd, in a smouldering sort of truce;
But our dark brows gloom'd, and we inward fumed for a pretext to give us

loose :

When early one morn-"A strange sail astern!" we heard the lookout-man

hail;

And old Morgan shout, " Put the ship about, and crowd every stitch of sail!" And around went we, surging through the sea at our island wild buck's pace; In wonderment what old Morgan meant, we near'd to the fated chase

We, the pillagers of old Panama,

We, the mighty Buccaneers!

She went right fast, but we took her at last. T was a little brigantine thing;
With some four men for crew, and a boy or two-a bark built for trafficking;
Besides this crew were three women, too: her freight was salt-fish and oil:
For the men on board, they were put to the sword; the women we spared
awhile.

And all was surmise what to do with the prize, when old Morgan, calling us aft, Roar'd, "Ye who have fooled yourselves out of your gold take possession of yonder craft,

And go pillage some other Panama,

Ye, the mighty Buccaneers!

We were reckless and rude, we had been at feud till 't was war to the very knife;
But it clove each heart when we came to part from comrades in many a strife:
Over one and all a gloom seemed to fall, and in silence they packed their gear,
Amid curses and sighs, and glistening eyes, and here and there a tear.
We gave brooches and things for keepsakes and rings; and some trucked the
weapons they wore :

This Spanish gun was a token from one who had fought me a week before,
While we diced for the spoils of old Panama,
We, the mighty Buccaneers!

Their traps all pack'd, there was nothing lack'd, but sharing the women three:
The odd one's choice was left to the dice, and she fell to the rich so free;
When the losers' 'gan swear the dice were unfair, and brawl'd till our chief gat
wild,

And, without more ado, cut the woman in two, as Solomon shared the child.
Then each of each band shook each old mate's hand, and we parted with hearts

full sore;

We all that day watch'd them lessen away. They were never heard of more! We kept merrily on from old Panama,

We, the mighty Buccaneers!

Their sufferings none know, but ours, I trow, were very, oh! very sore;
We had storm and gale till our hearts 'gan fail, and then calms, which harassed

us more;

Then many fell sick; and while all were weak, we rounded the fiery cape;
As I hope for bliss in the life after this, 't was a miracle our escape!
Then a leak we sprung, and to lighten us, flung all our gold to the element:
Our perils are past, and we 're here at last, but as penniless as we went.
And such was the pillage of Panama

By the mighty Buccaneers!
G. E. INMAN.

46.

NO SILVER SPOON!

BY THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY, ESQ.

"Take a poon, pig."-MISS EDGEWORTH'S "Simple Susan."

It has been, time out of mind, a common saying, that young gentlemen or ladies who come into the world on high days or holidays, fortunate days for the family, or days when unexpected legacies had been received, or wealth realized, were born with silver spoons in their mouths. Nay, in some modern farce a pert abigail declares that such has been her young mistress's luck, that she could not have entered existence with anything in her throat less valuable than a silver soup ladle! Whether such massive accompaniments are inconvenient to the innocent babes I have no means of ascertaining; but I do think that all mothers who have given birth to such treasures, ought ever after to be treated with high respect. On the list of great and illustrious persons they ought surely only to be placed second to the far-famed goose, that laid a golden egg for her mistress daily. I made my appearance a few days earlier than I was expected; and the very morning of my arrival intelligence was brought of the death of an old Uncle Somebody, who died out somewhere, and who had been supposed dead for years, having left my father five thousand pounds a-year. My father and mother, who had been some years married, had long sighed for a baby; nor can it be doubted that, like other folks but moderately off in the world, they had also sighed for a little accession of fortune. Two aspirations were thus propitiously realized in one day; and, as I really seemed to make my appearance accompanied by the fortune which I was destined to inherit, it is not surprising that my mother's only brother, a bachelor, Mr. Tidyman Twig, who had undertaken the responsibility of being my godfather, should give me what was intended for a fondling caress, squeeze the breath almost out of my little body, set me howling, and then replacing me in the arms of my nurse, emphatically exclaim. “There, if ever a boy was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, that's the very boy."

From this time my father seemed to become a new man; his habits had hitherto been indolent. He was a merchant; but, not having a sufficient capital to enable him to engage in large and immediately profitable speculations, and, being at the same time deficient in the industry and perseverance which so often make a small property expand itself into a large one, he had made up his mind to live upon his moderate income.

Now, however, affairs began to wear a different aspect. He took a suburban villa; he kept his carriage; a well-situated and commodious counting-house was fitted up; and a round, ruddy, active, unexceptionable, sort of gentlemanlike partner was daily seated in an inner room, where he represented the moiety of the firm of "Messrs. Goodman and Cute."

Master Twig Goodman (meaning myself) having attained the age of twelve years, was to be sent to school; and godpapa having on all eventful occasions taken me rather under his own jurisdiction, he selected the seminary; and, under his protection, and in his own chaise, I was carried to the Rev. Mr. Sloane's; a large, airy, old

fashioned, but cheerful-looking brick building, standing in the midst of a charming garden. Perhaps it was fortunate for me that Godpapa Tidyman did take me under his wing; for my father, as is generally the case with persons of not very strong minds, had flown rather hastily from one extreme to the other, and had latterly become as fussy, fidgetty, over-anxious, and perplexed about his mercantile matters, as he had formerly been passive and even puerile. My poor mother, too, who never had been very strong, found time since she became rich to complain of, and give way to any extent of debility which indolence might require as a veil for its helplessness, or which doctors who devote themselves to ladies' nervous systems might sanction, never seemed to have time to do anything. She kissed me, and coaxed me, and gave me cakes, and called me pet, darling, and all other endearing names; and then it was evidently quite a relief to her when she again put me into the nurse's arms, and, sinking back on her cushions with a smelling-bottle to her nose, said, "Take him away, nurse. Ta, ta, pet! Don't let him cry here. Ma'll see her darling again to-morrow."

And thus it was from infancy to boyhood I was indulged and spoiled, and she was always telling me how much she loved me. But then she would check the more natural spirits of my age; my noise was too much for her; and, alas! her love was too little for me. Thus it happened, I believe, that Godpapa Tidyman became to me a sort of papa, and mamma, and godpapa, all in one; and, when he kindly and affectionately placed me under Mr. Sloane's care, there certainly was no one in the world so dear to me as himself. I was very happy at Mr. Sloane's. I liked the place and the people; and, above all, my schoolfellows, with whom, however, I certainly did at first involve myself in a little personal annoyance, and entirely through my own egotistical garrulity. I must needs tell them of my first birthday, and the fortune of which I was the unconscious accompaniment. This was nothing; but I told them of the old adage, that with which Godpapa Tidyman still never failed to greet me, and which, caught from him, had daily been echoed by guests of every degree, and by every servant who could take the liberty of addressing me so freely. Yes, I told all the boys that I had been born with a silver spoon in my mouth! How little did I then anticipate the result! From that day to the day of my departure from school, I never failed to be greeted as "little spoony!”

But little spoony managed to make his own way, ay, and without fighting to. I do not say that now and then I had not a skirmish, which ended in a black eye or cracked crown; but it never was my lot to encounter perpetual squabbles and bickerings with those companions with whom I was in hourly intercourse; and the notion of a boy's fighting his way through a school has always struck me as a most unamiable and unpromising way of beginning life. "Little spoony" was still my nickname; but I had names just as applicable for them; and, when I bore mine with good humour, very soon found that the zest with which it was given had worn

I

off.

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Passing rapidly from infancy to boyhood, and thence to maturity, very like shortening my own life. But I am only skipping, and skipping in the memoirs of a boy is surely highly characteristic. When I had become "young master at home, and possessed dogs,

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horses, a cab, and all other advantages usually sported by the only sons of rich merchants, I heard more of the silver spoon than ever. Godpapa Tidyman, when he greeted me, never had it off his tongue's tip; and certainly, taking it figuratively and metaphorically, when I glanced around at the worldly advantages, comforts, and prospects I possessed, I could not help admitting that something bright had been propitious to my birth; but, whether it was a radiant planet, or a silver spoon, it was quite impossible for me to determine.

And now came the brightest event that ever blessed me under the influence of that silver talisman; I fell in love with youth, beauty, amiability, accomplishments, ay, and greatest wonder of all, with a girl of large and independent fortune, and without my being at all aware of it, with the very girl long since chosen for my destined bride by my father, my mother, and, above all, by dear Godpapa Tidyman.

No two people could be happier than we were. My father and her uncle were constantly closetted together,- as old people, I believe, always are on such occasions, while we spent our mornings rambling through the green-lanes of our pretty neighbourhood, and in the evening went to some theatre, to which we inveigled my poor mother. Anna Maria was herself motherless. Godpapa Tidyman was in a state of the utmost joy and excitement, lavishing upon my fair intended the most delicate presents; and on myself he seemed determined to bestow a regular matrimonial outfit,-chests of linen, hampers of wine, packages of china, and a most elegant and useful carriage, with imperials, cap-cases, bonnet-boxes, and I know not what, all out of consideration for Anna Maria.

Nor did he forget the silver forks and spoons.

At this time I know not whether my silver spoon melted away; certain it is, that all my own bright prospects seemed to vanish one by one. Bankruptcy, that old infirmity of firms, fell heavy on the house of Goodman and Cute. That is, most decidedly on one half of the house; for it was whispered that Cute had been too much for Goodman, and, having well feathered his own nest, had left my father, nay, without a dry hard twig, unless, in his emergency he was so fortunate as to find one in Godpapa Tidyman Twig.

Since the death of my poor mother, who had long since suffered from the worrying indications of an approaching calamity-the untimely knocks and rings, the unseasonable visits of men in lowcrowned hats with broad brims and shabby drab coats; and had pined away and perished even before the lean visage of want had been suffered to encroach upon her actual wants ;-since her death, my father's health had rapidly declined. Always of an indolent, inactive, and inflammatory habit, he had latterly neglected himself; and utterly unprepared for a reverse of fortune, and deeply hurt by the conduct of his partner Cute, he was unable to endure the blow, and a very few days after the failure, died of apoplexy.

When I met Godpapa Tidyman again, I of course expected to hear nothing but condolences. These were, indeed, lavished on me on account of my recent severe family losses, and the excellent old gentleman shed many tears over the memory of his sister and her husband. But, when we came to speak of the failure, to my utter amazement he was full of congratulations, and actually exclaimed, "Well, my dear godson, I always said you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, and you see I was not wrong."

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