His sooty crew sent forth a laugh that rang from

stem to stern

A dozen pair of grimly cheeks were crumpled on the

As many sets of grinning teeth came shining out at

once :

A dozen gloomy shapes at once enjoyed the merry

fit,

With shriek and yell, and oaths as well, like Demons

of the Pit.

They crowed their fill, and then the Chief made

answer for the whole ;

"Our skins," said he, “are black, ye see, because we

carry coal;

You'll find your mother sure enough, and see your native fields

For this here ship has picked you up-the Mary Ann of Shields!"

MONGST the sights that Mrs. Bond

Enjoyed yet grieved at more than others,

Were little ducklings in a pond,

Swimming about beside their mothers

Small things like living water-lilies,

But yellow as the daffo-dillies.

"It's very hard," she used to moan,

"That other people have their ducklings

To grace their waters-mine alone

Have never any pretty chucklings."

For why-each little yellow navy

Went down-all downy-to old Davy!

She had a lake-a pond, I mean

Its wave was rather thick than pearly— She had two ducks, their napes were green— She had a drake, his tail was curly,--Yet 'spite of drake, and ducks, and pond, No little ducks had Mrs. Bond!

The birds were both the best of mothers-
The nests had eggs-the eggs had luck—
The infant D's came forth like others—
But there, alas! the matter stuck!
They might as well have all died addle
As die when they began to paddle!

For when, as native instinct taught her,
The mother set her brood afloat,
They sank ere long right under water,
Like any overloaded boat;

They were web-footed too to see,

As ducks and spiders ought to be!

No peccant humour in a gander

Brought havoc on her little folks,-
No poaching cook-a frying pander
To appetite,-destroyed their yolks,
Beneath her very eyes, Od rot 'em!
They went, like plummets, to the bottom.

The thing was strange--a contradiction

It seemed of nature and her works!

For little ducks, beyond conviction,
Should float without the help of corks:
Great Johnson it bewildered him-

To hear of ducks that could not swim!

Poor Mrs. Bond! what could she do

But change the breed-and she tried divers

Which dived as all seemed born to do;
No little ones were e'er survivors-
Like those that copy gems I'm thinking,
They all were given to die-sinking!

In vain their downy coats were shorn;

They floundered still!--Batch after batch went!