three masts before me. Here, our old sailors say, in their black seventy-fours great admirals sometimes sit at table, and lord it over rows of captains and lieutenants.

Ha! What’s this? epaulets! Epaulets! The epaulets all come crowding! Pass round the decanters; glad to see ye; fill up, monsieurs! What an odd feeling, now, when a black boy’s host to white men with gold lace upon their coats! — Monsieurs, have ye seen one Pip? — a little negro lad, five feet high, hang-dog look, and cowardly! Jumped from a whale-boat once; — seen him? No! Well then, fill up again, captains, and let’s drink shame upon all cowards!

I name no names. Shame upon them! Put one foot upon the table. Shame upon all cowards. — Hist! Above there, I hear ivory — Oh,