The women of the steerage are persuading the wife of the burglar not to go on shore; their arguments are strong, but not strong enough against the devoted love of a woman.--"Your husband is certain to be hung; what's the use of following him? Your passage is paid, and you will have no difficulty in supporting your children in America." But she rejects the advice--goes down the side, and presses her children to her breast, as, overcome with the agony of her feelings, she drops into the boat; and, now that she is away from the ship, you hear the sobs, which can no longer be controlled.
I was repeating to myself some of the stanzas of Mrs Norton's "Here's a Health to the Outward-bound," when I cast my eyes forward.
I could not imagine what the seamen were about; they appeared to be _pumping_, instead of heaving, at the windlass. I forced my way through the heterogeneous mixture of human beings, animals, and baggage which crowded the decks, and discovered that they were working a patent windlass, by Dobbinson--a very ingenious and superior invention. The seamen, as usual, lightened their labour with the song and chorus, forbidden by the etiquette of a man-of-war. The one they sung was peculiarly musical, although not refined; and the chorus of "Oh! Sally Brown," was given with great emphasis by the whole crew between every line of the song, sung by an athletic young third mate. I took my seat on the knight-heads--turned my face aft--looked and listened.
"`Sally Brown--oh! my dear Sally.'" (Single voice).
"`Sally Brown, of Buble Al-ly.'" (Single voice).
"Avast heaving there; send all aft to clear the boat."
"Aye, aye, sir. Where are we to stow these casks, Mr Fisher?"
"Stow them! Heaven knows; get them in, at all events."
"Captain H---! Captain H---! there's my piano still on deck; it will be quite spoiled--indeed it will."
"Don't be alarmed, ma'am; as soon as we're under weigh we'll hoist the cow up, and get the piano down."
"No, ma'am; but the cow's over the hatchway."
"Now, then, my lads, forward to the windlass."
"Mr Fisher, how much cable is there out?"
"Avast heaving; send the men aft to whip the ladies in.--Now, miss, only sit down and don't be afraid, and you'll be in, in no time.--Whip away, my lads, handsomely; steady her with the guy; lower away.--There, miss, now you're safely _landed_."