After we had seen my father we walked down to the hospital terrace, by the riverside.  We had been there but a few minutes when we heard Bill Harness strike up with his fiddle: 

Oh, cruel was my parents as tore my love from me, And cruel was the press-gang as took him off to sea; And cruel was the little boat as row’d him from the strand, But crueler the big ship as sail’d him from the land.  Sing tura-la, tura-la, tura-lara ley.

Oh, cruel was the water as bore my love from Mary, And cruel was the fair wind as wouldn’t blow contrary; And cruel was the captain, his boatswain, and his men, As didn’t care a farding if we never meet again.  Sing tura-la, tura-la, tura-lara ley.

Oh, cruel was th’ engagement in which my true love fought, And cruel was the cannon-ball as knock’d his right eye out; He used to ogle me with peepers full of fun, But now he looks askew at me, because he’s only one.  Sing tura-la, etc., etc.

“Eh! wid your turla-la.  You call dat singing?” cried Opposition Bill, stumping up, with his fiddle in his hand.  “Stop a little.  How you do, Mr. Tom? how you do, pretty lady?  Now I sing you a song, and show dat fellow how to make music.  Stop a little, Miss Virginny.”

“Well,” said Bill Harness, “I’ll just let you sing, that Miss Saunders may judge between us.”

Virginia felt half inclined to go away; but as the pensioners always treated her with as much respect as any of the ladies of the officers of the hospital, I pressed her arm that she might stay.  Opposition Bill then struck up as follows, saying, “Now I give you a new ’Getting upstairs.’”

On board of a man-of-war dey hauled me one day, And pitch me up de side just like one truss of hay.  Such a getting upstairs I nebber did see, Such a getting upstairs.

Dey show me de masthead, and tell me I must go, I tumble on de rattling, and break my lilly toe.  Such a getting upstairs I nebber did see, etc.

Dey pipe de hands up anchor, and Massa Boatswain’s cane Come rattle on our backs, for all de world like rain.  Such a getting upstairs, etc.

And den dey man de rigging, the topsails for to reef, And up we scull together, just like a flock of sheep.  Such a getting upstairs, etc.

Dey send de boats away, a Frenchman for to board, We climb de side with one hand, de oder hold de sword.  Such a getting upstairs, etc.

Now here I sent to Greenwich because I lost a leg, And ab to climb up to de ward upon my wooden peg.  Such a getting upstairs, etc.

“Dere, now; I ask you, Mister Tom, and de young lady, which sing best, dat fellow, or your humble servant Bill—­dat’s me?”

“You sing very well, Bill,” said Virginia, laughing, “but I’m not able to decide such a difficult point.”

“Nor more can I; it is impossible to say which I like best,” continued I.  “We must go home now, so good-by.”