I—­I beg your pardon.—­(Picking himself up.)

            “Under the Indiaman’s side;
  When—­a baby-face from her bulwarks, looked down on us open-eyed: 
  I can see him now—­with his fluttering curls, and his cheeks so
          chubby and round,
  Which a cherub might have been proud of, in snowiest linen bound! 
  Then—­he hailed us, in infant accents, so innocent, fresh, and
          blithe—­
  That our nest of human snakes was stirred to a conscience-stricken
          writhe!
    (In soft falsetto, as Child).  Dear Pirates, I am so
          sorry—­I did want to see you so. 
  I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed—­but you mustn’t come near,
          you know! 
  I wish I could ask you on board to tea, for I feel so down in the
          dumps,
  But I can’t invite you—­for, if you came, you’d be certain to
          catch my Mumps! 
  I’ve given it all of the passengers, and the Captain, and Mate,
          and Crew,
  And it would be a dreadful pity if you were to catch it too!”

    [Pause.  The Chirpy Man hides his face.

  We looked at each other; our utterance choked by irrepressible
          lumps,
  Though we feared neither man nor devil—­we all had a horror of
          Mumps! 
  And, but for this Cherub’s candour, ere many mere days had sped—­

    [Here the Pirate is stopped by uncontrollable emotion, and
    his audience, from the Captain downwards, express sympathy.

The Reciter (huskily, after wiping his eyes).  I’m very sorry—­it’s foolish, I know, but I always do break down just here.  I—­I think I can go on now.

[Illustration:  “WITH THE HONOURS OF WAR!”]

  “Had sped,
  Each buccaneer would have kept his bunk, with a bandage about his
          head!”

    [Here a fresh diversion is effected by The Chirpy Man, who
    suddenly achieves unpopularity by becoming aggressively ill,
    and causing a general stampede from his neighbourhood.

The Reciter—­
  “We wouldn’t have boarded her, after that, for all the treasure
          on earth,
  So we sailed away—­to the sweet salute of a peal of childish mirth!”

The Chirpy Man (resuming his seat, much relieved, and almost as chirpy as ever, to his neighbours, confidentially).  I’m all right agen now.  It was takin’ a glass o’ stout on top of black currant pudden done it, yer know!

[This piece of information is coldly received, which evidently both surprises and pains him; the Pirate brings his experiences to an end by relating how he realised his effects, and retired from business on a modest competence, and the “Daisy” regains the Pier.

* * * * *