He gave them, then, a cheery sailor-song, which brought in its train a series of anecdotes from the recent war.
Old Jacob, under the influence of the prevailing good-fellowship and the good cheer, had become uncommonly lively for him, and would even put in a word now and then.

But every attempt to make him tell a story himself failed.

Only when the action at the Heather Islands came up for discussion for a while did he come out with a bit of a yarn, as he called it.
"Yes," he said, putting carefully down the glass that was handed to him, "it was a great battle, was that.

The country lost a fine ship there, and many a brave lad to boot.

But God's curse hangs over the man that piloted the Englishman in to the Sand Islands--although none here, while he was alive, knew his name.