The sailors' wives about this period besiege the captain and his lady alternately, with petitions to be allowed to go to sea in the ship; to all, or most of which, a deaf ear must be turned.

When all things are put to rights, the port-admiral comes on board to muster and inspect the ship's company, and to see how the different equipments have been attended to.
At length, just before sailing, pay-day comes, and with it many a disgusting scene will ever be associated until the present system be modified.

The ship is surrounded by a fleet of boats filled with gangs of queer-looking Jew-pedlars sitting in the midst of piles of slop-clothing, gaudy handkerchiefs, tawdry trinkets, eggs and butter, red herrings and cheeses, tin-pots, fruit, joints of meat, and bags of potatoes, well concealed beneath which are bottles and bladders filled with the most horribly adulterated spirituous liquors.

As many of these dealers as can be conveniently ranged on the quarter-deck and gangways may be admitted, that the market may be as open and fair as possible; but it is very indiscreet to allow any of them to go on the main-deck.
Right happy is that hour when the ship is fairly clear of all these annoyances--sweethearts and wives inclusive--and when, with the water filled up to the last gallon, the bread-room chock full, and as many quarters of beef got on board as will keep fresh, the joyful sound of "Up Anchor!" rings throughout the ship.

The capstan is manned; the messenger brought to; round fly the bars; and as the anchor spins buoyantly up to the bows, the jib is hoisted, the topsails sheeted home, and off she goes, merrily before the breeze! FINIS.
POETRY PUBLISHED BY MESSRS.