The Rhode-Island Republican. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1809-1841, 1832-03-27
From Blackwood's Magazine for November.
TOM CRINGLE'S LOG.
THE PICCAROor

"Fader was Corramantee,
Moder was Mingo,
| Black Picaninny Buckra wantee
So dem sell a me Peter, by lingo,
Jiggery, jggery, jiggery."
swell sung, Massa Bungo," exciaim.
ed Mr.. Splinter, where do you hail from
| my hearty?
"HilIo Bungo indeed free and easy
dat any how. Who yourself, eh 2"
"Peter," exclaimed the Lieutenant
"don't you know me 7"
"Cannot say dat do" reioined the
negro, very gravely, without lifting his
head, as he sat mending his jacket in one
of the embrasures near the water gate OF
the arsenal-"Have not de honor ofyour
acquaintance, SIR"
He then resumed his scream, for song
it could not be called =
"Mamy Sally's daughter
Loose him shoe in an old canoe
Dat lay half full of water,
And den she knew not what do,
Jiggery, jig
'Confound your jiggery, jiggery, Sir |!
But know you well enough nay man !;
and you can scarcely have forgot Lieu
tenant Splinter of the Torch one would
think !"
However, it was clear that the poor
fellow had not known us, for the name
so startled him that in his hurry to un-
lace his legs from under him, as he sat
tailor fashion, he fairly capsized out OF
his perch, and toppled town on his nose
- feature fortunately flattened by the
hand Of nature, that question ifit could
have been rendered more obtuse had he
fallen out of the main top on a timber
head, or marine officers.
'Eh Limoges, him sure enough, and
who is de Picaninny hofficer-Oh l see
Massa Tom Cringle Z Gar-amighty, gen.
tlemen, where have you dropt from
Where is de old Torch Many time
have l Peter Mangrove, pilot to him
Britanic Majesty squadron, taken the old
brig in and through amongst de keys ut
Port Royal"
'Ay, and how often did you scour her
copper against the coral reefs, Peter =
His Majesty's pilot gave knowing
look, and laid his hand on his breast
NO more Of dat, if you love me, massa.
"Well, well. it don't signify now, my
boy, she will never give you that trouble
again-foundered-all hands lost, Peter,
but the two you see before
Very sorry, Massa Plinter, VERY
sorry-What do black cooks mate and
all-But misfortune can't be help. Stop
till / put my needle and l will take q
turn wild you.' Here he drew mp him
self with great deal Of absurd gravity.
Proper dat British hofficer in distress
should assist one another.-We shall
consult togeder. How can serve you" !"
why, Peter, if you could help US to a
passage to Port Royal it would be serv-
ing us most essentially. When we used
to be lying there a week seldom passed
without one fthe squadron arriving from
this but here we have been for more
than month without a single penant
belonging to the station having looked
in; our money is running short and il
we are to hold on in Carthagenia for O.
mother six weeks we shall not have a
shot left in the locker-nor copper to
tinkle on tombstone"
The negro looked sseadfastly at us.
then carefully around. There was no one
near.
You see, Massa Plnter, I am desira-
bic to serve you, for one little reason OF
my own but, beside dat, it is good for
me at present to make some friend wId
de hofiicer Of de squadron, being as how
dat am absent without lcave.'