Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн

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The pathetic ditty concludes thus. The young sailor is supposed to be addressing some villagers assembled in the churchyard:—

Says this ere Jack, with deep emotion,

“In this world there’s now no rest for me;

My poor Sall’s heart I’ve surely broken,

All through my sailing on the salt sea.”

It was evident enough that old Nat must have had at one time a sweet and sympathetic voice, and even in his decline there was something of it remaining.

Any one who has travelled through the rural districts of England and paid an occasional visit to old roadside inns cannot fail to have been struck by the quaint and curious ditties that are trolled by the villagers.

Many of them are singularly characteristic.

Where these extraordinary specimens of musical composition all come from—​for their name is legion—​is perfectly surprising.

In most cases the singers never had a copy of the song they sang; and, indeed, if they had, they would in all probability have been none the wiser, seeing that they were quite unable to read the notes.