"
I cited the lady in the song, who says:--
A tarry sailor I'll ne'er disdain,
But always I will treat the same,
as proof that such exclusiveness was far from being the universal rule
at home, and encouraged him to rival the "swabber, the boatswain and
mate" for "Moll, Mag, Marion, and Margery."
"Or," said he, "like the jolly tar you quote, dismiss both your songs
as 'scurvy tunes,' and, swigging at a black jack, say: Here's my
comfort."
"I am not sure," said Fred bitterly, thinking of his own rejected suit,
"that Stephano's philosophy is not the best for wretches like us."
"Yes," said Mike, "until after the Millennium. Then the march of
civilization will be ended, and the ranks may be broken. Then soft hands
and hard hands may clasp each other. Then rays from the purest and most
refined souls may shine through bright eyes without being especially
chilled for those whom a cold destiny makes especially needful of their
heart-warming influences. Then you, poor as you are, may aspire to wed
the daughter of a banker, and Joe or I may seek to satisfy the heart's
desires of the Sultan's daughter, without Aladdin's lamp or Oberon's
whistle.
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