"Oh! my name was Captain Brand,
A-sailing,
And a-sailing;
Oh! my name was Captain Brand,
A-sailing free.
Oh! my name was Captain Brand,
And I sinned by sea and land,
For I broke God's just command,
A-sailing free."

'Twas a vile thing to sing at the grandson of so unfortunate a man, and
oftentimes Barnaby True would double up his little fists and would
fight his tormentors at great odds, and would sometimes go back home
with a bloody nose or a bruised eye to have his poor mother cry over
him and grieve for him.

Not that his days were all of teasing and torment, either; for if his
comrades did sometimes treat him so, why then there were other times
when he and they were as great friends as could be, and used to go
a-swimming together in the most amicable fashion where there was a bit of
sandy strand below the little bluff along the East River above Fort
George.

There was a clump of wide beech-trees at that place, with a fine shade
and a place to lay their clothes while they swam about, splashing with
their naked white bodies in the water. At these times Master Barnaby
would bawl as lustily and laugh as loud as though his grandfather had
been the most honest ship-chandler in the town, instead of a
bloody-handed pirate who had been murdered in his sins.