THE DOCTOR. A MISCELLANY. Who should be trusted now, when one's right hand Is perjured to the bosom ? SHAKSPEARE. THE DOCTOR. A MISCELLANY. DOCTOR MORRINGTON and his friend Lieutenant Clarendon, with whom the reader is already acquainted, under the cockpit appellations of Smudge and Diachylon, had, at the period to which this story relates, gained each a step up the professional ladder. After a separation of many years, they had been appointed to serve in the same ship, and mutually renewed an intimacy which time had partially estranged. The knowledge of each other's character, the recollection of the early scenes of their naval career, and the remembrance of some hard service endured together, soon ripened their sentiments into a sincere friendship, which, among other concomitants, usually led them to perambulate foreign places together. The ship in which they now served lay at anchor off the Bermuda Islands, screened from the heavy waves of the Atlantic by dispersed and extensive reefs of rocks, which, during gales, cast up a curved ridge of foam round the anchorage, showing at once its danger and security. It was one of the finest mornings of that mild and delightful climate, when they determined on a ramble among the beautiful groups of cedar-clad islands, which they had been viewing with their telescopes for the last two days. They landed near some chalky-looking cottages, partially shaded by a grove of halfgrown trees; and, as they passed, distinctly heard the voices of black girls singing. "Man-a-war buccra, man-a-war buccra, Dem be de bo, dem be de bo; Man-a-war buccra, man-a-war buccra, Sounds at once illustrative of the language of the sable inhabitants, and their feelings towards |