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Then WILLIAM LEE, he up and said (The Captain's c.o.xswain he), "We've heard the speech your honour's made, And werry pleased we be.
"We won't pretend, my lad, as how We're glad to lose our REECE; Urbane, polite, he suited quite The saucy Mantelpiece.
"But if your honour gives your mind To study all our ways, With dance and song we'll jog along As in those happy days.
"I like your honour's looks, and feel You're worthy of your sword.
Your hand, my lad--I'm doosid glad To welcome you aboard!"
SIR BERKELY looked amazed, as though He didn't understand.
"Don't shake your head," good WILLIAM said, "It is an honest hand.
"It's grasped a better hand than yourn-- Come, gov'nor, I insist!"
The Captain stared--the c.o.xswain glared-- The hand became a fist!
"Down, upstart!" said the hardy salt; But BERKELY dodged his aim, And made him go in chains below: The seamen murmured "Shame!"
He stopped all songs at 12 p.m., Stopped hornpipes when at sea, And swore his cot (or bunk) should not Be used by aught than he.
He never joined their daily mess, Nor asked them to his own, But chaffed in gay and social way The officers alone.
His First Lieutenant, PETER, was As useless as could be, A helpless stick, and always sick When there was any sea.
This First Lieutenant proved to be His foster-sister MAY, Who went to sea for love of he In masculine array.
And when he learnt the curious fact, Did he emotion show, Or dry her tears or end her fears By marrying her? No!
Or did he even try to soothe This maiden in her teens?
Oh, no!--instead he made her wed The Sergeant of Marines!
Of course such Spartan discipline Would make an angel fret; They drew a lot, and WILLIAM shot This fearful martinet.
The Admiralty saw how ill They'd treated CAPTAIN REECE; He was restored once more aboard The saucy Mantelpiece.
Ballad: The Sailor Boy To His La.s.s
I go away this blessed day, To sail across the sea, MATILDA!
My vessel starts for various parts At twenty after three, MATILDA.
I hardly know where we may go, Or if it's near or far, MATILDA, For CAPTAIN HYDE does not confide In any 'fore-mast tar, MATILDA!
Beneath my ban that mystic man Shall suffer, coute qui coute, MATILDA!
What right has he to keep from me The Admiralty route, MATILDA?
Because, forsooth! I am a youth Of common sailors' lot, MATILDA!
Am I a man on human plan Designed, or am I not, MATILDA?
But there, my la.s.s, we'll let that pa.s.s!
With anxious love I burn, MATILDA.
I want to know if we shall go To church when I return, MATILDA?
Your eyes are red, you bow your head; It's pretty clear you thirst, MATILDA, To name the day--What's that you say?
- "You'll see me further first," MATILDA?
I can't mistake the signs you make, Although you barely speak, MATILDA; Though pure and young, you thrust your tongue Right in your pretty cheek, MATILDA!
My dear, I fear I hear you sneer-- I do--I'm sure I do, MATILDA!
With simple grace you make a face, Ejaculating, "Ugh!" MATILDA.
Oh, pause to think before you drink The dregs of Lethe's cup, MATILDA!
Remember, do, what I've gone through, Before you give me up, MATILDA!
Recall again the mental pain Of what I've had to do, MATILDA!
And be a.s.sured that I've endured It, all along of you, MATILDA!
Do you forget, my blithesome pet, How once with jealous rage, MATILDA, I watched you walk and gaily talk With some one thrice your age, MATILDA?
You squatted free upon his knee, A sight that made me sad, MATILDA!
You pinched his cheek with friendly tweak, Which almost drove me mad, MATILDA!
I knew him not, but hoped to spot Some man you thought to wed, MATILDA!
I took a gun, my darling one, And shot him through the head, MATILDA!
I'm made of stuff that's rough and gruff Enough, I own; but, ah, MATILDA!
It DID annoy your sailor boy To find it was your pa, MATILDA!
I've pa.s.sed a life of toil and strife, And disappointments deep, MATILDA; I've lain awake with dental ache Until I fell asleep, MATILDA!
At times again I've missed a train, Or p'rhaps run short of tin, MATILDA, And worn a boot on corns that shoot, Or, shaving, cut my chin, MATILDA.
But, oh! no trains--no dental pains-- Believe me when I say, MATILDA, No corns that shoot--no pinching boot Upon a summer day, MATILDA-- It's my belief, could cause such grief As that I've suffered for, MATILDA, My having shot in vital spot Your old progenitor, MATILDA.
Bethink you how I've kept the vow I made one winter day, MATILDA-- That, come what could, I never would Remain too long away, MATILDA.
And, oh! the crimes with which, at times, I've charged my gentle mind, MATILDA, To keep the vow I made--and now You treat me so unkind, MATILDA!
For when at sea, off Caribbee, I felt my pa.s.sion burn, MATILDA, By pa.s.sion egged, I went and begged The captain to return, MATILDA.
And when, my pet, I couldn't get That captain to agree, MATILDA, Right through a sort of open port I pitched him in the sea, MATILDA!
Remember, too, how all the crew With indignation blind, MATILDA, Distinctly swore they ne'er before Had thought me so unkind, MATILDA.
And how they'd shun me one by one-- An unforgiving group, MATILDA-- I stopped their howls and sulky scowls By pizening their soup, MATILDA!
So pause to think, before you drink The dregs of Lethe's cup, MATILDA; Remember, do, what I've gone through, Before you give me up, MATILDA.
Recall again the mental pain Of what I've had to do, MATILDA, And be a.s.sured that I've endured It, all along of you, MATILDA!
Ballad: The Reverend Simon Magus
A rich advowson, highly prized, For private sale was advertised; And many a parson made a bid; The REVEREND SIMON MAGUS did.
He sought the agent's: "Agent, I Have come prepared at once to buy (If your demand is not too big) The Cure of Otium-c.u.m-Digge."