As they skooted fer timber, and on and on- And the Old man's words in his mind all day,- Take keer of yourse'f!" Think of a private, now, perhaps, 'At's clumb clean up to the shoulder-straps And the Old man jes' wrapped up in him! Take keer of yourse'f!" James Whitcomb Riley. A SAILOR'S YARN This is the tale that was told to me, By a battered and shattered son of the sea- ""Twas the good ship Gyascutus, All in the China seas, With the wind a-lee and the capstan free ""Twas Captain Porgie on the deck, A Sailor's Yarn "Oh, how does our good ship head to-night? How heads our gallant craft?' 'Oh, she heads to the E. S. W. by N., And the binnacle lies abaft!' "Oh, what does the quadrant indicate, And how does the sextant stand?' 'Oh, the sextant's down to the freezing point, And the quadrant's lost a hand!' "Oh, and if the quadrant has lost a hand, It's our bodies and bones to Davy Jones "Oh, fly aloft to the garboard strake! Bend a studding sail on the martingale, "Oh, boatswain, down in the for'ard hold What water do you find?' 'Four foot and a half by the royal gaff And rather more behind!' "Oh, sailors, collar your marline spikes And each belaying pin; Come stir your stumps, and spike the pumps, Or more will be coming in!' 681 "They stirred their stumps, they spiked the pumps, They spliced the mizzen brace; Aloft and alow they worked, but oh! The water gained apace. "They bored a hole above the keel To let the water out; But, strange to say, to their dismay, The water in did spout. "Then up spoke the Cook of our gallant ship, And he was a lubber brave: 'I have several wives in various ports, And my life I'd orter save.' "Then up spoke the Captain of Marines, Who dearly loved his prog: 'It's awful to die, and it's worse to be dry, And I move we pipe to grog.' "Oh, then 'twas the noble second mate And cruel skipper's jaw. "He took the anchor on his back, And leaped into the main; Through foam and spray he clove his way, "Through foam and spray, a league away ""Taint much of a job to talk about, And suth'in to do, if I say it, too, Such was the tale that was told to me James Jeffrey Roche. The Converted Cannibals 683 THE CONVERTED CANNIBALS UPON an island, all alone, They lived, in the Pacific; One's best without Such things in heat terrific. Though cannibals by birth were they, Were, if you please, Of what their fare consisted. But after dinner they'd converse, Nor did their topic vary; Wild tales of gore they would rehearse, They'd gaze upon each other's joints, 'Tis dangerous To think of missionary." Well, on a day, upon the shore, As flotsam, or as jetsam, Some wooden cases,-ten, or more,- Said Tum-tum, "Do; We'll both wade out and get some." The cases held,-what do you think?- Nay! gentle reader, do not shrink- This fraud to force On them. In this he sinned. Our simple friends knew naught of sin; According to direction. For very joy they shed salt tears. Said they. "Hooray! We'll feast to-day ""Tis very tough," said one, for he "Too salt," the other said, "for me; This flavour might be beaten. And, should a missionary call To-day, he'd find them gentle, With no perverted tastes at all, Nor need he fear To taste their cheer G. E. Farrow. |