. Salt-water poems and ballads. n the hen-coop as so much smoke he fadedAnd as so much smoke he goed;And Ive often wondered since, Jan,How his old ghost stands to fareLong o them cold fishy femalesWith long green weeds for hair.* CAPE HORN GOSPEL —II Jake was a dirty Dago lad, an he gave the skipper chin,An the skipper up an took him a crack with an iron belaying-pinWhich stiffened him out a rusty corp, as pretty as you could wish,An then we shovelled him up in a sack an dumped him to the fish. That was jest arter wed got sail on her. Josey slipped from the tops1-yard an bust his bl
. Salt-water poems and ballads. n the hen-coop as so much smoke he fadedAnd as so much smoke he goed;And Ive often wondered since, Jan,How his old ghost stands to fareLong o them cold fishy femalesWith long green weeds for hair.* CAPE HORN GOSPEL —II Jake was a dirty Dago lad, an he gave the skipper chin,An the skipper up an took him a crack with an iron belaying-pinWhich stiffened him out a rusty corp, as pretty as you could wish,An then we shovelled him up in a sack an dumped him to the fish. That was jest arter wed got sail on her. Josey slipped from the tops1-yard an bust his bloody back(Which comed from playing the giddy goat an leavin go the jack);We lashed his chips in clouts of sail an ballasted him with stones,The Lord hath taken away, we says, an we give him to Davy Jones. An that was afore we were up with the Line. Joe were chippin a rusty plate a-squattin upon the deck,An all the watch he had the sun a-singein him on the neck,An forrard he falls at last, he does, an he lets his mallet go, 44. CAPE HORN GOSPEL —II 45 Dead as a nail with a calenture, an that was the end ofJoe. An that was just afore we made the Plate. All o the rest were sailor-men, an it come to rain an then it was halliards, sheets, an tacks clue up, an let go snugged her down an hove her to, an the old con- trairy cussStarted a plate, an settled an sank, an that was the end of us. We slopped around on coops an planks in the cold an in the dark,An Bill were drowned, an Tom were ate by a swine of a cruel a mail-boat reskied Harry an I (which comed of pious prayers).Which brings me here a-kickin my heels in the port of Buenos Ayres. Im bound for home in the Oronook, in a suit of looted duds,A a-earnin a stake by helpin peelin spuds,An if ever I fetch to Princes Stage an sets my feet bet your hide that there I stay, an foUers the sea no more. MOTHER CAREY(as told me by the bosun) Mother Carey ? Shes the mother o the witches N all th
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Keywords: ., bookauthormasefiel, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookyear1916
