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- A CAPITAL ship for an ocean trip
- Was The Walloping Window-blind --
- No gale that blew dismayed her crew
- Or troubled the captain's mind.
- The man at the wheel was taught to feel
- Contempt for the wildest blow,
- And it often appeared, when the weather had cleared,
- That he'd been in his bunk below.
- The boatswain's mate was very sedate,
- Yet fond of amusement, too;
- And he played hop-scotch with the starboard watch,
- While the captain tickled the crew.
- And the gunner we had was apparently mad,
- For he sat on the after-rail,
- And fired salutes with the captain's boots,
- In the teeth of the booming gale.
- The captain sat in a commodore's hat
- And dined, in a royal way,
- On toasted pigs and pickles and figs
- And gummery bread, each day.
- But the cook was Dutch, and behaved as such;
- For the food that he gave the crew
- Was a number of tons of hot-cross buns,
- Chopped up with sugar and glue.
- And we all felt ill as mariners will,
- On a diet that's cheap and rude;
- And we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook
- In a tub of his gluesome food.
- Then nautical pride we laid aside,
- And we cast the vessel ashore
- On the Gulliby Isles, where the Poohpooh smiles,
- And the Anagazanders roar.
- Composed of sand was that favored land,
- And trimmed with cinnamon straws;
- And pink and blue was the pleasing hue
- Of the Tickletoeteaser's claws.
- And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge
- And shot at the whistling bee;
- And the Binnacle-bats wore water-proof hats
- As they danced in the sounding sea.
- On rubagub bark, from dawn to dark,
- We fed, till we all had grown
- Uncommonly shrunk, -- when a Chinese junk
- Came by from the torriby zone.
- She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care,
- And we cheerily put to sea;
- And we left the crew of the junk to chew
- The bark of the rubagub tree.
- Charles Edward Carryl
- THE night was thick and hazy
- When the Piccadilly Daisy
- Carried down the crew and captain in the sea;
- And I think the water drowned 'em,
- For they never, never found 'em,
- And I know they didn't come ashore with me.
- Oh! 'twas very sad and lonely
- When I found myself the only
- Population on this cultivated shore;
- But I've made a little tavern
- In a rocky little cavern,
- And I sit and watch for people at the door.
- I spent no time in looking
- For a girl to do my cooking,
- As I'm quite a clever hand at making stews;
- But I had that fellow Friday
- Just to keep the tavern tidy,
- And to put a Sunday polish on my shoes.
- I have a little garden
- That I'm cultivating lard in,
- As the things I eat are rather tough and dry;
- For I live on toasted lizards,
- Prickly pears, and parrot gizzards,
- And I'm really very fond of beetle-pie.
- The clothes I had were furry,
- And it made me fret and worry
- When I found the moths were eating off the hair;
- And I had to scrape and sand 'em,
- And I boiled 'em and I tanned 'em,
- Till I got the fine morocco suit I wear.
- I sometimes seek diversion
- In a family excursion
- With the few domestic animals you see;
- And we take along a carrot
- As refreshments for the parrot,
- And a little can of jungleberry tea.
- Then we gather as we travel
- Bits of moss and dirty gravel,
- And we chip off little specimens of stone;
- And we carry home as prizes
- Funny bugs of handy sizes,
- Just to give the day a scientific tone.
- If the roads are wet and muddy
- We remain at home and study,--
- For the Goat is very clever at a sum,--
- And the Dog, instead of fighting,
- Studies ornamental writing,
- While the Cat is taking lessons on the drum.
- We retire at eleven,
- And we rise again at seven;
- And I wish to call attention as I close,
- To the fact that all the scholars
- Are correct about their collars,
- And particular in turning out their toes.
- Charles Edward Carryl
Poets' Corner .
H O M E .