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From “The Bab Ballads”
’T WAS on the shores that round our coast | |
| From Deal to Ramsgate span, | |
| That I found alone, on a piece of stone, | |
| An elderly naval man. | |
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| His hair was weedy, his beard was long, | 5 |
| And weedy and long was he; | |
| And I heard this wight on the shore recite, | |
| In a singular minor key:— | |
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| “O, I am a cook and a captain bold, | |
| And the mate of the Nancy brig, | 10 |
| And a bo’sun tight, and a midshipmite, | |
| And the crew of the captain’s gig.” | |
| |
| And he shook his fist and he tore his hair, | |
| Till I really felt afraid, | |
| For I couldn’t help thinking the man had been drinking, | 15 |
| And so I simply said:— | |
| |
| “O elderly man, it ’s little I know | |
| Of the duties of men of the sea, | |
| And I ’ll eat my hand if I understand | |
| How you can possibly be | 20 |
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| “At once a cook and a captain bold, | |
| And the mate of the Nancy brig, | |
| And a bo’sun tight, and a midshipmite, | |
| And the crew of the captain’s gig!” | |
| |
| Then he gave a hitch to his trousers, which | 25 |
| Is a trick all seamen larn, | |
| And having got rid of a thumping quid | |
| He spun this painful yarn:— | |
| |
| “’T was in the good ship Nancy Bell | |
| That we sailed to the Indian sea, | 30 |
| And there on a reef we come to grief, | |
| Which has often occurred to me. | |
| |
| “And pretty nigh all o’ the crew was drowned | |
| (There was seventy-seven o’ soul); | |
| And only ten of the Nancy’s men | 35 |
| Said ‘Here’ to the muster-roll. | |
| |
| “There was me, and the cook, and the captain bold, | |
| And the mate of the Nancy brig, | |
| And the bo’sun tight, and a midshipmite, | |
| And the crew of the captain’s gig. | 40 |
| |
| “For a month we ’d neither wittles nor drink, | |
| Till a-hungry we did feel, | |
| So we drawed a lot, and accordin’, shot | |
| The captain for our meal. | |
| |
| “The next lot fell to the Nancy’s mate, | 45 |
| And a delicate dish he made; | |
| Then our appetite with the midshipmite | |
| We seven survivors stayed. | |
| |
| And then we murdered the bo’sun tight, | |
| And he much resembled pig; | 50 |
| Then we wittled free, did the cook and me, | |
| On the crew of the captain’s gig. | |
| |
| “Then only the cook and me was left, | |
| And the delicate question, ‘Which | |
| Of us two goes to the kettle?’ arose, | 55 |
| And we argued it out as sich. | |
| |
| “For I loved that cook as a brother, I did, | |
| And the cook he worshipped me; | |
| But we ’d both be blowed if we ’d either be stowed | |
| In the other chap’s hold, you see. | 60 |
| |
| “‘I ’ll be eat if you dines off me,’ says Tom. | |
| ‘Yes, that,’ says I, ‘you ’ll be. | |
| I ’m boiled if I die, my friend,’ quoth I; | |
| And ‘Exactly so,’ quoth he. | |
| |
| “Says he: ‘Dear James, to murder me | 65 |
| Were a foolish thing to do, | |
| For don’t you see that you can’t cook me, | |
| While I can—and will—cook you!’ | |
| |
| “So he boils the water, and takes the salt | |
| And the pepper in portions true | 70 |
| (Which he never forgot), and some chopped shalot, | |
| And some sage and parsley too. | |
| |
| “‘Come here,’ says he, with a proper pride, | |
| Which his smiling features tell; | |
| ‘’T will soothing be if I let you see | 75 |
| How extremely nice you ’ll smell.’ | |
| |
| “And he stirred it round, and round, and round, | |
| And he sniffed at the foaming froth; | |
| When I ups with his heels, and smothers his squeals | |
| In the scum of the boiling broth. | 80 |
| |
| “And I eat that cook in a week or less, | |
| And as I eating be | |
| The last of his chops, why I almost drops, | |
| For a wessel in sight I see. * * * * * | |
| “And I never larf, and I never smile, | 85 |
| And I never lark nor play; | |
| But I sit and croak, and a single joke | |
| I have—which is to say: | |
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| “O, I am a cook and a captain bold | |
| And the mate of the Nancy brig, | 90 |
| And a bo’sun tight, and a midshipmite, | |
| And the crew of the captain’s gig!” | |
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