Bab Ballads and Savoy Songs. William Schwenck Gilbert

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      'Twas 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.

      His hair was weedy, his beard was long,

      And weedy and long was he,

      And I heard this wight on the shore recite,

      In a singular minor key:

      "Oh, I am 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."

      And he shook his fists and he tore his hair.

      Till I really felt afraid;

      For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking,

      And so I simply said:

      "Oh, 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

      "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

      Is a trick all seamen larn,

      And having got rid of a thumping quid,

      He spun this painful yarn:

      "'Twas in the good ship Nancy Bell

      That we sailed to the Indian sea,

      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

      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.

      "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,

      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;

      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,

      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.

      "'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

      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

      (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,

      How extremely nice you'll smell,'

      "And he stirred it round and round and round,

      And he sniffed the foaming froth;

      When I ups with his heels, and smothers his squeals

      In the scum of the boiling broth.

      "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,

      And I never lark nor play,

      But I sit and croak, and a single joke

      I have—which is to say:

      "Oh, I am 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!"

      Of all the ships upon the blue,

      No ship contained a better crew

      Than that of worthy Captain Reece.

      Commanding of The Mantelpiece.

      He was adored by all his men,

      For worthy Captain Reece, R.N.,

      Did all that lay within him to

      Promote the comfort of his crew.

      If ever they were dull or sad,

      Their captain danced to them like mad,

      Or told, to make the time pass by,

      Droll legends of his infancy.

      A feather bed had every man,

      Warm slippers and hot-water can,

      Brown windsor from the captain's store,

      A valet, too, to every four.

      Did they with thirst in summer burn?

      Lo, seltzogenes at every turn.

      And on all very sultry days

      Cream ices handed round on trays.

      Then currant wine and ginger pops

      Stood handily on all the "tops:"

      And, also, with amusement rife,

      A "Zoetrope, or Wheel of Life."

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