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He'll take you round to Macassar, and you'll come

back alone; He knows what I want o' the Mary. I'll do

what I please with my own. Your mother 'ud call it wasteful, but I've seven

and-thirty more; I'll come in my private carriage and bid it wait at

the door. For my son 'e was never a credit: 'e muddled

with books and art, And 'e lived on Sir Anthony's money and 'e broke

Sir Anthony's heart. There isn't even a grandchild, and the Gloster

family's doneThe only one you left me, O mother, the only

one! Harrer an’ Trinity College! Me slavin' early an'

late, An' he thinks I'm dyin' crazy, and you're in Ma

cassar Strait! Flesh o' my flesh, my dearie, for ever an' ever

amen, That first stroke come for a warning; I ought to

ha' gone to you then, But-cheap repairs for a cheap 'un—the doctors Mary, why didn't you warn me? I've allus heeded

said I'd do:

to you,

Excep'-I know-about women; but you are a

spirit now; An', wife, they was only women, and I was a man.

That's how. An' a man 'e must go with a woman, as you could

not understard; But I never talked 'em secrets. I paid 'em out o'

hand. Thank Gawd, I can pay for my fancies! Now

what's five thousand to me, For a berth off the Paternosters in the haven where

I would be ? I believe in the Resurrection, if I read my Bible

plain, But I wouldn't trust 'em at Wokin'; we're safer at

sea again. For the heart it shall go with the treasure-go

down to the sea in ships. I'm sick of the hired women-I'll kiss my girl on

her lips! I'll be content with my fountain, I'll drink from my

own well, And the wife of my youth shall charm me--an' the

rest can go to Hell !

(Dickie, he will, that's certain.) l'll lie in our

standin'-bed, An' Mac'll take her in ballast- and she trims best

by the head. . . Down by the head an' sinkin'. Her fires are drawn

and cold, And the water's splashin' hollow on the skin of

the empty holdChurning an' choking and chuckling, quiet and

scummy and darkFull to her lower hatches and risin' steady.

Hark! That was the after-bulkhead.. she's flooded

from stem to stern. Never seen death yet, Dickie ? Well, now is

your time to learn!

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SESTINA OF THE TRAMP-ROYAL.

SPEAKIN' in general, I 'ave tried 'em all,
The 'appy roads that take you o'er the world.
Speakin' in general, I 'ave found them good
For such as cannot use one bed too long,
But must get 'ence, the same as I ’ave done,
An' go observin' matters till they die.

What do it matter where or ’ow we die,
So long as we've our 'ealth to watch it all-
The different ways that different things are done,
An' men an' women lovin' in this world
Takin' our chances as they come along,
An' when they ain't, pretendin' they are good ?

Unless you

In cash or credit-no, it ain't no good;
You ’ave to 'ave the 'abit or you'd die,

life but one day long,
Nor didn't prophesy nor fret at all,
But drew your tucker some'ow from the world,
An’ never bothered what you might ha' done.

lived your

But, Gawd, what things are they l'aven't done?
I've turned my 'and to most, an' turned it good,
In various situations round the world-
For 'im that doth not work must surely die;
But that's no reason man should labour all
'Is life on one same shift; life's none so long.

Therfore, from job to job I've moved along.
Pay couldn't 'old me when my time was done,
For something in my 'ead upset me all,
Till I 'ad dropped whatever 'twas for good,
An', out at sea, be'eld the dock-lights die,
An' met my mate—the wind that tramps the world.

It's like a book, I think, this bloomin' world,
Which you can read and care for just so long,
But presently you feel that you will die
Unless you get the page you're readin' done,
An' turn another—likely not so good;
But what you're after is to turn 'em all.

Gawd bless this world! Whatever she 'ath done-
Excep' when awful long—I've found it good.
So write, before I die, “ 'E liked it all!"

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