A GREAT while ago, there was a school-boy.

He lived in a cottage by the sea.

And the very first thing he could remember

Was the rigging of the schooners by the quay.

He could watch them, when he woke, from his window,

With the tall cranes hoisting out the freight.

And he used to think of shipping as a sea-cook,

And sailing to the Golden Gate.

For he used to buy the yellow penny dreadfuls,

And read them where he fished for conger eels,

And listened to the lapping of the water,

The green and oily water round the keels.

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There were trawlers with their shark-mouthed flat-fish,

And red nets hanging out to dry,

And the skate the skipper kept because he liked ’em,

And landsmen never knew the fish to fry.

There were brigantines with timber out of Norroway,

Oozing with the syrups of the pine.

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