THE MERMAN
Then another man said when that song was sung:
There are men like you and me,
Who will sometimes come ashore and get sprung,
Yet who live at the bottom of the sea.
For I myself knew one of that folk
(I believe he still lives and thrives),
And I’ll tell you the truth without any joke
How we saved one another’s blest lives.
I was walking one night in New York town,
And the moon shone bright and clear,
When I thought I heard a singular sound
That came from a board-yard near.
First was a groan of misery,
And then a scythe of pain;
And a voice which wailed: “Oh where is the Sea?
Which I never shall see again?”
And I thought that party must be cracked,
Or a little over the bay;
Because the water was not, in fact,
A half of a mile away.
So I looked that sufferin’ mortal up,
And found, sufficiently soon,
A man who looked like a perishin’ pup,
As he lay in the light of the moon.
And I said to him, “Matey, just confess
What all of this row’s about,
And what was it got you into this mess,
And how can I get you out?”
Then this man he opened his eyes so wide:
“No more do I ask of thee
Than to carry me down to the water’s side,
And chuck me right into the sea.”
And I says, “ ’Tis a singular thing to ask,
But I think it can be no sin,
And anyhow ’tis an easy task
To carry and pitch you in.”
So I picked that perishin’ person up,
And slewed him on my back,
And he wriggled and moved with many a flup
Like a codfish or a jack.
But when I had carried him half the way,
He seemed to be half-way done,
And when we had got ’longside of the bay,
I guessed that his life was gone.
But when he heard the water splash,
He opened his eyes—you bet!
And said: “If you only will make a dash—
Good Lord! there’s a chance for me yet!”
And when we came to the water’s edge,
I never a word did say,
But carried him right to the end of the Ledge,
And dumped him into the Bay.
And then he gin a yell of delight,
And then he warbled a tune,
As he swam about in the water bright,
All there in the light of the moon.
And he hollered to me his partin’ thanks,
And said: “I am outer my pain;
Good-bye! I’m off for the ’Foundland Banks;
Some day we shall meet again.”
Now when a year had passed I found
Myself in a Southern sea,
A-wrecked; for all on board were drowned,
And nobody saved but me.
And as I sat upon the turf,
And looked at the water blue,
A man came walking out of the surf,
And says to me: “How do you do?
“I think you don’t remember me,
Allow me to let you know
I’m the fellow that you threw into the sea—
In New York—a year ago.
“My home is down in the Ocean deep,
And sometimes—would you think?
I go ashore when men are asleep
To a tavern to take a drink.
“My mother was a mermaid fair,
She lived down in the sea;
And my father he was a Dutch sailór,
So it came that I am what I be.
“And I can walk about on land
Until my clothes are dry,
But that brings up to the end of my sand,
For then I must surely die:
“And my soul sail off for Doldrum Isle,
Unless some one pities my pain,
And carries me down where the waters bile,
And puts me in ’em again.
“One turn deserves another, ahoy!
And John must settle with Jack;
You treated me like a brother, old boy
And now I will pay you back.
“In this bag there is more than a thousand pound,
And I give it all to you:
In a Spanish galloon that money I found,
(It’s a thing which I frequently do).
“But in this place you’d be sure to spile,
So now I will give you a tip:
Just walk to the other side of this isle,
And there you will find a ship.
“You’ll find her there as sure as you’re born;
Her name is the Clara Belle,
She sails for Havanna in the morn,
So, matey—fare-you-well!
“Farewell—for here I cannot bide.”
He turned his back to the shore,
And walked right into the risin’ tide,
And I never beheld him more.
So we never should doubt of a mystery,
There are lots of ’em round us still;
For nobody knows what’s down in the sea,
And nobody ever will.
Said Brown, “That story now goes home to me.
Folks say a witch, a wizard, and a Finn,
Are all jint partners in all deviltry,
The Devil himself of course bein’ counted in;
And of these Northern conjurers I can sing
A song if you will join me in the chorus.
First take your drinks—that is the prudent thing,
We never know in life what lies before us.”
Which having done, himself he did begin
The wondrous ballad of the “Wizard Finn.”