"Well, I sits there for mor'n an hour, thinkin' hard, and terrable work I found et. At last Joe shouts across, 'Hav'ee done? Time's up'; and I told 'un I'd done purty middlin'. So us stepped amidships, and spoke out what us had made."
Caleb made a long pause.
"I should like to hear the verses, if you remember them," said Mr. Fogo.
"Should 'ee now?" Caleb asked with fine modesty. "Well, I don't mind, on'y you mus'n' expect 'em to be like Maister Moggridge's. Mine went thicky way." He recited very slowly, with a terrific rolling of syllables:—
"See her glidin' dro' the water,
Far, far away!
Many a true heart's niver to be found.
"See her glidin' dro' the water,
Far, far away!
Many a true heart's niver to be found.
"The last line alludes to my gal wot had recently e-loped wi' the Rooshan," Caleb explained.
"Was that all?"
"That was all o' mine, sir, but Joe's was p'ints better. Just listen:—"
"Fare thee well, Barnstaple steeple,—"