And here they stay’d a day or two,
Until the ships were out of view,
And on the fish well did they fare,
Although their lodging was but bare,
An old hut, like a swine’s stye
Which fishers us’d to occupy:
They had no bed but heathry feal,
The hut’s roof cover’d with the sail.
They roasted fish and brandy drank,
No host they had to pay or thank.