He spied a score of kegs or more,
Come floating down the tide, sir.
A sailor too in jerkin blue,
This strange appearance viewing,
First d—d his eyes, in great surprise,
Then said “some mischief’s brewing.
“These kegs, I‘m told, the rebels bold
Pack up like pickl’d herring;
And they’re come down t’attack the town
In this new way of ferry’ng.”