DRAW-BRIDGES.
II.
Our John was a sailor, Sailor John,
A grizzly old sailor of Provincetown Bay,
And one queer old tale that he used to tell
By the bright fire-dogs to the boys now gone,
And the fisher-folk—I remember well.
He would tell it to us in his odd old way,
After the revels on Christmas Day,
And at evening after the hours of play.