An’ after a while, with a nasty smile, he giv’ a
yank an’ twist,
“Hurroo!” yells he, an’ then we see the liver
clinched in his fist.
Still actin’ by orders, the cook fetched out his
needle an’ biggest twine—
With a herrin’-bone stitch sewed up that shark,
all right an’ tight an’ fine.
We throwed him back with a mighty smack,
an’ the look as he swum away