The skipper he blubbered an’ grabbed a fin an’
gave it a hearty shake;
Says he, “Old man, don’t lay it up an’ we’ll
have a drop to take.”
An’, actin’ by orders, the cook fetched up our
kag of good old rum;
The shark he had his drink poured first, an’ all
of us then took some.
Still actin’ by orders, the cook he took an’ he
picked them stitches out,