We saw Its neck a-curvin’ an’ we heard Its red
tongue lick
As It drooled an’ swoofed the drippin’s, and
then, as one might pick
A ripe an’ juicy cherry, It grabbed that “con-
jer” man
An’ sank with coils a-flashin’ in the light from
old Cape Ann,
An’ we—we towed with dories till we got to
Gloucester shore—