An’ you’ll never get a Banksman on the Mary
any more.
No—no—no!
Not a man will go,
For her towage fee hain’t settled till the Wah-
hooh-wow takes four.
She’s ashore in Gloucester harbor with a
weary, leary list,
An’ the mud is creepin’, creepin’ to her rail;
She’s sound in ev’ry timber—is the Mary of