And turned his belly up to view and drifted off
astern.
“He rolled and sogged on a logy swell like a
nut-cake dropped in fat,
And it ’peared to all there was suthin’ wrong
with the shark we was lookin’ at.
“So the old man ordered the gig crew up, and
the bos’n piped a tune,
And away we sploshed with the mate ahead
a-grippin’ a big harpoon.