IV.
Our foes subdued, once more on shore,
We spend our cash with glee, Sir,
And when all’s gone, we drown our care,
And out again to sea, Sir.
Yeo, yeo, yeo—Yeo, yeo, yeo.
And when all’s gone, again to sea,
With a yeo, yeo, yeo, Sir.
Pick. So this is the way I am to be entertained in future, with forecastle jokes, and tarpauling songs.
Miss P. Brother, do not speak so harshly to the poor lad, he’s among strangers, and wants encouragement—come to me, my pretty boy, I’ll be your friend——