But not so. On reachin’ the tea-drinkers, Whar he trusted ter git his wish, No pillars of salt war thar; but harf of Munn’s carcass war cheng’d ter a fish!
Bob Munn soon diskiver’d it war wrongful, And, chagrin’d tuk ter the water: Becomin’ an amphibious anermal, The first mermaid war his daughter.
Two centuries have pars’d away since then; The mermaids have multerplied, And, old mariners say, it all comes from Lovin’ fish premerturely dri’d!
And, although I won’t vouch for it, they say This is why the Yankees like cod, Car’fully season’d, and salted and cur’d By the means pervided by God.
But the moral—ye see it war sinful Ter tempt the Almighty ter fast! And this story will show ye how He got The best of that Yankee at last!
Whenever ye hear tell of a mermaid Be warn’d by the sin of poor Bob, Who attempted ter stock the kerds upon His Maker, but—botch’d the job!
My Rerligion.
