There is a song of the pilchard fishery which is sung by the boatmen. I know of it but three verses, and I doubt if there be more.
“The cry is, ‘All up! Let us all haste away!
And like hearty good fellows we’ll row through the bay.
Haul away, my young men!
Pull away, my old blades!
For the county gives bounty
For the pilchard trades.’
“’T is the silver ‘fair maids’ that cause such a strife
’Twixt the master-seiner and his drunken wife.
Haul away, etc.