“What’s that that walks the gunwale?” cried
A sailor leaning o’er the side.
The Captain raised his glass. Said he—
“A kitten! Some one’s pet, maybe!
We’ll give it passage in ‘The Foam’”—
Soft is the heart that’s bound for home!
“Stop for a kitten?” growled the mate:—
“Look to the sun; we’re getting late!
If we lose this tack we’ll lie to-night
A long ways off o’ Kingsport Light.”