A sailor, too, in jerkin blue,
This strange appearance viewing,
First damned his eyes, in great surprise,
Then said, “Some mischief’s brewing.
“These kegs, I’m told, the rebles hold,
Packed up like pickled herring;
And they’re come down to attack the town,
In this new way of ferrying.”
The soldier flew, the sailor too,
And scared almost to death, sir,