I top the white waves, or laugh in great glee,
As a ducking I get when they top over me.
And I think, oh! how jolly my master must feel,
With the rain at his back, and the mud at his heel!
I’m a float! I’m a float! and I’m fair on the job,
If the fishes below only give me a bob!
Sometimes, when the water’s not “soupy” in tint,
At the pebbly bottom I take a sly squint;
And then, if I see a big scaly’un look
With a half-doubting eye at the worm-covered hook,