The ship was passing from view;
And he sprang to the top of a rocky ledge,
And pranced like a kangaroo.
He watched till the vessel became a speck
That was lost in the wandering sea,
And then, at the risk of breaking his neck,
Turned somersaults home to tea.
From The San Francisco News Letter.
Mr. Parke, being a good natured man, might not, perhaps, have objected to the theft of his poem, but the mutilations must have been galling to his feelings.
He has since republished the poem, with some alterations to fit it for music, in “Patter Poems, humourous and serious.” London, Vizetelly and Co.