So overboard a keg of nails
And anvils three we threw,
Likewise four bales of gunny-sacks,
Two hundred pounds of glue,
Two sacks of corn, four ditto wheat,
A box of books, a cow,
A violin, Lord Byron's works,
A rip-saw and a sow.
A curve! a curve; the dangers grow!
"Labbord!—stabbord!—s-t-e-a-d-y!—so!—
Hard-a.-port, Dol!—hellum-a-lee!
Haw the head mule!—the aft one gee!
Luff!—bring her to the wind!"
For straight a farmer brought a plank,—
(Mysteriously inspired)—
And laying it unto the ship,
In silent awe retired.
Then every sufferer stood amazed
That pilot man before;
A moment stood. Then wondering turned,
And speechless walked ashore.
TIM KEYSER'S NOSE.
BY MAX ADELER.
Tim Keyser lived at Wilmington,
He had a monstrous nose,
Which was a great deal redder
Than the very reddest rose,
And was completely capable
Of most terrific blows.
He wandered down one Christmas-day
To skate upon the creek,
And there upon the smoothest ice
He slid along so slick,
The people were amazed to see
Him cut it up so quick;
The exercise excited thirst,
And so, to get a drink,
He cut an opening in the ice,
And lay down on the brink.
Says he, "I'll dip my nose right in,
And sip it up, I think."
But while his nose was thus immersed
Six inches in the stream,
A very hungry pickerel
Was attracted by the gleam,
And darting up, it gave a snap,
And Keyser gave a scream.
Tim Keyser then was well assured
He had a famous bite;
To pull that pickerel up he tried,
And tugged with all his might;
But the disgusting pickerel had
The better of the fight.