"My tale's all true, young gentlemen,"
The fond old boatman cried
Unto the sullen, angry lads,
Who vain obedience tried:
"Mind what your father says to you,
And don't go out this tide.
"Just such a shiny sea as this,
Smooth as a pond, you'd say,
And white gulls flying, and the crafts
Down Channel making way;
And the Isle of Wight, all glittering bright,
Seen clear from Swanage Bay.
"The Battery Point, the Race beyond,
Just as to-day you see;
This was, I think, the very stone
Where sat Dick, Dolly, and me;
She was our little sister, sirs,
A small child, just turned three.
"And Dick was mighty fond of her:
Though a big lad and bold,
He'd carry her like any nurse,
Almost from birth, I'm told;
For mother sickened soon, and died
When Doll was eight months old.
"We sat and watched a little boat,
Her name the 'Tricksy Jane,'
A queer old tub laid up ashore,
But we could see her plain.
To see her and not haul her up
Cost us a deal of pain.
"Said Dick to me, 'Let's have a pull;
Father will never know:
He's busy in his wheat up there,
And cannot see us go;
These landsmen are such cowards if
A puff of wind does blow.
"'I've been to France and back three times—
Who knows best, dad or me,
Whether a ship's seaworthy or not?
Dolly, wilt go to sea?'
And Dolly laughed and hugged him tight,
As pleased as she could be.
"I don't mean, sirs, to blame poor Dick:
What he did, sure I'd do;
And many a sail in 'Tricksy Jane'
We'd had when she was new.
Father was always sharp; and what
He said, he meant it too.
"But now the sky had not a cloud,
The bay looked smooth as glass;
Our Dick could manage any boat,
As neat as ever was.
And Dolly crowed, 'Me go to sea!'
The jolly little lass!
"Well, sirs, we went: a pair of oars;
My jacket for a sail:
Just round 'Old Harry and his Wife'—
Those rocks there, within hail;
And we came back.——D'ye want to hear
The end o' the old man's tale?