At foot he struck and grounded on his bed.
There careening thus he lay,
His final bilge expecting every day,
Heaven took his ballast from his dreary hold,
And left his body destitute of soul.”
Every islander knows the story of the Nantucket skipper who claimed that he could always tell where his ship was by the color and taste of the lead after sounding. Marden, his mate, on one trip determined to fool him, and for this purpose brought some dirt from a neighbor’s garden in Nantucket. He woke up the skipper one morning off Cape Horn, and showed him the lead, which had been smeared with this dirt, whereupon, to quote the words of James Thomas Fields,—
“The skipper stormed and tore his hair,
Hauled on his boots and roared to Marden:
‘Nantucket’s sunk, and here we are
Right over old Marm Hackett’s garden!’”