Come those words to ear of culprit, Never taught to seek their lessons, Never taught to know their meaning!) Dreamed he saw the fatal gibbet, Dreamed he saw the upturned faces Of the multitude below him; Dreamed he felt Jack Ketch's fingers Busy round his neck, adjusting Noose of rope that was to hang him Like a dog, not human creature! Dreamed that in that awful moment, Came a shout, a cry, a calling; Dreamed he heard "Reprieve!" loud shouted. Dreamed he heard of transportation Being his commuted sentence. This last thought possessed him wholly When he woke, and found he'd dreamed all. Grave he pondered, till it struck him, That he'd carry out the substance Of that portion of his dreaming, Where he felt relieved from terror. He resolved to seek his fortune In a fresh new scene of action; He determined on the scheme of Nothing less than transportation, Voluntary transportation, Willing, prompt, self-transportation, Most transporting transportation,-- In words other,--emigration. And he said to mother Norah, To his wife his Minnie Wather, Better half, his Frisky-Whisky, "I've made up my mind to try and Live a new life, life more dacent; So let's go and try what turns up In the New World over yonder." On the deck stood Drop o' Wather, Turned and waved his hat at parting; On the deck of the good vessel, Outward bound for the long voyage, Stood and waved his hat at parting From the dear old Mother Country. * * * * * Then a pause; and then he shouted, Shouted loudly Drop o' Wather: "Southward! Southward! now then, Southward!" And the ship went sailing forward On her way of trust and promise, Southward, southward; Drop o' Wather Looking steadfastly before him, As confronting firm the future. And his people gave a loud cheer, Just to cheer him up at parting, As the ship sailed southward, southward; And they cried, "Good-bye, my boy, then! Good bye, Norah! Good-bye, Minnie! Take good care of yourselves, darlints! Let us know how you all get on! Best of all good luck go wid' ye! So God bless ye! and God speed ye!" Thus departed Drop o' Wather, Drop o' Wather, the fine fellow, With his trust of doing better, With, at least, that firm intention. To the regions of the New World, Of the Bay entitled Bot'ny, To the Island of New Holland, To another "New" New South Wales, To the land of hope, Australia! This clever parody is followed by amusing burlesque notes, the first of which thus explains the origin of _The Song of Drop o' Wather_.