She was cranky an' foul, she was stubborn an' slow (Let 'er go--let 'er go), An' she shipped it green when it come on to blow; 'Er crews was starved an' their wage was low, An 'er bloomin' owners was ready to faint At a scrape o' pitch or a penn'orth o' paint. (Let 'er go!) But she's been 'ere an' she's been there (Let 'er go--let 'er go), An' she's been almost everywhere; An' wherever you went you'd sure see _'er_, With 'er rust-red hawse an' 'er battered old funnel, All muck an' dirt from 'er keel to 'er gun'le. (Let 'er go!) She's earned 'er keep in a number o' climes (Let 'er go--let 'er go); She's changed 'er name a number o' times, Which won't fit right into these 'ere rhymes, But the name of 'er now is the _Sound o' Mull_, Built on the Tyne an' sails out of 'Ull. (Let 'er go!) 'Er keel was laid in 'seventy-four (Let 'er go--let 'er go), An' a breaker's price was 'er price before The ships was scarce an' the freights did soar; But she's fetched 'er fourteen pound a ton On the Baltic Exchange since the War begun. (Let 'er go!) So she's doin' 'er bit, which we all must do (Let 'er go--let 'er go), An' whether she's old or whether she's new Don't make much odds to a war-time crew, But 'ooever's sunk or 'ooever's drowned, The _Sound o' Mull_ keeps pluggin' around. (Let 'er go!) An' when she goes, by night or by day (Let 'er go--let 'er go), Either up or down, as she likely may, I only 'ope as someone'll say: "'Er keel was laid in 'seventy-four; She done 'er best an' she couldn't do more; She warn't no swell an' she warn't no beauty, But she come by 'er end in the way of 'er duty." (Let 'er go!) C. F. S. * * * * * [Illustration: "THINK WE'LL 'AVE ANOTHER CUT AT THE 'UNS BEFORE THE WAR ENDS, JACK?" "NO FEAR! IT SAYS 'ERE THAT 'INDENBURG'S TAKEN ALL THE ABLE-BODIED AN' PUT 'EM ON TO WORK OF NATIONAL IMPORTANCE."] * * * * * THE POULTICE. Call this cold? You orter been with me in '63, when I was whalin' in the North Atlantic. I was steward on the _Ella Wheeler_, 6,000 tons, out from New Caledonia. Our skipper was a reg'lar old bluenose, and some Tartar, I _don't_ think! Why, 'e'd lay yer out sooner than look at yer; an' once 'e put the cook in irons for two days 'cos the poor devil 'ad tumbled up against the side of the galley an' burnt the 'air off the side of 'is 'ead, and the old man said it was untidy; and we all 'ad to 'ave cold grub for two days--and in them latitudes! Lord, 'ow we 'ated 'im!