“Temper! No wonder that the creature had A temper so uncommon bad! She’s just confessed to Doctor Griper That being out of Rum, and like denials, Which always was prodigious trials,-- Because she couldn’t pay the piper, She went one day, she did, to Master’s wials, And drunk the spirit as preserved the Wiper!” THE CAPTAIN’S COW. A ROMANCE OF THE IRON AGE. “Water, water everywhere, But not a drop to drink.”--COLERIDGE. It is a jolly Mariner As ever knew the billows’ stir, Or battled with the gale; His face is brown, his hair is black, And down his broad gigantic back There hangs a platted tail. In clusters, as he rolls along, His tarry mates around him throng, Who know his budget well; Betwixt Canton and Trinidad No Sea-Romancer ever had Such wondrous tales to tell! Against the mast he leans a-slope, And thence upon a coil of rope Slides down his pitchy “starn;” Heaves up a lusty hem or two, And then at once without ado Begins to spin his yarn:-- “As from Jamaica we did come, Laden with sugar, fruit and rum, It blew a heavy gale: A storm that scar’d the oldest men For three long days and nights, and then The wind began to fail. “Still less and less, till on the mast The sails began to flap at last, The breezes blew so soft; Just only now and then a puff, Till soon there was not wind enough To stir the vane aloft. “No, not a cat’s paw anywhere: Hold up your finger in the air You couldn’t feel a breath For why, in yonder storm that burst, The wind that blew so hard at first Had blown itself to death. “No cloud aloft to throw a shade; No distant breezy ripple made The ocean dark below. No cheering sign of any kind; The more we whistled for the wind The more it did not blow. “The hands were idle, one and all; No sail to reef against a squall; No wheel, no steering now! Nothing to do for man or mate, But chew their cuds and ruminate, Just like the Captain’s Cow. “Day after day, day after day, Becalm’d the Jolly Planter lay, As if she had been moor’d: The sea below, the sky a-top Fierce blazing down, and not a drop Of water left aboard! “Day after day, day after day, Becalm’d the Jolly Planter lay, As still as any log; The Parching seamen stood about, Each with his tongue a-lolling out, And panting like a dog-- “A dog half mad with summer heat And running up and down the street, By thirst quite overcome; And not a drop in all the ship To moisten cracking tongue and lip, Except Jamaica rum!