They'll give him leave, if you ask 'em and say it's business o' mine. I built three boats for the Maoris, an' very well pleased they were, An' I've known Mac since the Fifties, and Mac knew me -- and her. After the first stroke warned me I sent him the money to keep Against the time you'd claim it, committin' your dad to the deep; For you are the son o' my body, and Mac was my oldest friend, I've never asked 'im to dinner, but he'll see it out to the end. Stiff-necked Glasgow beggar, I've heard he's prayed for my soul, But he couldn't lie if you paid him, and he'd starve before he stole! He'll take the _Mary_ in ballast -- you'll find her a lively ship; And you'll take Sir Anthony Gloster, that goes on 'is wedding-trip, Lashed in our old deck-cabin with all three port-holes wide, The kick o' the screw beneath him and the round blue seas outside! Sir Anthony Gloster's carriage -- our 'ouse-flag flyin' free -- Ten thousand men on the pay-roll and forty freighters at sea! He made himself and a million, but this world is a fleetin' show, And he'll go to the wife of 'is bosom the same as he ought to go -- By the heel of the Paternosters -- there isn't a chance to mistake -- And Mac'll pay you the money as soon as the bubbles break! Five thousand for six weeks' cruising, the staunchest freighter afloat, And Mac he'll give you your bonus the minute I'm out o' the boat! He'll take you round to Macassar, and you'll come back alone; He knows what I want o' the _Mary_. . . . I'll do what I please with my own. Your mother 'ud call it wasteful, but I've seven-and-thirty more; I'll come in my private carriage and bid it wait at the door. . . . For my son 'e was never a credit: 'e muddled with books and art, And 'e lived on Sir Anthony's money and 'e broke Sir Anthony's heart. There isn't even a grandchild, and the Gloster family's done -- The only one you left me, O mother, the only one! Harrer and Trinity College -- me slavin' early an' late -- An' he thinks I'm dying crazy, and you're in Macassar Strait! Flesh o' my flesh, my dearie, for ever an' ever amen, That first stroke come for a warning; I ought to ha' gone to you then, But -- cheap repairs for a cheap 'un -- the doctors said I'd do: Mary, why didn't _you_ warn me? I've allus heeded to you, Excep' -- I know -- about women; but you are a spirit now; An', wife, they was only women, and I was a man. That's how. An' a man 'e must go with a woman, as you could not understand; But I never talked 'em secrets. I paid 'em out o' hand. Thank Gawd, I can pay for my fancies! Now what's five thousand to me, For a berth off the Paternosters in the haven where I would be? _I_ believe in the Resurrection, if I read my Bible plain, But I wouldn't trust 'em at Wokin'; we're safer at sea again. For the heart it shall go with the treasure -- go down to the sea in ships.