THE MERMAN
Then another man said when that song was sung:
There are men like you and me,
Who will sometimes come and sprung,
Yet who live at the of the sea.
For I myself one of that folk
(I he still and thrives),
And I’ll tell you the truth without any joke
How we saved one another’s lives.
I was walking one night in New York town,
And the moon and clear,
When I I a sound
That came from a board-yard near.
First was a of misery,
And then a of pain;
And a voice which wailed: “Oh where is the Sea?
Which I shall see again?”
And I that party must be cracked,
Or a little over the bay;
Because the water was not, in fact,
A of a mile away.
So I looked that sufferin’ up,
And found, soon,
A man who looked like a perishin’ pup,
As he in the light of the moon.
And I said to him, “Matey, just confess
What all of this row’s about,
And what was it got you into this mess,
And how can I you out?”
Then this man he opened his so wide:
“No more do I ask of thee
Than to me to the water’s side,
And me right into the sea.”
And I says, “ ’Tis a thing to ask,
But I think it can be no sin,
And ’tis an easy task
To and you in.”
So I that perishin’ person up,
And him on my back,
And he and moved with many a flup
Like a or a jack.
But when I had him the way,
He to be half-way done,
And when we had got ’longside of the bay,
I that his life was gone.
But when he the water splash,
He opened his eyes—you bet!
And said: “If you only will make a dash—
Good Lord! there’s a for me yet!”
And when we came to the water’s edge,
I a word did say,
But him right to the end of the Ledge,
And him into the Bay.
And then he a of delight,
And then he a tune,
As he about in the water bright,
All there in the light of the moon.
And he to me his partin’ thanks,
And said: “I am my pain;
Good-bye! I’m off for the ’Foundland Banks;
Some day we shall meet again.”
Now when a year had passed I found
Myself in a Southern sea,
A-wrecked; for all on were drowned,
And nobody saved but me.
And as I sat upon the turf,
And looked at the water blue,
A man came walking out of the surf,
And says to me: “How do you do?
“I think you don’t me,
Allow me to let you know
I’m the that you into the sea—
In New York—a year ago.
“My home is in the Ocean deep,
And sometimes—would you think?
I go when men are asleep
To a to take a drink.
“My mother was a fair,
She in the sea;
And my father he was a Dutch sailór,
So it came that I am what I be.
“And I can walk about on land
Until my are dry,
But that up to the end of my sand,
For then I must surely die:
“And my sail off for Doldrum Isle,
Unless some one my pain,
And me where the bile,
And puts me in ’em again.
“One turn another, ahoy!
And John must settle with Jack;
You me like a brother, old boy
And now I will pay you back.
“In this there is more than a thousand pound,
And I give it all to you:
In a Spanish that money I found,
(It’s a thing which I do).
“But in this place you’d be sure to spile,
So now I will give you a tip:
Just walk to the other of this isle,
And there you will a ship.
“You’ll her there as sure as you’re born;
Her name is the Clara Belle,
She for Havanna in the morn,
So, matey—fare-you-well!
“Farewell—for here I cannot bide.”
He his to the shore,
And walked right into the risin’ tide,
And I him more.
So we should of a mystery,
There are of ’em us still;
For nobody what’s in the sea,
And nobody will.
Said Brown, “That now goes home to me.
Folks say a witch, a wizard, and a Finn,
Are all partners in all deviltry,
The Devil himself of bein’ in;
And of these Northern I can sing
A song if you will join me in the chorus.
First take your drinks—that is the thing,
We know in life what us.”
Which having done, himself he did begin
The of the “Wizard Finn.”
