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The Walloping Window Blind
Charles E. Carryl (1841–1920)
A capital ship for an ocean trip
Was “The Walloping Window Blind”
No gale that blew dismayed her crew
Or troubled the captain’s mind.
The man at the wheel was taught to feel
Contempt for the wildest blow,
And it often appeared, when the weather had cleared,
That he’d been in his bunk below.
Then roll ye winds hi-ho
A-roving I will go!
I’ll stay no more on England’s shore
So let the music play.
I’m off with the morning train,
To cross the bounding main,
I’m off to my love with a boxing glove,
Ten thousand miles away.
The boatswain’s mate was very sedate,
Yet fond of amusement, too,
And he played hop-scotch with the starboard watch
While the captain tickled the crew.
And the gunner we had was apparently mad,
For he sat on the after ra – a – ail,
And fired salutes at the captain’s boots,
In the teeth of a booming gale.
The captain sat on the commodore’s hat,
And dined, in a royal way,
On toasted pigs and pickles and figs
And gunnery bread, each day.
The cook was Dutch and behaved as such,
For the diet he gave the crew – oo – oo,
Was a number of tons of hot-cross buns,
Served up with sugar and glue.
All nautical pride we laid aside,
And we ran our vessel ashore
On the Gulliby Isles, where the Poohpooh smiles,
And the ub-dugs roar.
And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge
And shot at the whistling be – e – es,
And the cinnamon bats wore water-proof hats
As they dipped in the shining sea.
On rub-bug bark, from dawn to dark,
We dined, till we all had grown
Uncommonly shrunk when a Chinese junk
Came by from the torribly zone.
She was stubby and square, but we didn’t much care,
And we cheerily put to se – e – ea,
And we left the crew of the junk to chew
The bark of the rub-bug tree.