Classic Poem

A BOUT THE YEAR of one B. C.,
A gallant ship set out to sea,
To catch a whale and salt his tail,
To salt the end of his tail.

But when about a mile from shore
The ship began to dance,
Then every son of a sailorman,
Put on his working pants,
His pants, his pants, his working pants.

And down into the hold they went,
And over the pumps their backs they bent.
They pumped and pumped,
They thought they would drown,
The deck was too wet to sit down.

Then up spoke Mike O'Flaherty,
There's a Jonah on the boat, sez he;
So off they ran from Mike to Dan,
To find the Jonah Man.

And when upon the deck they came,
His “Nibs” a-smiling sat—
A-lighting a paper cigarette
In the crown of his derby hat,
His hat, his hat, his derby hat.

So they gave a whoop and they gave a yell
And overboard poor Jonah fell.
Sez Mike to Jim, “'Tis better for him—
'Tis certainly better for him.”

Just then a monster whale passed by,
And Jonah's trousers caught his eye.
“As I'm a goat, there's a lunch afloat,”
And he swallowed him into his throat.

Just about then the whale felt ill,
Sez he, “That lunch was poor,
For, judging by the way I feel,
I've swallowed a Jonah sure,
A Jonah, a Jonah, a Jonah sure.”

Then Mike McGinty gave a call,
And he coughed up Jonah, pants and all,
'Twas on the spot ('tis not forgot),
McGinty's corner lot.