Classic Poem

A HAPPENING TO THE " HILDEGARD. "

The " Hildegard " she had sprung a knee,
Or a rib, perhaps —
(The nomenclatter does n't much matter
Aboard of a yacht when they spring — who knows what?
And the thingum-bob-stay has been carried away —
And never brought back — by the what's-its-name tack;
And with implied hitches atideal breeches,
The tar late so jolly growls gruffly, " By golly! "
Or, " Shiver my timbers, there 's a leak in the limbers! "
But this is a lapse:
Starting fresh from " perhaps " ) —
Something that laps and stops up gaps —
Rib, knuckle, or knee —
Gave way, and no longer'd — d out the sea
(That 's not the word quite that we dash out of sight,
But I blanked it, you see, lest the editor might),
Which now with a din came rushing in,
Drowning the gin, —
Metamorphosing Chateau into singularly flat eau, —
Dampening sheets, ruining meats,
And cheeses and chintzes fit for Kron Prinzes,
Filling with water everything fillable
(Till even Schiedam was n't worth its last syllable);
Very little the wonder that our skipper said, " Thunder! "
(Thought perhaps something harder as he looked at the larder)
And sent a hand — and two feet — up the mast
To hail the first pump or packet that passed
(With that hole in the bow our bark was bow-wow).
But never a ghost of picket or post
Hove up on our view, — though we heaved all we knew.
Nothing showed up, in fine, but abundance of brine,
Which now came in thicker (spoiling more liquor),
Till it certainly looked that our goose was cooked,
And that crew and passengers all were booked.
When just at this juncture, — when the horrible puncture
In our starboard knee (which admitted the sea)
Gaped wider and wider, showing all inside her,
And 't was just on our lips that we 'd pass in our chips, —
From aloft came the hail, " Sail ho! ho! a sail! "
(Why they always say " ho, " I really don't know;
But it seems to be a way of the sea)
And of course to the stranger we signalled our danger, —
To show him our leek set an onion at the peak;
And that more they might guess at our terrible stress,
From a port-hole we showed her a case once filled with " Roederer. "
She was sailing close-hauled, but aghast and appalled,
When they made out our case there was changing of base:
" At the sheets! are you ready? Now keep her off — steady! "
And with the wind free down she ran on our lee.
" Ahoy! " said she, and " Ahoy! " said we
(They always begin in that fashion at sea).
And then with insistence they offered assistance.

" Since you must be fed, why, I 'll board you, " she said.
" Or if that does n't gee, then you may board me.
All my windows are bay, and they look on the sea.
The one thing you 'll miss, to round out your bliss
And make it supreme, is just a little beam! "

Now when our stout skipper, with a glass in his flipper,
From a sort of a trestle made out that strange vessel,
" Great Scott! " we heard him mutter, " it 's just a blamed cutter!
Go aboard that thing — I and my crew?
I 'll be fuller indeed (and dee deed) if I do!
Though never a man of us leaves this spot,
If we drown at all it 'll be in a YACHT ! "
None argue with Herman when he issues a firman!

That 's how we came to come home in a dory;
And I 'd feel rather hurt if you doubted my story.