Snarleyyow, or, the Dog Fiend. Фредерик Марриет

cutter's mast, and, as the snow fell, sang, to a slow air, the following ditty, it probably being called to his recollection by the state of the weather.

      'Twas at the landing-place that's just below Mount Wyse,

       Poll leaned against the sentry's box, a tear in both her eyes,

       Her apron twisted round her arms, all for to keep them warm,

       Being a windy Christmas-day, and also a snow-storm.

      And Bet and Sue

      Both stood there too,

      A-shivering by her side,

      They both were dumb,

      And both looked glum,

      As they watched the ebbing tide.

      Poll put her arms a-kimbo,

      At the admiral's house looked she,

      To thoughts before in limbo,

      She now a vent gave free.

      You have sent the ship in a gale to work,

      On a lee shore to be jammed,

      I'll give you a piece of my mind, old Turk,

      Port Admiral, you be d----d.

      Chorus.--We'll give you a piece of our mind, old Turk,

      Port Admiral, you be d----d.

      Who ever heard in the sarvice of a frigate made to sail

       On Christmas-day, it blowing hard, with sleet, and snow, and hail?

       I wish I had the fishing of your back that is so bent,

       I'd use the galley poker hot unto your heart's content.