3
But ere I left, greeted the rails,
To ask condition of their sails
To C. O. S.; the first seen in the way
Presented a petit boquet,
His sails were white, his sails were torn,
The three day’s storm had made him brown—
Promised after he’d repair’ed his hull,
Would call and see if meeting null;
I then hied to the house first said,
To breakfast, dine, or to be fed;
Indeed, had the pleasure to feed
Kind Blodget, of both he had need;
He did hawk this high up street,
Four quarters of Camden beef,
Helped him sell at $212 per pound,
Purchaser taking it all around;
The male landlord’s would stuff your ears,
There had been nothing to eat for three years,
And openly charge $30 per day,
Half feed, and tend to get you away.
In the country, but not the city,
For strangers, some have little pity;
Big notes are shucks, little ones too,
A five dollar note breakfast for two;
True, my landlady for your board,
Takes fives at their face she does’nt hoard;
For me and herself what’s better still,
For my extra meal a five dollar bill,
For ev’ry sea of trouble there’s a green spot,
A hoven or island, it matters not,
Untenanted by pirates or other vermin,
