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A Night at Dago Tom's
OH yesterday, I t’ink it was, while cruisin’ down the
street,
I met with Bill.-‘Hullo,’ he says, let’s give the
girls a treat.’
We’d red bandanas round our necks ’n’ our shrouds
new rattled down,
So we filled a ouple of Santy Cruz and cleared for
SailorTown.
We scooted south with a press of sail till we fetched
to a cabosse,
The ‘Sailor's Rest,’ by Dago Tom, alongside
‘Paddy's Goose.’
Red curtains to the windies, ay, ’n’ white sand to
the floor,
And an old blind fiddler liltin’ the tune of ‘Low-
lands no more.’
He played the ‘Shaking of the Sheets’ ’n’ the
couples did advance,
Bowing, stamping, curtsying, in the shuffling of
the dance;
The old floor rocked and quivered, so it struck be-
holders dumb,
’N’ afterwards there was sweet songs ’n’ good
Jamaikey rum.
’N’ there was many a merry yarn of many a merry
spree
Aboard the ships with royals set a-sailing on the sea,
Yarns of the hooker ‘Spindrift,’ her as had the
clipper-bow,-
‘There ain’t no ships,’ says Bill to me, ‘like that
there hooker now.’
When the old blind fiddler played the tune of
‘Pipe the Watch Below,’
The skew-eyed landlord dowsed the glim and bade
us ‘stamp’ ’n’ go,’
’N’ we linked it home, did Bill ’n’ I, adown the
scattered streets,
Until we fetched to Land o’ Nod atween the linen
sheets.
John Masefield