The Story of Jack, the Hermit of the White Mountains

ISBN: 9781333414023 出版年：2018 页码：33 James E Mitchell Forgotten Books

Aye, sir! These summer days when travelers come And laugh and joke here in my humble ship, And ask me why I made this place my home, 'tis but the dregs, another bitter sip, Beg pardon, though, I'm steering wild, I guess, So now I'll start upon the other tack; I may sheer off a few points more or less, But save your patience and I'll steer right back. My parents died when I was twelve years old, In London I was left without a friend, My whole possessions were one pound in gold And hopes that Fate would something better send. I scorned the institutions that were free, And feared that I might yet be sent to school My whole ambition was to go to sea, I went, — and there is where I played the fool. Barefooted, with my bundle I would trot For days and days around the London docks; Do you want a boy, sir? And all I got For answer was hard words and harder knocks. At last one day when hope was almost dead, And tired and homesick I sat down to cry, A little girl came toddling up, and said: Don't cry, poor boy, you 's lost and so is I. And so she was, the bonny little dear; Her eyes were blue, her hair like shining gold. She'd Come to look for daddy's ship down here, Her name was Mary, and just five years old.