The lad had a face bright and sunny,
An' a pair of blue eyes like a girl's,
An' looks up at the scowling first mate, boys,
An' shakes back his long shining curls.
An' says he in a voice clear and pretty,
"My stepfather brought me a-board,
And hid me away down the stairs there,
For to keep me he could not afford.
And he told me the big ship would take me
To Halifax town, oh, so far;
An' he said, 'Now the Lord is your Father,
Who lives where the good angels are!'"
"It's a lie," says the mate,--"Not your father,
But some o' these big skulkers here,
Some milk-hearted, soft-headed sailor,
Speak up! tell the truth! d'ye hear?"
Then that pair o' blue eyes bright and winn'n',
Clear and shining with innocent youth,
Looks up at the mate's bushy eyebrows,
An' says he, "Sir, I've told you the truth!"
Then the mate pull'd his watch from his pocket,
Just as if he'd bin drawing his knife,
"If in ten minutes more you don't tell, lad,
There's the rope! and good-bye to dear life!"
Eight minutes went by all in silence,
Says the mate then, "Speak, lad, say your say!"
His eyes slowly filling with tear-drops,
He falteringly says, "May I pray?"
An' the little chap kneels on the deck there,
An' his hands he clasps o'er his breast,
As he must ha' done often at home, lads,
At night time when going to rest.
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