Bill Brewster

In Burke's Saloon, among the crowd, I heard Bill Brewster boasting loud, Boasting loud and boasting long A lot of longshore stiffs among. And oh! The tales Bill Brewster told About his deeds both brave and bold, And how he tamed on his last trip A tough-nut, hard-case, blue-nose ship, Damned the skipper, licked the mate, And downed a bosun twice his weight, And had 'em eating from his hand, Within a week from losing land . . . And how he'd fought a whole saloon Of jealous Dagoes, to some tune, Armed to the teeth with guns and knives, And sent 'em howling for their lives, And all because the girls, you know, They just love Bill Brewster so! And somewhere else, off his bat He'd laid out six policemen flat, - For 'Boys,' said he, 'no fetal error, But when I'm roused I'm sure a terror!' So off he swaggered with his din To find more greenhorns to take in, And all his bunch of stiffs did follow With all their mouths stretched wide to swallow The guff Bill handed 'em, like beer . . . And sure enough Bill's yarns to hear You'd think no skipper'd stand his ground For half-an-hour when Bill was round, Nor any mate that sails the sea Would dare lay hands on such as he, Nor port from Bombay to Brazil But trembles just to hear of Bill. And yet when Bill's out at sea, Why, quite a different chap is he, - For he's the sort that likes to shirk Such nasty things as jobs of work, The sort that never tries to earn The pay he well knows how to burn, Or stand his trick, or pull his weight, Fair and fair like a good shipmate. The kind of thing that suits Bill more Is hanging round the galley door, And licking pots, and peeling spuds, And dobying other people's duds, And eating up the cabin scraps, And sneaking things off other chaps. And yet you'd never think how quick He'll stir himself to dodge a kick, Nor yet how smart aloft he'll shin At the sight of a belaying-pin. For Bill afloat's like plenty more That talk so big when they're ashore, And once at sea, you'll quickly find His valour's mostly . . . in his mind!