 A nautical ballad by Charles Edward Carroll, read for LibriVox.org by Alan Clare. A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window blind. No gale of blue dismayed her crew or trouble the captain's mind. The man of the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his boat below. The boss's mate was very sedate yet fond of amusement too when he played hopscotch with starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad for he sat on the after rail and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of a booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way on toasty pigs and pickles and figs and gobblery bread each day. But the court was dutch and behaved as such for the food that he gave to the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill as mariners willed on a diet that's cheap and rude and we shivered in shock as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. Then nautical pride we laid aside and we cast the vessel ashore on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles on the Anagazanders' roar. Composed of sand was that favoured land and trimmed with cinnamon straws and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the tickle-toe teasers' claws. And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee and the bitical bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On Rubbergob bark from dawn to dark we fed till we all had grown on commonly shrunk when a Chinese junk came by from the Toribie zone. She was stubby and square but we didn't much care and we cheerily put to sea and we left the crew of the junk to chew on the bark of the Rubbergob tree. And a poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Nautical Ballad by Charles Edward Carroll. Read for LibreVox.org by Alan Davis Drake. A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window-blind. No gale that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow. And it often appeared, when the weather cleared, that he'd been in his bunk below. The boatswain's mate was very sedate yet fond of amusement too. And he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad for he sat on the after-rail and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in the Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way. Untoasted pigs and pickles and figs and gummary bread each day. But the cook was Dutch and behaved as such, for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns, chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill, as Marin is well, on a diet that's cheap and rude. And we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. Then nautical pride we laid aside and we cast the vessel ashore on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles and the anagazanders roar. Composed of sand was that favoured land and trimmed with cinnamon straws. And pink and blue was the pleasant hue of the tickly-toe teasers' claws. And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee. And the binnacle-bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On Rubba-Gubb bark, from dawn to dark, we fed till we all had grown uncommonly shrunk when a Chinese junk came by from the Torabee zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care. And we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew, the bark of the Rubba-Gubb tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. No gale that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The bosun's mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement, too. And he played hopscotch with the starved watch while the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad, for he sat on the after-rail and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way on toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gummary bread each day. But the cook was Dutch and behaved as such, for the food he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot-cross buns chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all fell ill as mariners will on a diet that's cheap and rude. And we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his glust of food. Then nautical pride we laid aside, and we cast the vessel ashore on the gullamy aisles with the poo-poo smiles and the anacasanders roar. Composed of sand was that favorite land, entrimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was a pleasing hue with a tickletoe teaser's claws. And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee, and the bintical bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On Rubba-Gubb bark from dawn to dark we fed till we all had grown uncomedly shrunk, when a Chinese junk came by from the Torrabee zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew with a junk to chew on the bark of the Rubba-Gubb tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Nautical Ballad by Charles Edward Carroll, read for LibriVox.org by Cody Logan. A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window blind, no gale that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The boatswain's mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement, too, and he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew, and the gunner we had was apparently mad, for he sat on the after-rail, and fired salutes with the captain's boots and the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in the Commodore's hat and dined in the royal way, on toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gummary bread each day. But the cook was dutch and behaved as such, for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill as mariners will on a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of as gluesome food. The nautical pride we laid aside and we cast the vessel ashore. On the gullaby aisles were the poo-poo smiles and the gizanders roar. Composed of sand was at favorite land and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of a tickle-toe teaser's claws, and we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee, and the binnacle bats were waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On Rubba-Gubb bark from dawn to dark we fed till we all had grown, and cronily shrunk when a Chinese junk came by from the Tora-Bee zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerly put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew the bark of the Rubba-Gubb tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Nautical Ballad by Charles Edward Carroll, read for LibriVox.org by Clarica. A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window blind. No gale that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The boat-swayne's mate was very sedate yet fond of amusement, too, and he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew, and the gunner we had was apparently mad for he sat on the after-rail and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way, on toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gunnery bread each day. But the cook was dutch and behaved as such for the food he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill as mariners will on a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. Then nautical pride we laid aside and we cast the vessel ashore on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles and the anagazander's roar. The compost of sand was that favoured land and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the tickle-toe teasers' claws, and we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee, and the binnacle bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On Rubba-Gubb bark from dawn to dark we fed till we all had grown, uncommonly shrunk, when a Chinese junk came by from the Torabee zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerly put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew the bark of the Rubba-Gubb tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Nautical Ballad by Charles Edward Carroll Read for LibriVox.org by Corrie Samuel A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window-blind, no gale that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The boatswain's mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement, too, and he played hopscotch with a starboard watch while a captain tickled the crew, and the gun we had was apparently mad, for he sat on the after-rail and fired salutes with the captain's boots in a teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way, on toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gummary bread each day. But the cook was Dutch and behaved as such, for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns chopped up with sugar and glue, and we all felt ill as Marin as well, on a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his glusome food. Then nautical pride we laid aside, and we cast the vessel ashore on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles and the anagazanders roar. Composed of sand was that favoured land, and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the tickletoe-teaser's claws, and we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge, and shot at the whistling-bee, and the binnacle-bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On rubber-gubb bark, from dawn to dark, we fed, until we all had grown, uncommonly shrunk, when a Chinese junk came by from the Torreby Zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew the bark of the rubber-gubb tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Nautical Ballad by Charles Edward Carroll Read for LibriVox.org by DailyBab A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window blind. No gale that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The bosun's mate was very sedate, yet foamed of amusement, too, and he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew, and the gunner we had was apparently mad for he sat on the after-reel and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way, on toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gummary bread each day. But the cook was Dutch and behaved as such, for the food he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill as mariners will on a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. Then nautical pride we laid aside, and we cast the vessel ashore on the gullaby aisles with the poo-poo smiles and the anagazander's roar. Composed of sand was that favoured land, and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue were the pleasing hue of the Tickletoe teasers' claws. And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee, and the binnacle bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On Rubbergarb bark from dawn to dark we fed till we had grown uncommonly shrunk. When a Chinese junk came by from the Torobi Zone she was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew on the bark of the Rubbergarb tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. No gale that blew to smate or crew or troubled the captain's mind, the man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The boatswain's mate was very sedate yet fond of amusement too, and he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad for he sat on the after rail and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined in a railway on toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gummery bread each day. But the cook was Dutch and behaved as such for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill as Mariners will on a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. The nautical pride we laid aside and we cast the vessel ashore on the Gullaby Islands where the poo poo smiles in the Anacazanders' roar. Composed of sand was that favored land and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the Tickletoe Teaser's claws. And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee, and the binnacle bats wore waterproof hats as they danced into the sounding sea. On Rubbergub bark from dawn to dark we fed till we had grown and commonly shrunk when a Chinese junk came by from the Torrebley Zone. She was stubby and square but we didn't much care and we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew of the Junk to Chew, the bark of the Rubbergub tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Nautical Ballad by Charles Edward Carroll. Red for LibriVox.org by Esther. A capital ship for an ocean trip was a walloping window blind, no gale that blew dismayed her crew, or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel, contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. No son's mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement too, and he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad, for he sat on the after-rail and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way, on toasted pigs and pickles and figs, and gummery bread each day. But the cook was Dutch and behaved as such, for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns, chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill as mariners will on a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. Then nautical pride we laid aside, and we cast the vessel ashore, on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles and the angansander's roar. Composed of sand was that favoured land and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the tickle-toed teasers' claws, and we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee, and the barnacle bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On Rubba-Gubb bark from dawn to dark we fed till we all had grown, uncommonly shrunk when a Chinese junk came by from the Torby zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk-to-chew, the bark of the Rubba-Gubb tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Nautical Ballad by Charles Edward Carroll. Read for LibriVox.org by Giles Baker. September 2007 by Yiddolith. A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window-blind. Nogale that blew dismayed her crew, or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The boatswain's mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement, too, and he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew, and the gunner we had was apparently mad, for he sat on the after-rail and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined, in a royal way, on toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gummary bread each day, but the cook was Dutch, and behaved as such, for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill, as Marina's will, on a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. Then, nautical pride, we laid aside, and we cast the vessel ashore, on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles and the canagas andas roar. Composed of sand was that favoured land, and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the tickle-toe-tease's claws, and we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee, and the binnacle-bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On rubber-gubb bark, from dawn till dark, we fed, till we all had grown uncommonly shrunk, when a Chinese junk came by from the Torrebley Zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew the bark of the rubber-gubb tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared, when the weather had cleared, that he'd been in his bunk below. The boatsman's mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement too, and he played hopscotch with a starboard watch, while the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad, for he sat on the after-rail, and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat, and dined in a royal way, on toasted pigs and pickles and figs, and gummary-bread each day. But the cook was Dutch, and behaved as such, for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot-cross buns, chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill, as Mariners will, on a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub. Then, nautical pride, we laid aside, and we cast the vessel ashore, on the gullaby-oils, where the poo-poo smiles, and the anagazanders roar. Composed of sand was that favoured land, and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and the gullaby-oils, and the gullaby-oils, and the gullaby-oils. Where the poo-poo smiles, and the anagazanders roar. Composed of sand was that favoured land, and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the tigletoe-teaser's claws. As we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge, and shot at the whistling bee, and the binnacle-bats wore waterproof hats, as they danced in the sounding sea. On the rubber-gubb bark, from dawn to dark, we fed, till we all had grown, uncommonly shrunk, when a Chinese junk came by from the Torobi Zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew the bark of the rubber-gubb tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Nautical Ballad by Charles Edward Carroll. Read for LibriVox.org by Airwet. A capital ship for an ocean trip was a walloping window-blind, no gale that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The boat-swins mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement too, and he played hopscotch with a starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad for he sat on the after-rail, and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way on toasted pigs and pickles and figs in the gummary bread each day. But the cook was dutch and behaved as such for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill as mariners will, and a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his bloosome food. The nautical pride we laid aside and we cast the vessel ashore on the Gullaby Isles where the poo-poo smiles in the Anagazander's roar. Composed of sand was that favored land, and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was a pleasing hue of the Tickletoe Teaser's claws. And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee, and the binnacle bats wore waterproof hats that they danced in the sounding sea. On Rubba-Gubb bark, from dawn till dark, we fed till we all had grown, uncommonly shrunk, when a Chinese junk came by from the Torobi Zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew the bark of the Rubba-Gubb tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A nautical ballad by Charles Edward Carroll, read for LibberVox.org. A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window blind. No gale that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man of the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he had been in his bunk below. The bosons made was very sedate, yet fond of amusement too, and he played hopscotch with a starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew, and the gunner we had was apparently mad for he sat on the after rail and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a commuteril's hat and dined in a royal way, on toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gum re-bread each day, but the cook was Dutch and behaved as such for the food that he gave the crew, was a number of tons of hot cross buns chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill as Mariners will on a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. The nautical pride we laid aside and we cast a vessel ashore on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles and the anagazanders roar. Composed of sand was that favored land and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the Tickletoe teasers' claws. We sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at a whistling bee, and the pinnacle bass wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On rubber-gubbed bark from dawn to dark we fed till we all had grown, uncommonly shrunk, when a Chinese junk came by from the Toriby zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew the bark of the rubber-gubbed tree. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. A Nautical Ballad by Charles Edward Carroll. Read for LibriVox.org by Kara Schellenberg A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window blind. No gale that blue dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The boson's mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement, too, and he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad, for he sat on the after-rail and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way, on toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gummary-bread each day. But the cook was Dutch, and behaved as such, for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot-crossed buns, chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill, as mariners will on a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. Then nautical pride we laid aside, and we cast the vessel ashore on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles and the anagazander's roar. Composed of sand was that favoured land, and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the tickletoe-teaser's claws. And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee, and the binnacle-bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On Rubba-Gubb bark from dawn to dark we fed, till we all had grown uncommonly shrunk when a Chinese junk came by from the Torreby Zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew, the bark of the Rubba-Gubb tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window blind, no gale that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The boson's mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement too, and he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad, for he sat on the after-rail, and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way, on toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gummary bread each day. But the cook was Dutch and behaved as such, for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill as mariners will on a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. Then nautical pride we laid aside, and we cast the vessel ashore, on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles and the anagazander's roar. Composed of sand was that favoured land and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the tickle-toe teasers' claws. And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee, and the binnacle bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On rubber-gubb bark from dawn to dark we fed, till we all had grown uncommonly shrunk when a Chinese junk came by from the Torobi Zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerly put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew the bark of the rubber-gubb tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Nautical Ballad by Charles Edward Carroll Red for LibriVox.org by Laura Caldwell A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window blind. No gale that blew dismayed her crew, or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The boson's mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement too, and he played hopscotch with a starboard watch, while the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad, for he sat on the after-rail, and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat, and dined, in a royal way, on toasted pigs and pickles and figs, and gummery bread each day. But the cook was Dutch, and behaved as such, for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot-cross buns, chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill, as mariners will, on a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. Then, nautical pride, we laid aside, and we cast the vessel ashore, on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles and the anagazanders roar. Composed of sand was that favoured land, and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the tickletoe-teaser's claws. And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge, and shot at the whistling bee, and the benical bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On Rub-a-Gub bark, from dawn to dark, we fed, till we all had grown uncommonly shrunk. When a Chinese junk came by from the Toribie zone, she was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew the bark of the Rub-a-Gub tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Nautical Ballad by Charles Edward Carroll, read for LibriVox.org by Mike Buckley. A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window blind. No gale that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The boson's mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement, too, and he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad, for he sat on the after rail and fired salutes with the captain's boots and the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat on a Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way on toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gummary bread each day. But the cook was dutch and behaved as such for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill as mariners will and a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. Then the nautical pride we laid aside and we cast the vessel ashore on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles and the anagazander's roar. Composed of sand was at favorite land and trume was cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the tickle-toe teasers' claws. And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee, and the binnacle bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On Rubba-Gubb bark from dawn to dark we fed till we all had grown uncommonly shrunk when a Chinese junk came by from the Torbi zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew the bark of the Rubba-Gubb tree. End of the poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Nautical Ballad by Charles Edward Carroll. A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window blind, no gale that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The boson's mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement too, and he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad, for he sat on the after-rail and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way, on toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gummary bread each day. But the cook was Dutch and behaved as such, for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill as mariners will on a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. Then, nautical pride, we laid aside, and we cast the vessel ashore on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles and the anagazanders roar. Composed of sand was that favoured land and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the tickle-toe teasers' claws. And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee, and the binnacle bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On Rubba-Gubb bark from dawn to dark we fed till we all had grown, uncommonly shrunk when a Chinese junk came by from the Torobi Zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew the bark of the Rubba-Gubb tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Nautical Ballad by Charles Edward Carroll. Read for LibriVox.org by Mark Smith A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window-blind. No gale that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The boson's mate was very sedate, it fond of amusement too, and he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew. For the gunner we had was apparently mad, for he sat on the after-rail and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way, on toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gummary bread each day. But the cook was Dutch and behaved as such, for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross-buns chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill, as mariners will, on a diet that's cheap and crude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. The nautical pride we laid aside, and we cast the vessel ashore on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles and the anarchizanders roar. Composed of sand was that favoured land and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the tickletoe-teaser's claws. And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee, and the binnacle-bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On rubber-gug bark from dawn to dark we fed, till we all had grown uncommonly shrunk when a Chinese junk came by from the Torobi zone. She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerily put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew the bark of the rubber-gubbed tree. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. A Capital Ship for an Ocean Trip A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window-blind. No gale that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared when the weather had cleared that he'd been in his bunk below. The boson's mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement too, and he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad, for he sat on the after-rail and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way on toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gummary bread each day. The cook was Dutch, and behaved as such for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns, chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill, as Mariners will, on a diet that's cheap and rude, and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluson of food. In nautical pride we laid aside, and we cast the vessel ashore on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles and the anacasander's roar. Composed of sand was that favoured land, and trimmed with cinnamon straws, and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the tickletoe-teaser's claws, and we sat on the edge of a sandy legend short at the whistling bee, and the pinnacle-bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On rubber-gubb bark from dawn to dark we fed till we all had grown uncommonly shrunk. When a Chinese junk came by from the Torreby zone, she was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, and we cheerfully put to sea, and we left the crew of the junk to chew the bark of the rubber-gubb tree. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A Nautical Ballad by Charles Edward Carroll Read for LibriVox.org by Sean McGahey, ducktapeguy.net A capital ship for an ocean trip was the walloping window-blind. No gale that blew just made her crew or troubled the captain's mind. The man at the wheel was taught to feel contempt for the wildest blow, and it often appeared, when the weather had cleared, that he'd been in his bunk below. The boatswain's mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement too, and he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad for he sat on the afterrail and fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the booming gale. The captain sat in a Commodore's hat and dined in a royal way on roasted pigs and pickles and figs and gummery bread each day. But the cook was Dutch and behaved as such for the food that he gave the crew was a number of tons of hot cross buns chopped up with sugar and glue. And we all felt ill as mariners will on a diet that's cheap and rude and we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook in a tub of his gluesome food. Then nautical pride we laid aside and we cast the vessel ashore on the gullaby aisles where the poo-poo smiles and the anagazanders roar. Composed of sand was that favored land and trimmed with cinnamon straws and pink and blue was the pleasing hue of the tic-a-toe teasers' claws and we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee and the binocle bats wore waterproof hats as they danced in the sounding sea. On Rubba-Gubb bark from dawn to dark we fed till we all had grown uncommonly shrunk when a Chinese junk came by from the Torbi Zone. She was stubby and square but we didn't much care and we cheerily put to sea and we left the crew of the junk to chew the bark of the Rubba-Gubb.