We liked to see him wading,
   His great net in his hand;
We loved to see him come ashore
   And shake it on the sand.

To-day his work was ended,
   He sat him down to rest
Upon a coil of tarry rope.
   The seat he loved the best.

There, basking in the sunshine.
   He leaned against the wall.
I saw him light his little pipe,
   And then I heard him call.

Come here, young Master Stanley,
   And bring your little boat,
And let me see what can be done
   To make her rightly float.

And sit ye down beside me
  'Tis far too hot to play,
I'll may be spin another yarn
   Like mine the other day.

I've been a jolly sailor
   The best part of my life;
I never settled down at home
   Until I got my wife.

But Polly, she said: "Jonah,
   Now stop at home my dear;"
And when I looked in Polly's eye
   I thought I saw a tear.

And somehow, Master Stanley,
   I lost the love to roam,
And settled down at fishing here
   With Polly, and at home.

But what I tell you now lad,
   It happened long ago,
When I was far across the seas
   Amidst the ice and snow.

'T was on Newfoundland island,
   A dismal place and drear,
My master owned some fishing-boats.
   I'd worked for him a year.

One night we sailed as usual
   And all at first went right;
We filled the boat with large cod-fish
   And turned back when 'twas light.

But up then rose the breakers,
   The wind blew wild and strong,
The waves were dashing on the rocks
   And hurled our boat along.

How should we reach the harbour?
   How should we rightly steer?
Oh! Who would give a helping hand?
   Our hearts were filled with fear.

There was no bonny lifeboat
   To skip above the wave,
To come across the raging tide,
   To rescue and to save.

The people on the island
   Were running to the pier:
The master stood upon the shore.
   And watched as we drew near.

But all of them were helpless
   As helpless as could be,
They cried aloud, they rushed along,
   They waded in the sea!

Not one of them could reach us
   Not one could give us aid;
It was a fearful time my boy,
   And we were sore afraid.

But standing by my master,
   And gazing on the sea.
Was Neptune, his Newfoundland dog,
   A noble fellow he!

He leapt into the water.
   And met the billows' strife.
Fighting each big wave as it came,
   And struggling for his life.

SAVED BY A DOG.

At last we saw him near us,
   We wondered what he meant,
We called to him to come on board.
   His strength was almost spent.

But Neptune would not heed us,
   Though he swam round and round;
What could the dog have come to do?
   What reason could be found?

At last Bill Fisher shouted;
  "Throw him a rope, my lad;
He may have come to give us help,
   I only wish he had!"

At once the dog plunged forward
   To catch the rope we threw;
We knew he meant to save us then.
   Our trusty friend and true.

He passed the rocks in safety.
   Then leapt upon the sand;
We heard them give a shout of joy
   When he had reached the land.

They seized the rope, they dragged us,
   You should have seen, my boy,
How Neptune watched us come ashore,
   And wagged his tail for joy.

They hoisted up the signal
   To spread the news around:
That every man of us was there,
   That all were safe and sound.

HOISTING THE SIGNAL.

And each man on the island,
   Both near and far away,
Came over to pat Neptune's head
   For his good work that day.

Now I must hurry homewards,
   There's Harry's wife and lad,
They've caught sight of the father's boat
   He likes to meet his dad!

You'll see him come ashore now;
   Ah! There he is! I'm right,
I thought when they jumped off the boat
   That Harry was in sight.

It's like the old days over
   To watch him come from sea.
She looks for him as Polly then
   So often looked for me.

I live with her and Harry.
   The rest are all away,
My Magpie's married to a man,
   Who lives in Plymouth Bay.

See, there are Harry's children,
   And now he's got his net
To carry home the baby in.
   She's Harry's little pet.

CRADLED IN HIS CALLING.

So good-day, Master Stanley.
   But come again, my dear,
I've many another yarn to spin,
   If you should care to hear.

And bring your sister with you.
   There's something in her eyes
That makes me think of little Jess.
   She's just about her size.

I often sit and wonder,
   If children older grow;
I lost her, Master Stanley,
   Some thirty years ago.

FATHER'S JOY.

They say old folks love dreaming,
   Of things long since gone by:
I know when I begin to dream
   A tear comes in my eye.

But I am sailing Homewards
   The Harbour is in sight,
And we shall be together lad,
   Within the Home of light.

It was upon her birthday,
   The day she was eleven,
Just ask your Mother if she thinks
   That they grow old in Heaven.

I sit and think about her,
   And think of Polly too;
I seem to hear them speak to me,
   I sometimes think they do.

Printed by Meissner & Buch. Chromo-Lithographers. LONDON & LEIPZIG.