fishermen's hiemorial and record book. 131 



Bashings of Spray from Wavelets of Maritime 

 Poetry by Home Authors, 



THE SKIPPER-HERMIT. 



BT HIRAM RICH. 



For thirty year, come herrin'-time. 



Through many kind o' weather, 

 The " "Wren " an' me have come an' gone. 



An' held our own together. 

 Do' know as she is good as new, 



Do' know as I am, nuther; 

 But she is truer'n kit' an' kin, 



Or any but a mother. 



They're at me now to stay ashore. 

 But while we've hand an' tiller, 



Bhe'll stick to me an' I to her, — 

 To leave the " Wren " would kill her. 



My feet have worn the deck ; ye see 

 How watches leave their traces, 



An' write on oak an' pine as plain 

 As winters on our faces I 



But arter all is said an' done, 



There's somethin' sort o' human 

 About a boat that takes at last 



The place o' child* and woman ; 

 An' yet when I have seen some things- 



Their mothers let me toss 'em — 

 My boat, she seemed a barnacle 



'Longside a bran-new blossom 



