SAILING CRAFT in 



world. They are the folklore of a class apart, 

 which differs, as landsmen differ, in ways and 

 speech and racial ambition, but which is also 

 drawn together, as landsmen never have been, 

 by that strange blend of strife and communing 

 with man and nature which is only known at 

 sea. They will not bear quotation in cold print, 

 where they are as pitiably out of place as an 

 albatross on deck. No mere reader can feel 

 the stir of that grand old chanty 



Hurrah I my boys, we're homeward bound ! 



unless he has heard it when all hands make 

 sail on leaving port, and the deck begins 

 pulsating with the first throb of the swell that 

 sets in landward across the bar. And what 

 can this chorus really mean to any one who has 

 never heard it roared by strong male voices 

 to the running accompaniment of seething 

 water overside ? 



What ho, Piper ! watch her how she goes ! 



Give her sheet and let her rip. 



We 're the boys to pull her through. 



You ought to see her rolling home ; 



For she 's the gal to go 



In the passage home in ninety days 



From Cal-i-for-ni-o ! 



But though you can no more wrest a chanty 

 from its surroundings and then pass it off as a 



