THE SEA-SERPENT. 
33 
I ’m glad he ’s done. c Were vengeance due for 
all the wrongs ’ that he on me bestows, when, 
with his trumpet, fife, and flute, he wakes me with 
his toot , toot , loot , I ’d go and break his nose.” 
t 
Thus they were talking at the bar, when the beau 
struck up again ;—but it ’s time to see where the 
ladies are, and we shall not look in vain. 
Fair was the day, but fairer still those sylph¬ 
like forms in the summer sea ; — who could dream 
that aught of ill could mar their hour of revelry ? 
Lightly they play with the glistening waves, or 
dive for the pearly pebbles and shells, swept by 
the winds from ocean’s caves. But hark! do 
you hear those horrid yells ? — 
On came the serpent right for the spot! Like 
lightning gleamed his glaring eyes. He doubts if 
the ladies are mermaids or not ; — the man on the 
keel, with a wild surprise, suspects they are, but 
he does not know ; for, ever since the boat upset, 
he’s been tossed above and dragged below. How¬ 
ever, he shrieks, u Ho, look out there ! get out of 
