SHINGLE-SHORT
Sloppy, ain’t it? The thing’s full up!
Plenty o’ depth for you to draw....
Tea-leaf, top o’ a ten-foot cup....
I say! Sorrow! Suppose....she sank?....
Kind o’ tightens me in the throat....
Rubbish! she couldn’t....Oh, please don’t!
(Resolutely.)
Ready? Leggo, there! Now, then—Float!
(The model takes the water.)
GloryHosanna! You’re a Boat!
(Scrambling round the tank, guiding the boat.)
Do this yourself, you know, you ought:
Make the round trip from port to port.
That ’ud be splendid, just like life.
Ought to ha’ fancied that at first.
Hold on, now! Do it, if I burst....
Golly! I’ve got it. Where’s my knife?
(Shapes and fixes a rudder, lashing it so that the boat must move in a circle; this he proves, then re-enters the wharé.)
Good! You’re a boat, you’ll go, you’ll come—
An’ yet my fancy ain’t fetch’d home.
Know why? Because your looks ain’t neat,
An’, if there’s one thing you’re to be,
It’s this—right up-an’-down Complete!
I kind o’ need things finished quite,
So, come on, son! let’s get you right.
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