"THE LINER SHE'S A LADY."

THE Liner she's a lady, 'an she never looks nor 'eeds

The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, an' 'e gives 'er all she needs;

But, oh, the little cargo-boats, that sail the wet seas roun',

They're just the same as you an' me a-plyin' up an' down!

Plyin' up an' down, Jenny, 'angin' round the

Yard,

All the way by Fratton tram down to Portsmouth 'Ard;

Anythin' for business, an' we're growin' oldPlyin' up an' down, Jenny, waitin' in the cold!

The Liner she's a lady by the paint upon 'er face, An' if she meets an accident they call it sore dis

grace:

The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, and 'e's always 'andy by,

But, oh, the little cargo-boats! they've got to load or die.

The Liner she's a lady, and 'er route is cut an' dried;

The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, an' 'e always keeps

beside;

But, oh, the little cargo-boats that 'aven't any

man!

They've got to do their business first, and make the most they can.

The Liner she's a lady, and if a war should

come,

The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, and 'e'd bid 'er stay at home;

But, oh, the little cargo-boats that fill with every

tide!

'E'd 'ave to up an' fight for them, for they are England's pride.

The Liner she's a lady, but if she wasn't made, There still would be the cargo-boats for 'ome an' foreign trade.

The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, but if we wasn't 'ere,

'E wouldn't have to fight at all for 'ome an' friends so dear.

'Ome an' friends so dear, Jenny, 'angin' round the Yard,

All the way by Fratton tram down to Portsmouth 'Ard;

Anythin' for business, an' we're growin' old— 'Ome an' friends so dear, Jenny, waitin' in the cold!

MULHOLLAND'S CONTRACT.

THE fear was on the cattle, for the gale was on the

sea,

An' the pens broke up on the lower deck an' let the creatures free

An' the lights went out on the lower deck, an' no one down but me.

I had been singin' to them to keep 'em quiet

there,

For the lower deck is the dangerousest, requirin' constant care,

An' give to me as the strongest man, though used to drink and swear.

I see my chance was certain of bein' horned or

trod,

For the lower deck was packed with steers thicker 'n peas in a pod,

An' more pens broke at every roll-so I made a Contract with God.

An' by the terms of the Contract, as I have read the same,

If He got me to port alive I would exalt His

name,

An' praise His Holy Majesty till further orders

came.

He saved me from the cattle an' He saved me from

the sea,

For they found me 'tween two drownded ones where the roll had landed me

An' a four-inch crack on top of my head, as crazy as could be.

But that were done by a stanchion, an' not by a bullock at all,

An' I lay still for seven weeks convalessing of the

fall,

An' readin' the shiny Scripture texts in the Seamen's Hospital.

An' I spoke to God of our Contract, an' He says to my prayer:

"I never puts on My ministers no more than they

can bear.

"So back you go to the cattle-boats an' preach My Gospel there.