Part 27 (2/2)

Fis.h.i.+ng here it is not treason, Him you had no right to seize on, And when the poor man did fish hook, He had a right the same to cook.

SEAL FIs.h.i.+NG AND HUNTING.

Where frosts doth northern bays congeal, There you will find the finest seal, They do pursue them o'er each bay From early dawn till close of day.

The Indians display great zeal, Engaged in hunting of the seal, And ladies love for to display Their seal furs from this famous bay.

Most precious of all furs is seal, Their flesh is good as finest veal, And the seal it is a squatter, Lives on either land or water.

The Indian boys happy feel, When they capture the young seal, They do seem so happy ever, Sailing o'er each bay and river.

They train them their canoes to tow, And o'er the waters merry go, Full quick to right or left they wheel, Guided by reins the docile seal.

Like lad on colt without a saddle, These youths use no oar nor paddle, But swift o'er water rushes keel, For 'tis propelled by the fast seal.

To Uncle Sam we do appeal, How can you own the whole sea's seal, And at the same time claim our cod, If from the sh.o.r.e a mile abroad.

SNAKE AND ITS YOUNG.

There is a peculiar snake, You might almost call it squatter, It loves to dive in pond or lake, At home on either land or water.

But it excited my good dog To see small snakes bask in the sun, Enjoying themselves on a big log, Near into where the water run.

But their mother she was watching Her numerous brood on the log, She thought to them was danger hatching, When she beheld myself and dog.

For she gave a hissing sound, All her offspring to awake, She ope'd her mouth and at a bound, Down her throat did rush each snake.

I scarcely my own eyes could trust, To see those small snakes disappear, I really thought that she would burst, For the sake of her offspring dear.

But I soon hid among the brakes, To view the young ones leave their prison, Will you believe this tale of snakes, If I did count right just four dozen.

WHALE AND ITS FOES.

Six hundred miles north of Cape Flattery, On sea there seemed a floating battery, And stream of blood did dye the water, Sailors wondered what was the matter.

<script>