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_Chorus_.--I'll give you a bit of my mind, old hound,
Port Admiral, you be d----d.
I'm sure that in this weather they cannot cook their meat,
To eat it raw on Christmas-day will be a pleasant treat;
But let us all go home, girls, it's no use waiting here,
We'll hope that Christmas-day to come, they will have better cheer.
So Bet and Sue
Don't stand here too,
A shivering by my side,
Don't keep so dumb,
Don't look so glum,
Nor watch the ebbing tide.
Poll put her arms a-kimbo,
At the admiral's house looked she,
To thoughts that were in limbo,
She now a vent gave free.
So while they cut their raw salt junks,
With dainties you'll be crammed,
Here's once for all my mind, old hunks,
Port Admiral, you be d----d.
_Chorus_.--So once for all our mind, old hunks,
Port Admiral you be d----d.
"Mein Gott! but dat is rank mutiny, Mynheer Shemmy Tucks," observed
Corporal Van Spitter, who had come upon the deck unperceived by Jemmy,
and had listened to the song.


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