Page:Tibby Fowler, or, The lass with the siller bridle.pdf/4

                        ( 4 ) Dear Captain, he ſaid then, don't talk of your preſſing, Its not long ago ſince I gave ſix of them a dreſſing: I know that very well, Jack, the truth I muſt grant you, You are a brave hearty fellow, and that makes me want you.

Dear Captain. he ſaid then, if the truth I do tell you, I got ſo much the laſt war, that it quite fill'd my belly: For your damn'd rogues of officers, they uſe men ſo cruel, That a man of war is worſe, than hell or the devil.

There is the Maſter a ſwearing, the Boatſwain a growling, The Midſhipman howling out, take that fore-bowling; If you ſpeak but one word, you're a mutinous raſcal, Both your legs laid in irons, and try'd by a court martial.

Now boys we are prefs'd away, from our own habitation, And we leave wife and children in grief and vexation;