The True Story of the Wreck of the Hesperus

It was the schooner Hesperus That sailed the wintry sea. And the skipper was freighting some McIntosh Reds, Shipped by the O. U. G.

Red were their cheeks like the mountain ash, Or the sun at close of day. And they'll shine on the stalls for the Christmas trade, In the Old Land far away.

Then up and spake an old deckhand: "Boss, the ship's afire," says he. "Them blamed old fruits is combustible. And spon-ta-ne-ous it be."

Then the skipper he ordered the fire hose laid, And they pumped with might and main, Till they flooded the hold with the decks a-wash, But ever the fire did gain.

"Oh! Skipper," a book-learned fellow cried. "There's too much oxygen." So they fetched some flour from the afterhold And they got it smothered then.

Smothered it was, but it smouldered still; So, instead of a messy sop, They came into port with a pie-crust brown That covered the main-hatch top.

You heard she was wrecked? Why, that's a yarn, But the skipper he was shy, So they changed her name from the "Hesperus" To the schooner "Apple-pie."

Now this is a "general average" Of the yarn the speaker spun. Though perhaps a "particular" here and there Is "adjusted" just for fun.