第6章 Forard

It is stuffy in the steerage where the second-classers sleep,For there's near a hundred for'ard,and they're stowed away like sheep,--They are trav'lers for the most part in a straight 'n'honest path;But their linen's rather scanty,an'there isn't any bath --Stowed away like ewes and wethers that is shore 'n'marked 'n'draft.

But the shearers of the shearers always seem to travel aft;In the cushioned cabins,aft,With saloons 'n'smoke-rooms,aft --There is sheets 'n'best of tucker for the first-salooners,aft.

Our beef is just like scrapin's from the inside of a hide,And the spuds were pulled too early,for they're mostly green inside;But from somewhere back amidships there's a smell o'cookin'waft,An'I'd give my earthly prospects for a real good tuck-out aft --Ham an'eggs 'n'coffee,aft,Say,cold fowl for luncheon,aft,Juicy grills an'toast 'n'cutlets --tucker a-lor-frongsy,aft.

They feed our women sep'rate,an'they make a blessed fuss,Just as if they couldn't trust 'em for to eat along with us!

Just because our hands are horny an'our hearts are rough with graft --But the gentlemen and ladies always DINE together,aft --With their ferns an'mirrors,aft,With their flow'rs an'napkins,aft --`I'll assist you to an orange'--`Kindly pass the sugar',aft.

We are shabby,rough,'n'dirty,an'our feelin's out of tune,An'it's hard on fellers for'ard that was used to go saloon;There's a broken swell among us --he is barracked,he is chaffed,An'I wish at times,poor devil,for his own sake he was aft;For they'd understand him,aft,(He will miss the bath-rooms aft),Spite of all there's no denyin'that there's finer feelin's aft.

Last night we watched the moonlight as it spread across the sea --`It is hard to make a livin','said the broken swell to me.

`There is ups an'downs,'I answered,an'a bitter laugh he laughed --There were brighter days an'better when he always travelled aft --With his rug an'gladstone,aft,With his cap an'spyglass,aft --A careless,rovin',gay young spark as always travelled aft.

There's a notice by the gangway,an'it seems to come amiss,For it says that second-classers `ain't allowed abaft o'this';An'there ought to be a notice for the fellows from abaft --But the smell an'dirt's a warnin'to the first-salooners,aft;With their tooth and nail-brush,aft,With their cuffs 'n'collars,aft --Their cigars an'books an'papers,an'their cap-peaks fore-'n'-aft.

I want to breathe the mornin'breeze that blows against the boat,For there's a swellin'in my heart --a tightness in my throat --We are for'ard when there's trouble!We are for'ard when there's graft!

But the men who never battle always seem to travel aft;With their dressin'-cases,aft,With their swell pyjamas,aft --Yes!the idle and the careless,they have ease an'comfort,aft.

I feel so low an'wretched,as I mooch about the deck,That I'm ripe for jumpin'over --an'I wish there was a wreck!

We are driven to New Zealand to be shot out over there --Scarce a shillin'in our pockets,nor a decent rag to wear,With the everlastin'worry lest we don't get into graft --There is little left to land for if you cannot travel aft;No anxiety abaft,They have stuff to land with,aft --Oh,there's little left to land for if you cannot travel aft;But it's grand at sea this mornin',an'Creation almost speaks,Sailin'past the Bay of Islands with its pinnacles an'peaks,With the sunny haze all round us an'the white-caps on the blue,An'the orphan rocks an'breakers --Oh,it's glorious sailin'through!

To the south a distant steamer,to the west a coastin'craft,An'we see the beauty for'ard,better than if we were aft;Spite of op'ra-glasses,aft;

But,ah well,they're brothers aft --

Nature seems to draw us closer --bring us nearer fore-'n'-aft.

What's the use of bein'bitter?What's the use of gettin'mad?

What's the use of bein'narrer just because yer luck is bad?

What's the blessed use of frettin'like a child that wants the moon?

There is broken hearts an'trouble in the gilded first saloon!

We are used to bein'shabby --we have got no overdraft --We can laugh at troubles for'ard that they couldn't laugh at aft;Spite o'pride an'tone abaft (Keepin'up appearance,aft)There's anxiety an'worry in the breezy cabins aft.

But the curse o'class distinctions from our shoulders shall be hurled,An'the influence of woman revolutionize the world;There'll be higher education for the toilin'starvin'clown,An'the rich an'educated shall be educated down;An'we all will meet amidships on this stout old earthly craft,An'there won't be any friction 'twixt the classes fore-'n'-aft.

We'll be brothers,fore-'n'-aft!

Yes,an'sisters,fore-'n'-aft!

When the people work together,and there ain't no fore-'n'-aft.