Some thought it was a _Shark_, Sir, a _Porpus_ some conceived it; Some said it was a _Grampus_, and some a _Whale_ believ’d it; Some swore it was a _Sea Horse_, then own’d themselves mistaken, For, now they’d got a nearer view--’twas certainly _a Kraken_. Each sported his opinion, from the parson to the barber, Of the terrible _Sea Monster_ they had got in the harbour.
“Belay, belay,” a sailor cried, “_what that, this thing_, a _Kraken_! ’Tis no more like one, split my jib, than it is a flitch of bacon! I’ve often seen a hundred such, all sporting in the Nile, Sir, And you may trust a sailor’s word, it is a _Crocodile_, Sir.” Each strait to Jack _knocks under_, from the parson to the barber, And all agreed a _Crocodile_ had got into the harbour.
Yet greatly Jack’s discovery his auditors did shock, Sir, For they dreaded that the _Salmon_ would be eat up by the Croc. Sir: When presently the _Crocodile_, their consternation crowning, Raised its head above the waves, and cried, “_Help! O Lord, I’m drowning!_” Heavens! how their hair, Sir, stood on end, from the parson to the barber; To find a _Speaking Crocodile_ had got into the harbour.
This dreadful exclamation appall’d both young and old, Sir, In the very stoutest hearts, indeed, it made the blood run cold, Sir; Ev’n _Jack_, the hero of the Nile, it caus’d to quake and tremble, Until an old wife, sighing, cried “_Alas! ’tis Stephen K----._” Heav’ns! however all astonish’d, from the parson to the barber, To find that Stephen K---- was the monster in the harbour.
Strait crocodilish fears gave place to manly gen’rous strife, Sir, Most willingly each lent a hand to save poor Stephen’s life, Sir; They drag’d him gasping to the shore, impatient for his history, For how he came in that sad plight, to them was quite a mystery. Tears glisten’d, Sir, in every eye, from the parson to the barber, When, swoln to thrice his natural _size_, they drag’d him from the harbour.
Now having roll’d and rubb’d him well an hour upon the beach, Sir, He got upon his legs again, and made a serious speech, Sir; Quoth he, “An ancient proverb says, and true it will be found, Sirs, Those born to prove an _airy doom_, will surely never be drown’d, Sirs. For fate, Sirs, has us all in tow, from the monarch to the barber; Or surely I had breathed my last this morning in the harbour.