  WHILE Brownies strayed along a pier To view the shipping lying near, A tugboat drew their gaze at last; 'Twas at a neighboring wharf made fast. Cried one: "See what in black and red Below the pilot-house is spread! In honor of the Brownie Band, It bears our name in letters grand. Through all the day she's on the go; Now with a laden scow in tow, And next with barges two or three, Then taking out a ship to sea, Or through the Narrows steaming round In search of vessels homeward bound; She's stanch and true from stack to keel, And we should highly honored feel." Another said: "An hour ago, The men went up to see a show, And left the tugboat lying here. The steam is up, our course is clear, We'll crowd on board without delay And run her up and down the bay. We have indeed a special claim, Because she bears the 'Brownie' name. Before the dawn creeps through the east We'll know about her speed at least, And prove how such a craft behaves When cutting through the roughest waves. Behind the wheel I'll take my stand And steer her round with skillful hand, Now down the river, now around The bay, or up the broader sound; Throughout the trip I'll keep her clear Of all that might awaken fear. When hard-a-port the helm I bring, Or starboard make a sudden swing, The Band can rest as free from dread As if they slept on mossy bed. I something know about the seas, I've boxed a compass, if you please, And so can steer her east or west, Or north or south, as suits me best. Without the aid of twinkling stars Or light-house lamps, I'll cross the bars. I know when north winds nip the nose, Or sou'-sou'-west the 'pig-wind' blows, As hardy sailors call the gale That from that quarter strikes the sail." A third replied: "No doubt you're smart And understand the pilot's art, But more than one a hand should take, For all our lives will be at stake. In spite of eyes and ears and hands, And all the skill a crew commands, How oft collisions crush the keel And give the fish a sumptuous meal! Too many rocks around the bay Stick up their heads to bar the way. Too many vessels, long and wide, At anchor in the channel ride For us to show ourselves unwise And trust to but one pair of eyes." Ere long the tugboat swinging clear Turned bow to stream and left the pier, While many Brownies, young and old, From upper deck to lower hold Were crowding round in happy vein Still striving better views to gain. Some watched the waves around them roll; Some stayed below to shovel coal, From hand to hand, with pitches strong, They passed the rattling loads along. Some at the engine took a place, More to the pilot-house would race To keep a sharp lookout ahead, Or man the wheel as fancy led. But accidents we oft record, However well we watch and ward, And vessels often go to wreck With careful captains on the deck; They had mishaps that night, for still, In spite of all their care and skill, While running straight or turning round In river, bay, or broader sound, At times they ran upon a rock, And startled by the sudden shock Some timid Brownies, turning pale, Would spring at once across the rail; And then, repenting, find all hope Of life depended on a rope, That willing hands were quick to throw And hoist them from the waves below. Sometimes too near a ship they ran For peace of mind; again, their plan Would come to naught through lengthy tow Of barges passing to and fro. The painted buoys around the bay At times occasioned some dismay— They took them for torpedoes dread That might the boat in fragments spread, Awake the city's slumbering crowds, And hoist the band among the clouds. But thus, till hints of dawn appeared Now here, now there, the boat was steered With many joys and many fears, That some will bear in mind for years; But at her pier once more she lay When night gave place to creeping day. |
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