PART II.

Sam went to sea, and whilst upon a voyage, He read of Enoch Arden and his woes; And so he soon resolved to do the same As in the book he read that Enoch did. To carry out his plan he sent word home, By trusty shipmate, to his Susan Ann, That he was drowned. He really did not care A great deal for his once-loved Susan Ann, Who, when the knot had but been tied a year, Had clearly showed that she could be the boss. So time sped on, and artful Hunky Sam In foreign climates had a jolly time For several years. "I think I'll homeward sail," One day he said, "and see how Susan Ann Gets on; like Enoch, I will softly glide Towards the cottage there upon the cliff, And see how she makes out with her new man, For she is doubtless wedded once again, Just like that Mrs. Arden in the book." Away he sailed across the sounding surge (A good expression that, but not my own), And soon he reached his village on the coast. 'Twas night. He crept towards the little cot Where once he'd dwelt. A light was burning clear; He peered in through the window. Susan Ann Was there, but t'other fellow was away. His wife glanced up: she saw the faithless Sam; She sprang towards him--grabbed him by the hair And held him there, whilst with her other arm She dealt him myriad thwacks with broomstick stout. "You would," she cried--"you would say you were dead, And with your foreign gals go cuttin' up; And leave me here to take in washing--eh? You wretch! take that, and that, and that, and that!" Each "that" being followed by a sickening thud.