THE night was thick and hazy 
 When the 'Piccadilly Daisy' 
Carried down the crew and captain in the sea; 
 And I think the water drowned 'em; 
 For they never, never found 'em,
And I know they didn't come ashore with me. 
 


 Oh! 'twas very sad and lonely 
 When I found myself the only 
Population on this cultivated shore; 
 But I've made a little tavern
 In a rocky little cavern, 
And I sit and watch for people at the door. 
 


 I spent no time in looking 
 For a girl to do my cooking, 
As I'm quite a clever hand at making stews;
 But I had that fellow Friday, 
 Just to keep the tavern tidy, 
And to put a Sunday polish on my shoes. 
 


 I have a little garden 
 That I'm cultivating lard in,
As the things I eat are rather tough and dry; 
 For I live on toasted lizards, 
 Prickly pears, and parrot gizzards, 
And I'm really very fond of beetle-pie. 
 


 The clothes I had were furry,
 And it made me fret and worry 
When I found the moths were eating off the hair; 
 And I had to scrape and sand 'em, 
 And I boiled 'em and I tanned 'em, 
Till I got the fine morocco suit I wear.
 


 I sometimes seek diversion 
 In a family excursion 
With the few domestic animals you see; 
 And we take along a carrot 
 As refreshment for the parrot,
And a little can of jungleberry tea. 
 


 Then we gather as we travel, 
 Bits of moss and dirty gravel, 
And we chip off little specimens of stone; 
 And we carry home as prizes
 Funny bugs, of handy sizes, 
Just to give the day a scientific tone. 
 


 If the roads are wet and muddy 
 We remain at home and study,? 
For the Goat is very clever at a sum,?
 And the Dog, instead of fighting, 
 Studies ornamental writing, 
While the Cat is taking lessons on the drum. 
 


 We retire at eleven, 
 And we rise again at seven;
And I wish to call attention, as I close, 
 To the fact that all the scholars 
 Are correct about their collars, 
And particular in turning out their toes.