The life of a sea captain’s never been an easy one. Oh, I get mad as a hen-turtle thinking about all those music-hall wax hits making it out to be such a lark. “Jenny Won’t You Come Be A Sea Captain With Me (It’s Easy In July),” “Put Down Your Coal And Sail,” “Pack Up Your Troubles Behind The Mast,” “Why Won’t You Go To Sea, Papa,” “I’m Afraid To Come Home In The Dark Unless There’s A Lighthouse On,” and “Oh! It’s Awfully Jolly To Captain A Ship With You” make all the stage-door swells and Salvation Army Johnnies rush out to the nearest inlet with a broom and an ash-pan, trying to harness the wind with their belts, but how many of them would top the binnacle if they knew just how many years it takes before grizzling sets in? Who minds the pale young sea captain? No one at sea, not from bobstay to bolt-rope, and it’s a mighty long way from pale to grizzled, even with the bite of the salt spray to help you along.
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