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Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 15., A Fishy story. (search)
Minute-man of esculents! Substitute for every dish, Hail, all hail to thee, Salt Fish! When the rain comes pouring down, And no market-carts from town; Nought abroadnd flooded vale,— “What for dinner do you wish?” Asks the wife. The same,—Salt Fish. When the winter's smothering blow Drifts the roads fence-high with snow, Shrouur awful solitude, Can we feel blue devilish? Blest resource! there's some Salt Fish. Rain nor snow nor cold nor heat May disturb our high retreat: All within is chand knives and platters; Help him, till no more he wish, From thy bounty, O Salt Fish! Thou of eatables the chief,— Whether called Atlantic beef, Mutton caught at Ne for thee we render thanks, O thou universal dish! Hail, all hail, to thee, Salt Fish! Blessings on thy face antique, Mummy ichthyologic, Drawn from caves beneath thy Lent With Carnival incontinent, Making all days Fridayish, Thaumaturgical Salt Fish. One appellation Dr. Ballou failed to name—the time-honored Cape Cod Tu