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Jim Marlinspike was a castaway,
On a far-off island shore; He floated there on a banjo box,
And a shirt was all he wore—-If you should bar a startled look,
And a pain that then was his, For too much damp had left with Jim
A touch of the rheumatiz.
But Jim was a man of "Tapley " stripe,
And when things worried him, He always looked at the pleasant side,
For that was the way with Jim, And so it gave him joy, indeed,
When on that lonely shore, He found his banjo in the box—
He asked for nothing more.
Some would'er pined for a bite to eat,
Or a suit of hand-me-downs, But Jim just played his old banjo,.
And laughed at Fortune's frowns. The trade winds played at hide-and-seek
With the skirt of Jim's brief shirt, But he sat on a rock and played banjb,
And he played it, too, right peart.