“Farewell, false world,” he wildly cries
And registers despair.
The frightened damsel vainly tries
To grab him by the hair.
Into the rushing tide he flops
Despite the maiden’s squeal.
The operator never stops
The progress of his reel.
“You did it like a pair of clams,”
The chief yells from the shore.
“Some action to it now, you hams!
Go over it once more.”