A most strange tale,
That may make you pale.
It dates from around 1832,
Rather macabre in a point or two.
A British gent, working in the U.S.A.,
Sadly fainted and passed away,
His folks wanted him buried in the U.K.
Now what to do? What to say?
Ships were the only way to cross the Atlantic
So all concerned became quite frantic.
The only way to preserve the cadaver,
Was in alcohol, to pickle it, rather.
So the body was put in a barrel of rum,
And lashed to the mast of a schooner in drum.
After about four long weeks at sea,
The Captain was going to have his tea.
When he noticed a particularly foul smell,
That certainly made him feel most unwell.
The crew, this smell, couldn’t abide,
So they tossed the cask over the side.

You may well be wondering, madame or sir,
Why such an occurrence did occur?
Some sailors had drilled a very nice hole,
In the barrel lashed to the mast pole.
Into this hole a tap was inserted,
Hidden away so no-one’s alerted.
Every night the crew enjoyed tots of rum.
Until they had finished it in days to come.
Of course the corpse, without grog, led,
To it’s rotting in the wooden hogshead.
What a dreadful thing to do.
But what a lively, happy crew!