J. J. Bell, Little Grey Ships — Mines (1916)
“ What are ye trawlin' for, Lucky Jack, Out on the old North Sea? An' why is yer trawler all greyish black, As glum as a T.B.D.? An' what o' the hundreds o' East Coast chaps On trawlers made likewise glum? They goes somewhere ... comes home—well, p'raps. There's one, now an' then, don't come. But never a fish do they land—an' fish Is fetchin' a 'normous price!... What are ye trawlin' for, Lucky Jack, Wi' yer decks all slush an' ice? “We're trawlin' from dawnin' till dusk, Old Sam ”
