All Sorts Poem by Cicely Fox Smith

All Sorts



'It takes all sorts to make a world, an' the same to make a crew;
It takes the good an' middlin' an' the rotten bad uns too;
The same's there are on land,' says Bill, 'you meet 'em all at sea . . .
The freaks an' fads an' crooks an' cads an' ornery folks like me.'

'It takes a man for every job - the skippers an' the mates,
The chap as gives the orders an' the chap as chips the plates -
It takes the brass-bound 'prentices (an' ruddy plagues they be)
An' chaps as shirk an' chaps as work - just ornery chaps like me.'

'It takes the stiffs an' deadbeats an' decent shellbacks too,
The chaps as always pull their weight an' them as never do,
The sort the Lord as made 'em knows what bloomin' use they be,
An' crazy folks, an' musical blokes . . . an' ornery chaps like me.'

'It takes a deal o' fancy breeds - the Dagoes an' the Dutch,
The Lascars an' calashees an' the seedyboys an' such;
It takes the greasers an' the Chinks, the Jap an' Portugee,
The blacks an' yellers an' 'arf-bred fellers . . . an' ornery folks like me.'

'It takes all sorts to make a world an' the same to make a crew,
It takes more kinds o' people than there's creeters in the Zoo;
You meet 'em all ashore,' says Bill, 'an' you find 'em all at sea . . .
But do me proud if most of the crowd ain't ornery chaps like me!'

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