Walter Stanford
In the chosen land of Palestine, three thousand years ago 
Lived a certain Jonah Somebody, whose surname we don't know 
Who earned an honest living, in that far off foreign part 
By the exercise of prophecy, that very ancient art 

One day he got instructions to proceed without delay 
And tell the wicked Ninevites, 'There'd come a time some day.' 
Now, Jonah didn't like the job and very angry grew 
For it was the month of August, and his holidays were due.

'Be hanged to Nineveh,' he thought, 'I'll take an ocean trip.' 
So he cycled down to Jobba, and at Jobba found a ship 
He took a cabin ticket and paid his money down 
And, in the afternoon, the good ship left for Tarshish Town

When, feeling rather qualmish, Jonah went below to doze 
And, as he lay asleep, a fearful storm arose. 
Then in a tick, before the skipper scarce had time to swear 
Bang went the two propellers and the patent steering gear. 

The boat shipped lots of water, so they woke the prophet up 
And put him on at bailing with a spoon and breakfast cup 
And while the crew kept pumping like the deuce to keep afloat 
The captain said, "It strikes me, there's a 'hoodoo' on the boat." 

The mate replied, "You've hit it, it's a pretty bit of biz 
My lads, let's 'sell the pony' and see who the bounder is." 
Well, Jonah 'bought the pony' and the captain and the crew 
Said, "It's you that caused the trouble, Mister, what are we to do?" 

Then Jonah answered like a man, he said, "It seems to me 
This is a case of jettison. Here, chuck me in the sea.
For when I cast my horoscope some years ago, I found 
That I should never meet my latter end by being drowned." 

And the mate said to the skipper, "Shall we do it? What d'ye say? 
He's paid his fare, so we shan't be the losers, anyway." 
"All right!" the captain answered, so while wind and water roared 
They all shook hands with Jonah and then shoved him overboard. 

Now, at that very instant that the prophet struck the brine 
A whale, in passing, thought, "Hullo, here's something in my line!" 
And the moment after, Jonah, with an oily sort of glide 
Felt himself go slowly sliding down the animal's inside 

And there three days he rested, with his boots on, fully dressed 
The whale found he'd got something that he couldn't well digest.
And local irritation in his stomach came about 
Through Jonah scraping round, to try and find a short cut out. 

And on the third day when the whale, was very near to land 
He turned up deadly sick and out jerked Jonah on the sand. 
The prophet, having had a bath, soon felt himself again 
And then straightway for Nineveh he started off by train 

And when he reached the city, to the market place he went 
And slanged and cursed the Ninevites unto his heart's content. 
That's all, and I assure you that the narrative is true 
And if you don't believe it... there's a lot of folks who do.    
The end