Chuck the slippers after-- [Pity 'taint a boot!]

Bowin' like a lady, Blushin' like a lad-- 'Oo would say to see 'em-- Both are rotten bad!

_Cheer for the Sergeant's weddin'-- Give 'em one cheer more!

Gray gun-'orses in the lando, An' a rogue is married to, etc._

THE JACKET.

Through the Plagues of Egyp' we was chasin' Arabi, Gettin' down an' shovin' in the sun; An' you might 'ave called us dirty, an' you might ha' called us dry, An' you might 'ave 'eard us talkin' at the gun.

But the Captain 'ad 'is jacket, an' the jacket it was new-- ('Orse-Gunners, listen to my song!) An' the wettin' of the jacket is the proper thing to do, Nor we didn't keep 'im waiting very long!

One day they give us orders for to sh.e.l.l a sand redoubt, Loadin' down the axle-arms with case; But the Captain knew 'is dooty, an' he took the crackers out, An' he put some proper liquor in its place.

An' the Captain saw the shrapnel (which is six-an'-thirty clear).

('Orse-Gunners, listen to my song!) "Will you draw the weight," sez 'e, "or will you draw the beer?"

An' we didn't keep 'im waitin' very long.

_For the Captain_, etc.

Then we trotted gentle, not to break the bloomin' gla.s.s, Though the Arabites 'ad all their ranges marked; But we dursn't 'ardly gallop, for the most was bottled Ba.s.s, An' we'd dreamed of it since we was disembarked.

So we fired economic with the sh.e.l.ls we 'ad in 'and, ('Orse-Gunners, listen to my song!) But the beggars under cover 'ad the impidence to stand, An' we couldn't keep 'em waitin' very long.

_And the Captain_, etc.

So we finished 'arf the liquor (an' the Captain took champagne), An' the Arabites was shootin' all the while; An' we left our wounded 'appy with the empties on the plain, An' we used the bloomin' guns for pro-jec-tile!

We limbered up an' galloped--there were nothin' else to do-- ('Orse-Gunners, listen to my song!) An' the Battery come a-boundin' like a boundin' kangaroo, But they didn't watch us comin' very long.

_As the Captain_, etc.

We was goin' most extended--we was drivin' very fine, An' the Arabites were loosin' 'igh an' wide, Till the Captain took the gla.s.sy with a rattlin' right incline, An' we dropped upon their 'eads the other side.

Then we give 'em quarter--such as 'adn't up and cut, ('Orse-Gunners, listen to my song!) An' the Captain stood a limberful of fizzy--somethin' Brutt, But we didn't leave it fizzing very long.

_For the Captain_, etc.

We might ha' been court-martialled, but it all come out all right When they signalled us to join the main command.

There was every round expended, there was every gunner tight, An' the Captain waved a corkscrew in 'is 'and!

_But the Captain had 'is jacket_, etc.

THE 'EATHEN.

The 'eathen in 'is blindness bows down to wood an' stone; 'E don't obey no orders unless they is 'is own; 'E keeps 'is side-arms awful: 'e leaves 'em all about, An' then comes up the regiment an' pokes the 'eathen out.

_All along o' dirtiness, all along o' mess, All along o' doin' things rather-more-or-less, All along of abby-nay,[6] kul,[7] and hazar-ho,[8]

Mind you keep your rifle an' yourself jus' so!_

The young recruit is 'aughty--'e draf's from Gawd knows where; They bid 'im show 'is stockin's an' lay 'is mattress square; 'E calls it bloomin' nonsense--'e doesn't know, no more-- An' then up comes 'is company an' kicks 'em round the floor!

The young recruit is 'ammered--'e takes it very 'ard; 'E 'angs 'is 'ead an' mutters--'e sulks about the yard; 'E talks o' "cruel tyrants" 'e'll swing for by-an'-bye, An' the others 'ears an' mocks 'im, an' the boy goes orf to cry.

The young recruit is silly--'e thinks o' suicide; 'E's lost 'is gutter-devil; 'e 'asn't got 'is pride; But day by day they kicks 'im, which 'elps 'im on a bit, Till 'e finds 'isself one mornin' with a full an' proper kit.

_Gettin' clear o' dirtiness, gettin' done with mess, Gettin' shut o' doin' things rather-more-or-less; Not so fond of abby-nay, kul, nor hazar-ho, Learns to keep 'is rifle an' 'isself jus' so!_

The young recruit is 'appy--'e throws a chest to suit; You see 'im grow mustaches; you 'ear 'im slap 'is boot; 'E learns to drop the "bloodies" from every word he slings, An' 'e shows an 'ealthy brisket when 'e strips for bars an' rings.

The cruel tyrant sergeants they watch 'im 'arf a year; They watch 'im with 'is comrades, they watch 'im with 'is beer; They watch 'im with the women, at the regimental dance, And the cruel tyrant sergeants send 'is name along for "Lance."

An' now 'e's 'arf o' nothin', an' all a private yet, 'Is room they up an' rags 'im to see what they will get; They rags 'im low an' cunnin', each dirty trick they can, But 'e learns to sweat 'is temper an' 'e learns to know 'is man.

An', last, a Colour-Sergeant, as such to be obeyed, 'E leads 'is men at cricket, 'e leads 'em on parade; They sees 'em quick an' 'andy, uncommon set an' smart, An' so 'e talks to orficers which 'ave the Core at 'eart.

'E learns to do 'is watchin' without it showin' plain; 'E learns to save a dummy, an' shove 'im straight again; 'E learns to check a ranker that's buyin' leave to shirk; An' 'e learns to make men like 'im so they'll learn to like their work.

An' when it comes to marchin' he'll see their socks are right, An' when it comes to action 'e shows 'em 'ow to sight; 'E knows their ways of thinkin' and just what's in their mind; 'E feels when they are comin' on an' when they've fell be'ind.

'E knows each talkin' corpril that leads a squad astray; 'E feels 'is innards 'eavin', 'is bowels givin' way; 'E sees the blue-white faces all tryin' 'ard to grin, An' 'e stands an' waits an' suffers till it's time to cap 'em in.

An' now the hugly bullets come peckin' through the dust, An' no one wants to face 'em, but every beggar must; So, like a man in irons which isn't glad to go, They moves 'em off by companies uncommon stiff an' slow.

Of all 'is five years' schoolin' they don't remember much Excep' the not retreatin', the step an' keepin' touch.

It looks like teachin' wasted when they duck an' spread an' 'op, But if 'e 'adn't learned 'em they'd be all about the shop!

An' now it's "'Oo goes backward?" an' now it's "'Oo comes on?"

An' now it's "Get the doolies," an' now the captain's gone; An' now it's b.l.o.o.d.y murder, but all the while they 'ear 'Is voice, the same as barrick drill, a-shepherdin' the rear.

'E's just as sick as they are, 'is 'eart is like to split, But 'e works 'em, works 'em, works 'em till 'e feels 'em take the bit; The rest is 'oldin' steady till the watchful bugles play, An' 'e lifts 'em, lifts 'em, lifts 'em through the charge that wins the day!

_The 'eathen in 'is blindness bows down to wood an' stone; 'E don't obey no orders unless they is 'is own; The 'eathen in 'is blindness must end where 'e began, But the backbone of the Army is the noncommissioned man!_

_Keep away from dirtiness--keep away from mess.

Don't get into doin' things rather-more-or-less!

Let's ha' done with abby-nay, kul, an' hazar-ho; Mind you keep your rifle an' yourself jus' so!_

FOOTNOTES:

[6] Not now.

[7] To-morrow.

[8] Wait a bit.