You Never Can Tell
Harry had two Munson feet
That grew like ice and snow
At bare suggestion of the thought
That he to War should go.
But when the Draft got him one day
His face grew stern and grim;
And ere he'd been in camp a month
They'd made a man of him.
'Twas "Captain Harry" soon in France.
Midst fighting over there
He got two wounds, a D. S. C.,
Also the Croix de Guerre.
The moral in this simple tale
You've guessed, I have no doubt:
You cannot tell whats in a man
Until he's tested out.
