INOCULATION DAY
My blood the surgeons fortify
With antiseptic serum;
The dread bacilli I defy,
What cause have I to fear 'em?
We form outside the pest-house door
At one o'clock precisely,
But if we get our dose at four
We think we're doing nicely.
And in our arm the surgeon stabs
A hypodermic squirter,
E'en as the hungry hobo jabs
His fork in a frankfurter.
I'm full of dope for smallpox germs,
For typhus and such evils,
For broken heart and army worms,
For chestnut blight and weevils.
I'm doped against the bayonet
Wielded by German demons;
But no one seems to think I'll get
Dear old delirium tremens.