III.—WHEN JIM IS QUITE GROWN UP
When Jim is quite grown up,
And has a bulldog pup,
And sits up very late
Always till half-past eight,
Then, when he is a man,
He means to marry Ann.
Her age is twenty-two,
But he thinks she will do;
He has not told her yet,
Or she might be upset
At having got to wait
Until this distant date.
The life that he will lead
Sounds very fine indeed:
Adventures, wounds, and fights,
And hunting raids of nights;
Murders and blug and fun
With sword and axe and gun.
Airships and hydroplanes,
Mustangs and prairie flames!
Deserts and jungles vast,
And, when quite tired at last
With being on the roam,
Of course, he would come home.
And, after miles of tramp,
Reel, wounded, into camp,
Bound with a handkerchief,
And munching bully-beef;
While Ann at the camp fire
Would listen and admire.
What fun he will have, too!
Nothing he will not do.
He often says to me
(Excepting the V.C.)
Medals he would decline—
They are not in his line.
But he would soar to fame
And win a glorious name.
And Ann? How odd you are!
Why, just like his Mamma,
Would sit at home and sew,
Like women do, you know.
