WATER IS BEST.
(General Villa, who is a teetotaler, has denounced General Huerta as an old drunkard.)
When sons of Bacchus
Fiercely attack us,
Lauding the majesty of Alcohol,
And, spite of Horsley,
Indulge quite coarsely
In panegyrics of dry Monopole—
For consolation
In our vexation
The news from Mexico we gladly hail,
Learning how Villa
Shuns Manzanilla
And only slakes his thirst with Adam's ale.
No wonder Wilson
The beer of Pilsen
Regards as liquid death within the pot,
When even a bandit
Can't stick or stand it,
And gibes at Huerta as an aged sot!
Let senile soakers
And jaded jokers
Their bottle-noses still incarnadine,
But we, with Villa,
Prefer Vanilla
Or Sarsaparilla to the choicest wine.
Port, brandy, sherry
Make idiots merry—
They're little use when civil wars begin;
Men who can slaughter
Upon barley-water
Are in the long run always bound to win.