THE ROUTE MARCH.
(In Training.)
We've got our foreign-service boots—we've 'ad 'em 'alf a day;
If it wasn't for the Adjutant I'd sling the brutes away;
If I could 'ave my old ones back I'd give a fortnight's pay,
And chuck 'em in the pair I got this morning!
We've marched a 'undred miles to-day, we've 'undreds more to go,
An' if you don't believe me, why, I'll tell you 'ow I know—
I've measured out the distance by the blister on my toe,
For I got my foreign-service boots this morning!
We've got our foreign-service boots—I wish that I was dead;
I wish I'd got the Colonel's 'orse an' 'im my feet instead;
I wish I was a nacrobat, I'd walk upon my 'ead,
For I got my foreign-service boots this morning!
We're 'oppin' and we're 'obblin' to a cock-eyed ragtime tune,
Not a soul what isn't limpin' in the bloomin' 'ole balloon.
But buck you up, my com-e-rades, we're off to Flanders soon,
For we got our foreign-service boots this morning!
"The full tale of the German losses is being sedulously concealed. Their battered ships are licking their wounds under the Kaiser's moustache, which has been badly singed."—The Star.
It is thought that by this time they have had quite enough of his lip.
"No further infantry attack had been delivered by either side in this area between June 3rd and June 5th. At least four battleships belonging to three different German regiments have been identified as having taken part in the original attack."
Newcastle Daily Journal.
Now we understand why the Germans were in such a hurry to get home from Jutland.
Town Lady. "By-the-by, Sir William, do tell me. I've been wondering all the afternoon how you tell the time by this sundial."