THE GENERAL'S LITTLE FUND.

Oh where, oh where is my little wee fund?

Oh where, oh where can it be?

With the pence cut short and the pounds cut long;

Oh where, oh where can it be?

I've travelled about with my little wee fund—

It used to pay for me;

But now it's gone I'm lorn and lone;

Oh where, oh where can it be?

I want to stump through Switzerland;

On the 24th proximo.

To Germany, Sweden, Norway, and

To Denmark I want to go;

I've held out my hat to every flat,

And begged over land and sea,

Humanity dunned, but I have no fund—

Oh where, oh where can it be?

If ever you see a stray bawbee

Whenever, wherever you roam,

Oh, tell him the woe that troubles me so,

And say that it keeps me at home.

I may mention that what you do, like a shot

Must be done to be useful to me;

At once send a cheque to save us from wreck,

Or the Army will go to the D!