“Then,” said the Captain, portentously, clearing his throat, “you shall listen to one of mine, whether you like it or not–nay, the more you dislike it the longer and longer it will be. I begin to understand why soldiers want to sing when on the march; and also why they put up with such rotten songs.
“The Druids waved their golden knives
And danced around the Oak,
When they had sacrificed a man;
But though the learned search and scan
No single modern person can
Entirely see the joke;
But though they cut the throats of men
They cut not down the tree,
And from the blood the saplings sprang