In a versatile manner the Jumbler approaches sundry themes, wherein is revealed his love for Home, Country and Eats.
| 18 TO 45. |
| You Never Can Tell. |
| An Ounce of Prevention. |
| Fear Not. |
| Eat What's Set Before You. |
| Show Me. |
| Damfino Jones. |
| Silent Bill. |
| Buster Boy. |
| Not Forgetting Dad. |
18 to 45
The Jumbler found the niche in which he fit—for just one day.
I'm something over eighteen, yet
I'm under forty-five!
I've no flat feet, no leaky valves,
No wife and babes alive.
So—
With no dependent, no defect,
Not e'en a near-sight eye,
Methinks quite soon I'll hear you say:
"So long! Good luck! Good-bye!"
My putteed calves will look a sight—
I'm long, but short on weight—
My feet won't fit the Munson last,
My rising hour is eight.
But—
The army is gwine ter git me,
My name's done been enrolled.
I'd like to be a baby gal
Not more'n one year old!
I'm old enough, I'm young enough
To do some thing, I guess;
So I'll just stop my foolish talk
And say, "I'm ready, yes!"
For
There's not a job, there's not a niche
But needs some man to fit.
For you and me there's just one thing:
Go in and do our bit!
They found a job, they found the niche
They said that I would fit;
And in Argonne one foggy morn
They said, "Now do your bit!"
Wow!
Old Jerry seemed to know I'd come;
His shells all came my way!
Ugh! Mustard gas! * * * Then mustered out—
I didn't last one day!