You Never Can Tell
Harry had two Munson feet
That grew like ice and snow
At bare suggestion of the thought
That he to War should go.
But when the Draft got him one day
His face grew stern and grim;
And ere he'd been in camp a month
They'd made a man of him.
'Twas "Captain Harry" soon in France.
Midst fighting over there
He got two wounds, a D. S. C.,
Also the Croix de Guerre.
The moral in this simple tale
You've guessed, I have no doubt:
You cannot tell whats in a man
Until he's tested out.
An Ounce of Prevention
When first the Flu our old town hit
I said I'd keep from getting;
So I went home and with great care
I shut out drafts and shut out air.
I sprinkled sulphur in my shoes,
Then loaded up on blockade booze,
Some calomel and "C.C." pills,
Then castor oil up to my gills.
Each hour on soda I did feast;
I swallowed cakes of Fleischmann's yeast;
I ate ten onions, mighty nigh,
Then drank a slug of Good Old Rye;
Some asafoet'da round my neck,
Then took quinine, about a peck.
To keep from feeling all forlorn
I fraternized with Barleycorn;
Then aspirin, say twenty grains,
And codeine to keep off pains.
I chewed tobacco, smoked it, too,
Then took a dip of Mountain Dew.
I crawled in bed to get a rest,
Vick's Vaporub smeared on my chest.
I changed to woolen underduds
And carried 'round two Irish spuds;
I sprayed and gargled, wore a mask,
Snuffed Listerine, then tried my flask.
I felt my pulse; at tongue a look,
And then my temper'ture I took.
But strange to say quite sick I grew—
The doctor says I've got the Flu!
I guess he's right, but this is sure:
Right now I need the likker cure.
——————
I wonder if I'd stayed up town,
Cut out the dope, kept worry down,
Stayed right at work, not had a drink—
Would I have Flu? What do you think?