I travel with the cooking-pots and pails—
I’m sandwiched ’tween the coffee and the pork—
And when the dusty column checks and tails,
You should hear me spur the rearguard to a walk!
With my “Pilly-willy-winky-winky popp!”
(Oh, it’s any tune that comes into my head!)
So I keep ’em moving forward till they drop;
So I play ’em up to water and to bed.
—Kipling.