Did his utmost to reduce it,
Threw away a pair of bedsocks,
And a tie his aunt had sent him,
Sighed to leave his bed behind him,
Wrought by Private Woggs, his batman,
Wrought from bits of ration boxes,
And a scrap of wire netting.
Then at last one summer evening,
In July of 1916,
Tiadatha and the Dudshires