THOSE RUMORS
He sauntered in
With a knowing grin,
The news he'd been to hear;
We knew right well
He'd come to tell
The latest from the rear.
"A hundred went," he said, "to-day,
"Five hundred more must go they say;
"Looks bad, Bill, guess you're on your way;
"Darn few of us can hope to stay.
"I got this straight from a friend of mine,
"A friend of his in Company 9,
"Heard from a friend in Company 10,
"That Company 5 lost fifty men."
With this you'd think
Our hopes would sink,
It ought to change our humor.
We knew the source,
So smiled of course,
It was an L. T. rumor.
WAR'S HORRORS
I hate to talk of a Regular
Without the proper respect;
But given a chance to criticize,
There's a bunch that I'd select.
And they are those musical miscreants,
Those malefactors of noise,
Those rookie Second Cavalrymen,
The amateur bugle boys.
They blow retreat,
And from head to feet
Coagulate your spine;
Or at company drill
They send a chill
A-shivering down the line.
Just try to salute
To their twittering toot,
Their yodeling, rasping groan,
Their blithering bleat,
And you'll swear that they beat
The Hindu quarter-tone,
By Gad!
The Hindu quarter-tone.
THE CALL
Spring to arms, ye sons of freedom,
Lift your country's ensign high;
Join her undefeated Army,
Succor France, her old ally.
Stand for freedom, truth and justice,
Crush the Prussian tyrant's power;
Emulate your worthy forebears
In their Homeland's crucial hour.
Britain, mother of your nation;
France, her hope in ages past;
Belgium, home of peaceful people,
Seared by foul oppression's blast;
Russia, newly born to freedom;
Seeking honor, God and right,
Call on you to aid in crushing,
Prussianism's cursed blight.
Are ye men? Then meet the challenge
As your fathers did of old;
Help the cause of all the races,
With your muscle, brain, and gold.