I’m able to somewhat unmask him,
To learn ’bout his arm. He seems passive and calm,
There’s nothing like cheek—no—I’ll ask him.
* * * * *
“How did I lose my arm, sir?”
(The grey-headed veteran rose),
“Well, come, fill up my pot, I’d as lief tell as not,”
(And he fell in a “Bagonet” pose—
You know—stand at ease—right leg forward
The right arm—or sleeve—on the breast-ee’s,