I've got my gun—they're going back,
I heard a cart, I know!”
“My cart,” says Sergeant Tom, with pride,
“Take care, you musn't shake,
I've got six wounded men inside,
Who badly need some cake!
“I'm 'fraid this one is rather bad,
He's lost a lot of paint.”
“Poor fellow,” Rosie cries, “how sad,
I hope that he won't faint!