For my set back!
At this point a number of tea-trays were smitten resonantly "off." Tommy dramatically heard them and sang:—
What's that that smites upon my ear,
The sound of cruel guns I hear,
That sound of fear?
More tea-tray.
The British, French and Russians
They are murdering my Prussians:
Why did I make this war?
They're in my way by day, by night: