Part 6 (1/2)

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, G.o.d and right, Call on you to aid in crus.h.i.+ng, 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: On the firing Line ”A Miss At 5 O'clock”]

BEANS

Consider then the Army bean So various and quaint.

Sometimes we find they're just plain beans, And then again they ain't.

They're funny shades of yellow, Brown, green, and red, and white; While striped and spotted, polka dotted Beans our taste delight.

But nix on beans Manchurian, And beans of age Silurian, Which same could stand a buryin', When they come on--Good Night!

FORWARD ”?”

On the parade, Soft and low, Rookie hiccoughed, ”Forward, Ho!”

Another youngster Feeling smart, Tried to shout, ”Forward, Hart!”

One requested, ”Forward, How!”

From somewhere else, There came a ”Yow!”

Perhaps a mile or so away We heard not ”Harp!” nor ”Harch!”

But stalwart Major Koehler's voice Thunder, ”Forward, March!”

CHANT OF A DERELICT

Sad is my song, mates, for I've got the axe, I've got to go, I've got to go; Farewell to Plattsburg and life in the shacks, Home I must go, I must go.

Told not to let such a small matter grieve me, Sent to the parents who hate to receive me, Hearing my story, they'll never believe me, I've got to go, got to go.

No more to sleep in a two-story bunk, Back I must go, I must go; No more to sag 'neath a pack full of junk, Home I must go, I must go.