I am stumpless quite since from the shot
Of Cerro Gordo peggin',
I left behind, to pay Gen. Scott,
My grub, and gave my leg in.
I dare not turn to view the place
Lest Yankee toes should find me.
And mocking shake before my face
The Leg I Left Behind Me,
At Buena Vista I was sure
That Yankee troops must surrender,
And bade my men hurrah, for you're
All going on a bender.
That all my hopes and plans were dashed,
My scattered troops remind me,
But though I there got soundly thrashed,
I left no leg behind me.
Should Gen. Taylor of my track get scent,
Or Gen. Scott beat up my quarters,
I may as well just be content
To go across the waters.
But should that my fortune be,
Fate has not quite resigned me,
For in the museum I will see
The Leg I Left Behind Me.
This tune is played most every time the drums, fifes and bands play, and it seems to be the favorite tune for us boys. I have written a great deal more than I first intended to write, but I will now come to a close by saying, that if I was at home you would not catch me out here to fight old Santa Anna. It also gives me pleasure to state that my health has been, since I have been in this tierres calientes, remarkably good. I weigh more now than I ever did, one hundred and fifty-five pounds, which is fifteen pounds more than I ever weighed. It makes no difference how much I suffer, so long as I keep my health and strength I will not complain.
