THE DRUMS
Permission of the Evening Bulletin, Philadelphia
Ere we wonder at his absence, let us tell a little truth
Of the healthy, careless fellow who epitomizes Youth.
We will miss him from the gridiron when the foot ball season comes
For he left his spirit moving to the music of the drums;
For he knows that all the knowledge
He can make his own at college
Will not compensate him wholly for the absence of the drums;
For the rat-tat-tat of drums!
You will miss him from the diamond, the links and tennis court,
Miss the sport.
He's been summoned by the drums!
By the thrilling call of bugles, by the echoing report
Of a cannon fired by Rumor where grim Death is doing sums;
Doing sums with grim precision—
Hell's subtraction and division—
With an abacus of drums;
Not the tiny kettle drums;
Not the snare, or tenor drums;
