5 i 4 RUDYARD KIPLING'S VERSE
The young recruit is 'appy 'e throws a chest to suit; You see 'im grow mustaches; you 'ear 'im slap 'is boot; 'E learns to drop the "bloodies" from every word 'e slings, An' 'e shows an 'ealthy brisket when 'e strips for bars an' rings.
The cruel-tyrant-sergeants they watch 'im 'arf a year; They watch 'im with 'is comrades, they watch 'im with 'is
beer;
They watch 'im with the women at the regimental dance, And the cruel-tyrant-sergeants send 'is name along for
"Lance."
An' now 'e's 'arf o' nothin', an' all a private yet, 'Is room they up an' rags 'im to see what they will get. They rags 'im low an' cunnin', each dirty trick they can, But 'e learns to sweat 'is temper an' 'e learns to sweat 'is man.
An', last, a Colour-Sergeant, as such to be obeyed, 'E schools 'is men at cricket, 'e tells 'em on parade; They sees 'im quick an' 'andy, uncommon set an' smart, An' so 'e talks to orficers which 'ave the Core at 'eart.
'E learns to do 'is watchin' without it showin' plain; 'E learns to save a dummy, an' shove 'im straight again; 'E learns to check a ranker that's buyin' leave to shirk; An' 'e learns to make men like 'im so they'll learn to like their work.
An' when it comes to marchin* he'll see their socks are right, An* when it comes to action 'e shows 'em how to sight. 'E knows their ways of thinkin' and just what's in their mind; 'E knows when they are takin' on an' when they've fell be'ind.
