502 RUDYARD KIPLING'S VERSE
Then strike your camp an' go, the*Rains are falling
The Bugles calliri !
The dead are bushed an 1 stoned to keep 'em safe below ! An' them that do not like it they can lump it, An' them that can not stand it they can jump it; We've got to die somewhere some way some'ow We might as well begin to do it now I Then, Number One, let down the tent-pole slow, Knock out the pegs an' 'old the corners so ! Fold in the jties^furl up the ropes, an stow ! Oh, strike oh, strike your camp an go !
(Gawd 'elp us /)
THE LADIES
I'VE taken my fun where I've found it;
I've rogued an' I've ranged in my time; I've 'ad my pickin' o' sweethearts,
An' four o' the lot was prime. One was an 'arf-caste widow,
One was a woman at Prome, One was the wife of ajemadar-sais, 1
An' one is a girl at 'ome.
Now I aren't no 'and with the ladies,
For, takin' 'em all along, You never can say till you've tried 'em,
An' then you are like to be wrong. There's times when you'll think that you mightn't,
There's times when you'll know that you might; But the things you will learn from the Yellow an' Brown,
They'll 'elp you a lot with the White !
1 Head-groom.