538 RUDYARD KIPLING'S VERSE
Before 'im I 'ave seen my Colonel fall, An* watched 'im write my Captain's epitaph, So that a long way off it could be read He 'as the knack o' makin' men feel small Old Whistle Tip, 'oo is n't on the Staff.
There is no sense in fleein' (I 'ave fled), Better go on an' do the belly-crawl, An' 'ope 'e '11 'it some other man instead Of you 'e seems to 'unt so speshual Fitzy van Spitz, 'oo is n't on the Staff.
An* thus in mem'ry's cinematograph,
Now that the show is over, I recall
The peevish voice an' 'oary mushroom 'ead
Of 'im we owned was greater than us all,
'Oo give instruction to the quick an' the dead-
The Shudderin' Beggar not upon the Staff!
BOOTS
(Infantry Columns)
TE'RE foot slog slog slog sloggin* over Africa!
Foot foot foot foot sloggin' over Africa
(Boots boots boots boots movin' up and down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!
Seven six eleven five nine-an '-twenty mile to-day Four eleven seventeen thirty-two the day before (Boots boots boots boots movin' up and down again !) There's no discharge in the war!
Don't don't don't don't look at what's in front of you. (Boots boots boots boots movin' up an' down again); Men men men men men go mad with watchin' 'em,
An' there's no discharge in the war!