Barrack-Room Ballads | Page 7

where a dooli lay,
An' a bullet come an'
drilled the beggar clean.
'E put me safe inside,
An' just before 'e
died,
"I 'ope you liked your drink", sez Gunga Din.
So I'll meet 'im
later on
At the place where 'e is gone --
Where it's always double
drill and no canteen;
'E'll be squattin' on the coals
Givin' drink to
poor damned souls,
An' I'll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!
Yes, Din! Din! Din!
You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
Though I've belted you and flayed you,
By the livin' Gawd that made
you,
You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
Oonts
(Northern India Transport Train)

Wot makes the soldier's 'eart to penk, wot makes 'im to perspire? It isn't
standin' up to charge nor lyin' down to fire;
But it's everlastin' waitin'
on a everlastin' road
For the commissariat camel an' 'is commissariat
load.
O the oont, O the oont, O the commissariat oont!
With 'is silly neck
a-bobbin' like a basket full o' snakes; We packs 'im like an idol, an' you
ought to 'ear 'im grunt, An' when we gets 'im loaded up 'is blessed
girth-rope breaks.
Wot makes the rear-guard swear so 'ard when night is drorin' in, An'
every native follower is shiverin' for 'is skin?
It ain't the chanst o'
being rushed by Paythans from the 'ills, It's the commissariat camel
puttin' on 'is bloomin' frills!
O the oont, O the oont, O the hairy scary oont!
A-trippin' over
tent-ropes when we've got the night alarm! We socks 'im with a
stretcher-pole an' 'eads 'im off in front, An' when we've saved 'is
bloomin' life 'e chaws our bloomin' arm.
The 'orse 'e knows above a bit, the bullock's but a fool,
The elephant's
a gentleman, the battery-mule's a mule;
But the commissariat
cam-u-el, when all is said an' done,
'E's a devil an' a ostrich an' a
orphan-child in one.
O the oont, O the oont, O the Gawd-forsaken oont!
The lumpy-'umpy
'ummin'-bird a-singin' where 'e lies,
'E's blocked the whole division
from the rear-guard to the front, An' when we get him up again -- the
beggar goes an' dies!
'E'll gall an' chafe an' lame an' fight -- 'e smells most awful vile; 'E'll
lose 'isself for ever if you let 'im stray a mile;
'E's game to graze the
'ole day long an' 'owl the 'ole night through, An' when 'e comes to
greasy ground 'e splits 'isself in two.
O the oont, O the oont, O the floppin', droppin' oont!
When 'is long

legs give from under an' 'is meltin' eye is dim, The tribes is up be'ind us,
and the tribes is out in front -- It ain't no jam for Tommy, but it's kites
an' crows for 'im.
So when the cruel march is done, an' when the roads is blind, An' when
we sees the camp in front an' 'ears the shots be'ind, Ho! then we strips
'is saddle off, and all 'is woes is past: 'E thinks on us that used 'im so,
and gets revenge at last.
O the oont, O the oont, O the floatin', bloatin' oont!
The late lamented
camel in the water-cut 'e lies;
We keeps a mile be'ind 'im an' we keeps
a mile in front, But 'e gets into the drinkin'-casks, and then o' course we
dies.
Loot
If you've ever stole a pheasant-egg be'ind the keeper's back, If you've
ever snigged the washin' from the line,
If you've ever crammed a
gander in your bloomin' 'aversack, You will understand this little song
o' mine.
But the service rules are 'ard, an' from such we are debarred,
For the same with English morals does not suit.
(Cornet: Toot! toot!)
W'y, they call a man a robber if 'e stuffs 'is
marchin' clobber With the --
(Chorus) Loo! loo! Lulu! lulu! Loo! loo!
Loot! loot! loot!
Ow the loot!
Bloomin' loot!
That's the thing to make the boys git up
an' shoot!
It's the same with dogs an' men,
If you'd make 'em come again
Clap 'em forward with a Loo! loo! Lulu!
Loot!
(ff) Whoopee! Tear 'im, puppy! Loo! loo! Lulu! Loot! loot! loot!
If you've knocked a nigger edgeways when 'e's thrustin' for your life,
You must leave 'im very careful where 'e fell;
An' may thank your

stars an' gaiters if you didn't feel 'is knife That you ain't told off to