Rhymes of the Rookies | Page 9

ungainly figure!
I stopped, then staggered back,
Thinking it an
ancient spirit

That had wandered from its track.
A campaign hat was on his head,
With strap beneath his chin,
On
his legs some battered leggins,
And his shoes were old and thin.
On
his shoulder was a musket,
Red with the rust of years,
Like himself,

the whole equipment,
Seemed to justify my fears.
"What masquerade is this"? said I,
Though my breath came quick and
short,
Then he, from force of habit,
Brought his rifle to a port.

"Long years ago," he answered,
In a mild and patient tone,
"There
was trouble in Chihuahua,
Where Villa used to roam.
"When I left the States for Mexico,
With the Regular Cavalry,
We
numbered several thousand,
Young, healthy, strong and free.
All
the others,--they are sleeping
On the hillside over there,
Far from
home and loving kindred
And the native country dear.
"Perhaps twenty died from sickness,
Victims of the fever's rage,
Or
amoebic dysentery,
All the rest,--from ripe old age!
I'm the last of
all those thousands,
Through this place I still must roam,
Waiting
for expected orders--
Welcome orders to go HOME."
WITH PERSHING IN MEXICO
When I've served out this enlistment,
And my time in the Reserves,

Why, I am going to treat yours truly
To the treat that he deserves.

For I am tired chasing Villa,
In this God-forsaken land,
When
there's nothing much but cactus
And the useless miles of sand.
Where the Rio Grande is flowing,
By El Paso near Fort Bliss,

There's a little girl worth knowin',
And she's a'savin' me a kiss.
Oh,
I met her once a'walking,
With red corals in her hair;
Where the greasers sit a'talking,
In the little public square.
There's
real food there; white women;
Most things a man could want;
And
a pool to go in swimmin'
And a Chinese restaurant;
Where, across
the hot Chop Suey;
If you give the Chink a wink,
He'll produce a
little teapot,
Full of something good to drink.
Oh, I'm tired of Cactus whiskey,
That they stop the trucks to sell;


For one bottle's mighty risky,
And two starts a man for hell.
And
the first time that I'm able,
When they hand me my discharge,

Watch me lean across the table,
And say: "Bo, give me a drink of
'large.'"
So good-bye, Adobe ladies;
My regards to Uncle Sam;
Let old
Pancho go to Hades;
Adios to Col. Dublan!
They can't bind me
with a lasso,
Once this little Doughboy's free;
There's a girl right in
El Paso,
That I'm bound he's going to see.
For she's waitin', my Anita;
In the Plaza, in the Square;
Where the
little fenced-in fountain
Throws its water in the air;
Where the old
pet alligator stays,
And winks his knowin' eye,
And says, "Patience,
Senorita,"
He'll be with you by an' by.
OLD BALDY
The "Black Eagle" said, "I think it but fair,
That I should be ruler of
both land and air,
And have all the other birds under my reign.
How
great I shall be over such a domain."
The others protested, saying, "This you can't do;
We'll never submit
to a swell-head like you.
Before we'll come under your despotic rod,

We'll fight to the very last drop of our blood."
But the "Black Eagle" answered: "I'll have what I wish;
I'll pay you
for suckers, and catch a big fish;
I'll clip your wings off with a big
pair of shears
That I have been grinding, the last forty years.
"I'll hook my big talons right into your breast,
And get a wild 'Turkey'
to help do the rest.
We'll pluck that fine plumage all off from your
back;
And you'll find desolation the brand of my track."
And so the fight started. It waxed fierce and long;
And proved the
"Black Eagle" unusually strong.
With three years of fighting, he still

was intact,
And seemed to be victor--in fight and in fact.
But at this very moment of luck for the "Black,"
A venerable eagle
flew into his track.
He was gray, he was bald, he was ancient as well;

And just where he came from, there's no use to tell.
This "Bald-headed Eagle" was hailed with delight,
When the other
birds saw he was going to fight;
But when they beheld the tactics
employed,
By "Baldy the Great One," they were overjoyed.
For he hooked his curved bill in the top of the head
Of "Old Blackey
the Terror," then quietly said:
"Just watch my talons clip up to his
throat.
With one still free, I will pick this old bloat."
The struggle was fierce, and the feathers flew high;
The "Black
One's" fine plumage came off rapidly;
"Old Baldy's" quick work, and
to make good his word,
Left nary a feather stick on the Black bird.
The fight at last ended; the "Black" gave it up,
With "Baldy"
victorious, awarded the cup;
But the "Black One" was stripped of all
honor and fame.
Has a place in this world with a dishonored name.
It may be a fable, but history records
This defeat of the "Fowl of
Great Boasting Words."
How the "Prussian Black Eagle" that thought
he could scratch, Found in "Old Baldy" far more than his match.
"KAISER BILL"
There's a Guy across the Sea,
And the "Devil's own" is he.
Death!
Destruction! Misery!
That's the Kaiser.
Don't you fancy he's a fool.

Satan