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+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of War Rhymes, by Wayfarer (Abner Cosens)
+    </title>
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of War Rhymes, by Abner Cosens
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: War Rhymes
+
+Author: Abner Cosens
+
+Release Date: September 22, 2006 [EBook #19358]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAR RHYMES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Clarke, Joseph R. Hauser and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<p class="notes"> Transcriber's Note:  Many typographical errors were corrected in
+this text.  See expanded notes at the bottom for a complete list.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 343px;">
+<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="343" height="600" alt="title page" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="FOREWORD" id="FOREWORD"></a>FOREWORD</h2>
+
+
+<p>The reader of this booklet is not expected to agree with everything in
+it. The rhymes express only the impressions made on the writer at the
+time by the varied incidents and conditions arising out of the great
+war, and some of them did not apply when circumstances changed.</p>
+
+<p>They have been printed as written, however, and, if they serve no other
+purpose, may at least help us to recall some things that too soon have
+nearly passed out of our minds.</p>
+
+<p>The outbreak of hostilities, the invasion of Belgium, the Old Land in
+it and the rush of the British born to enlist, the early indifference of
+the majority of Canadians, the unemployment and distress of the winter
+of 1914-15, the heartlessness of Germany, Canada stirred by the valor of
+her first battalions, recruiting general throughout the country, the
+slackness of the United States, financial and political profiteering in
+all countries, smaller European nations playing for position, Italy
+joining the Allies, the debacle of Russia, the awful casualty lists, the
+return of disabled soldiers, the ceaseless war work of our women, the
+United States at last declaring war on Germany, the final line up and
+defeat of the Hun, and the horror and apparent uselessness of it all;
+some reflection of all these may be found by the reader in these simple
+rhymes.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="MODERN_DIPLOMACY_OR_HOW_THE_WAR_STARTED" id="MODERN_DIPLOMACY_OR_HOW_THE_WAR_STARTED"></a>MODERN DIPLOMACY, OR HOW THE WAR STARTED</h2>
+
+<h4>August, 1914</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Said Austria,&mdash;"You murderous Serb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You the peace of all Europe disturb;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Get down on your knees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And apologize, please,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or I'll kick you right off my front curb."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Said Serbia,&mdash;"Don't venture too far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or I'll call in my uncle, the Czar;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He won't see me licked,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Nor insulted, nor kicked,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So you better leave things as they are."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Said the Kaiser,&mdash;"That Serb's a disgrace.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We must teach him to stay in his place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">If Russia says boo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">I'm in the game, too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And right quickly we'll settle the case."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Czar said,&mdash;"My cousin the Kaiser,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was always a good advertiser;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He's determined to fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And insists he is right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But soon he'll be older and wiser."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"For forty-four summers," said France,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I have waited and watched for a chance<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To wrest Alsace-Lorraine<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From the Germans again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now is the time to advance."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Said Belgium,&mdash;"When armies immense<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pour over my boundary fence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">I'll awake from my nap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And put up a scrap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They'll remember a hundred years hence."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Said John Bull,&mdash;"This 'ere Kaiser's a slob,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And 'is word isn't worth 'arf a bob,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">(If I lets Belgium suffer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">I'm a blank bloomin' duffer)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So 'ere goes for a crack at 'is nob."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span><span class="i0">Said Italy,&mdash;"I think I'll stay out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till I know what this row is about;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">It's a far better plan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Just to sell my banan',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the issue is plain beyond doubt."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Said our good uncle Samuel, "I swaow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I had better keep aout of this raow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">For with Mormons, and Niggers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And Greasers, I figgers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have all I kin handle just naow."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_ALLIED_FORCES" id="THE_ALLIED_FORCES"></a>THE ALLIED FORCES</h2>
+
+<h4>November, 1914</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When Johnnie Bull pledges his word,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To keep it he'll gird on his sword,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">While allies and sons<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Will shoulder their guns;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The prince, and the peasant, and lord.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">First there's bold Tommy Aitkins himself,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a shilling a day of poor pelf,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And for love of his King,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And the fun of the thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He fights till he's laid on the shelf.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Brave Taffy is ready to go<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As soon as the war bugles blow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He fights like the diel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">When it comes to cold steel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dies with his face to the foe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Donald from North Inverness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who fights in a ballet girl's dress;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He likes a free limb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">No tight skirts for him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Impending his march to success.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The gun runner, stern, from Belfast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now stands at the head of the mast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">If a tempest should come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Or a mine or a bomb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He will stick to his post to the last.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span><span class="i0">And Hogan, that broth of a lad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Home Ruler from Bally-na-fad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Writes&mdash;"I'm now in the trench<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With the English and French,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we're licking the Germans, be dad!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Cockney Canuck from Toronto,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whom Maple leaves hardly stick on to,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Made haste to enlist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To fight the mailed fist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Canadian born didn't want to.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From where the wide-winged albatross<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Floats white 'neath the Southern Cross,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">There came the swift cruisers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And Germans are losers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Australians want no Kaiser boss.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From sheep run, pine forest and fern,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stalwart New Zealanders turn<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To the land of their sires,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">For with ancestral fires<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their bosoms in ardor still burn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The tall, turbanned, heathen Hindoo<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is proud to be in the game too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">For the joy of his life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Is to help in the strife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the sahibs, and see the war through.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Frenchman who made wooden shoes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While airing his Socialist views,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Deserted his bench<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">For the horrible trench,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As soon as he heard the war news.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The wild, woolly, grinning, Turco,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From where the fierce desert winds blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Will give up his life<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In the thick of the strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And go where the good niggers go.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The versatile Jap's in the game,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because of a treaty he came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">For old Johnnie Bull,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Will have his hands full,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bellicose Germans to tame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span><span class="i0">The hard riding Cossack and Russ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the very first sign of a fuss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Cried&mdash;"Long live the white Czar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">We are off to the war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more Nihilist nonsense for us."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The bold Belgian burgher from Brussels,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has fought in a hundred hard tussles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And is still going strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Nor will it be long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere the foe back to Berlin he hustles.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The hardy cantankerous Serb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whom even the Turk couldn't curb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In having a go<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With Emperor Joe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will the plans of the Kaiser disturb.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The fierce mountaineers of King Nick<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Got into the ring good and quick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">They are never afraid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">For to fight is their trade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While their wives have the living to pick.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_MODERN_GOOD_SAMARITAN" id="THE_MODERN_GOOD_SAMARITAN"></a>THE MODERN GOOD SAMARITAN</h2>
+
+<h4>December, 1914</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The road that leads to Jericho,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By thieves is still beset,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Kaiser Bill, the highwayman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is there already yet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thrown thick o'er half a Continent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His blood-stained victims lie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The priest, in horror, lifts his hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Levite passes by.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The modern Good Samaritan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Kind-hearted Uncle Sam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Exclaims, "This thing gets on my nerves<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I'll send a cablegram.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But while the cash is going free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I'll see what I can get,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And since these chaps are down and out;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I'll steal their trade, you bet."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SATANS_SOLILOQUY" id="SATANS_SOLILOQUY"></a>SATAN'S SOLILOQUY</h2>
+
+<h4>November, 1914</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hell hath enlarged its borders,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While Satan sits in state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gives his servants orders<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To open wide the gate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"My most successful agent,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Said he, "is Kaiser Bill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just watch his daily pageant<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of souls come down the hill.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His friends who sacked the city;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His slaves who raped the nuns;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His ghouls devoid of pity&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The bloody, lustful Huns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The 'scrap of paper' liars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The burners of Louvain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall feed hell's hottest fires<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With Judas and with Cain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The unfenced city raiders,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The crew of submarine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sank the unarmed traders<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To vent the Kaiser's spleen.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wreckage of the nations,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ten million dwellings lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Murders and mutilations,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The world's great holocaust.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The workman's scanty wages,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The souls of sunken ships;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The faith and hope of ages,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The prayers from human lips;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The livelihood of millions,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The commerce and the trade;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The untold wasted billions<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Man's industry had made.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For these I thank the Kaiser;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His efforts please me well;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The world becomes no wiser;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It's growing time in hell."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_CANADIAN_WAY" id="THE_CANADIAN_WAY"></a>THE CANADIAN WAY</h2>
+
+<h4>January, 1915</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When times are good, and labor dear<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We coax the British workman here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And should he shrink to cross the drink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We tell him he has naught to fear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But when the times are hard and straight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His is indeed a sorry fate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We let him die, with starving cry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like Lazarus, beside our gate.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When all the battle flags are furled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And wolf and lamb together curled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We loudly sing,&mdash;"God Save the King,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bid defiance to the world.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When some must go to bear the brunt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And check the German Kaiser's stunt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We still can brag, and wave the flag,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But send the British to the front.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When Princess Pats charge down the pike,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And put the Germans on the hike,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We shout,&mdash;"Hooray for Canaday!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The world has never seen our like."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But when word comes across the waves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The first contingent misbehaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We cry aloud to all the crowd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"Them British born are fools or knaves."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When other men with sword and gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Would stop the fierce destroying Hun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We count the cost as money lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And still look out for number one.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When other lands attain their goal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our name will blacken Heaven's scroll,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thing of scorn, all men to warn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A country that has lost its soul.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_ENGLISH_WOMANS_COMPLAINT" id="THE_ENGLISH_WOMANS_COMPLAINT"></a>The English Woman's Complaint</h2>
+
+<h4>March, 1915</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We want to ask Canadians<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To treat us not as fools;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We cannot learn to play the game<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Until we learn the rules.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We ask them not to try to take<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The mote from our eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor say, till their own beam's removed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"No English need apply."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We try to be Canadians,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It's 'ard we must confess,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To drop our English adjectives<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And learn to say "I guess,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We've chucked the bread and cheese and beer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We learning to eat pie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So please cut out that nasty slur,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"No English need apply."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We came 'ere for our children's sake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(At 'ome they 'ad no show)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though 'tain't just what we thought it was,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This land of frost and snow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we never shrink at 'ardships,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And we've come 'ere to stiy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So hustle down that bloomin' sign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"No English need apply."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We aren't no cooking experts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And couldn't make a blouse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, till our 'usbands married us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We never 'ad kept 'ouse;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then we 'ad our families,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But that's no reason why,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As you should flash your dirty ads,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"No English need apply."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At learning to economize<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Perhaps we're rather slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when you call for volunteers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our sons and 'usbands go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In all of your contingents<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Canadians are shy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Colonel Sam 'as never said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"No English need apply."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span><span class="i0">When, steeped in military pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The crazy Kaiser Bill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let loose his hell-directed hordes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To plunder, burn and kill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And British lads took up their guns<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For Freedom's cause to die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brave, blood-stained Belgium didn't say<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"No English need apply."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wherever danger blocks the way<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">An Englishman has led,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No storm-tossed sea, no foreign shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But shelters England's dead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when brave spirits took their flight<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To realms beyond the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We know Saint Peter didn't say<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"No English need apply."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="UNEMPLOYED" id="UNEMPLOYED"></a>UNEMPLOYED</h2>
+
+<h4>April, 1915</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I haven't any way, sir, to earn my daily bread;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Give me a job, I pray, sir, my children must be fed."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"To keep your kids from harm, sir," the city man replied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"There's no place like the farm, sir, the peaceful country side."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I have no work to do, sir," said I to Farmer Sprout;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"So I have come to you, sir, to try to help me out."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He answered: "Can you plow, sir, or build a load of hay?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If you can't milk a cow, sir, you'd better fade away."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Have you a job to-day, sir, to give a working man?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My stomach's full of hay, sir, my children live on bran."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I really can't delay, sir," the busy man replied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Please call some other day, sir, my car is just outside."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span><span class="i0">"I want to find a place, sir," said I to Groucher Black;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I couldn't go the pace, sir, and now I'm off the track."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old Groucher growled in answer, "This town of blasted hopes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has no place for a man, sir, who does not know the ropes."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I'm anxious to enlist, sir, I am a Briton true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To fight the mailed fist, sir, the Kaiser and his crew."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus answered Dr. Brown,&mdash;"Sir, in one main point you lack;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'll have to turn you down, sir, because your teeth don't track."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I'd like to find some work, sir," to Smith, M.P., I spoke;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I really am no shirk, sir, although I'm stony broke."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said he, "You poor old lobster, you have a lot to learn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To get a steady job, sir, you really must intern."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_HATE_OF_HANS" id="THE_HATE_OF_HANS"></a>THE HATE OF HANS</h2>
+
+<h4>April, 1915</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I hate dot teufel, Johnnie Bull,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(Der Kaiser says I must)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mit rage mine heart is filled so full<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sometime I tink I'll bust.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Vot pisness he mit horse and gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dot channel shtream to cross?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vot matter for de tings ve done?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Der Kaiser is de boss.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dose English, yaw, I tells you true!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dey spoil der Kaiser's plans,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shoost cause ve march de Belgium through<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dey kill us Sherman mans.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span><span class="i0">Mine brudder's dead, already, soon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mine sister is von spy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mine cousin rides de big balloon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dot floats up in de sky.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My poys&mdash;dot story I can't wrote,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I lose them, von&mdash;two&mdash;tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven English teufels sink dose boat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vot sail der untersee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mineself, I learn de English talk<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Von time in Milwaukee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hang around de Antwerp dock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und hear vot I can see.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dey tink dey'll shtarve us Shermans oudt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Not yet, already, blease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve still haf lots of saur-kraut,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und goot limburger cheese.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mit blenty peers unt blenty shmokes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und rye bread mixed mit sand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dis is enough for Sherman folks<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat luf de faderland.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ve'll tear dot English heart oudt yet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mit eagle's beak and claws;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shoost now ve can't to London get,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I don't know vy pecause.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ve should haf been dere long ago,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mit dose machine dot flies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But tings seem gooing britty slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Berhaps der Kaiser lies.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HANS_BEGINS_TO_WONDER" id="HANS_BEGINS_TO_WONDER"></a>HANS BEGINS TO WONDER</h2>
+
+<h4>April, 1915</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I vonder if dot's nefer so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shaymeezle Russia take.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You can't pelieve von half you know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Such lies dose papers make.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I vonder if dose tales are true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ve lose most all our ships,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our colonies and commerce too;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I hear tings mit my lips.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span><span class="i0">I vonder if dose Dardanelles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Can shtop der allied fleet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Somedimes to me dere's someting tells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Maype dose Turks get peat.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I vonder, too, if Italy<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vill give to us der bump,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shoost now she's vaiting yet to see<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vichway der cat vill yump.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I vonder can our army shtop<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dose Russian teufels' raid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or vill dey gain de mountain top<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or fail to make de grade.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I vonder if dot Balkan bunch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und Greece und Holland too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should give us britty soon de punch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vot vill der Kaiser do.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I vonder vere der Kaiser shtays<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mit all dose poys of his,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You pet, dey keep a goot long vays<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From vere de bullets whiz.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I vonder if dot kultur's goot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sometimes it is, no doubt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ven it comes to daily foodt<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I luf der saur-kraut.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I vonder if ve all get stung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like vot de Yankees say;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Der Kaiser maype yet get hung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If ve don't vin de day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<hr style='width: 45%;' /><br />
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mine gracious! vot is dat I say?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No von, I hope, don't hear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dose spies vould sell mine life away<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For von goot drink of peer.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span></p>
+<h1><a name="RECRUITING_APPEALS" id="RECRUITING_APPEALS"></a><b>Recruiting<br /> Appeals</b><br /><br /></h1>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="JACK_CANUCK" id="JACK_CANUCK"></a> Jack Canuck</h2>
+
+<h4>October, 1914</h4>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Only forty per cent of the volunteers at Valcartier are Canadian
+born." "A large number of men are being kept at home by their wives
+and mothers."</p>
+
+<p>&mdash;Recent News Items.</p></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our Jack Canuck is active,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He plays a pretty goal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But make swift runs to cover<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When drums begin to roll.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Jack Canuck's unselfish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He lets the honors go<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All to his British brother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When war time bugles blow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Jack Canuck is modest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That's why he chooses rears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sees the front seats taken<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By British volunteers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yes, Jack Canuck's a hero<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose glory never fades;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He'll lick his weight in wild cats<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&mdash;The day his lodge parades.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Jack Canuck's free handed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He sends, (Jack's awful wise),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His dumpling dust in ship loads;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(It pays to advertise).<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For Jack Canuck is thrifty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He wants, when peace is made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To feed the worn out nations,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And capture all the trade.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Miss Canuck and Mrs.,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They value so the lives<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of husband, son and sweetheart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">These daughters, maids and wives.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They'll let the Belgian mother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The French and English maid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Give husband, lover, brother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To stop the Kaiser's raid.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span><span class="i0">They'll see sweet Highland Mary<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Walk life's long path alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hear dear Irish Nora<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wail for the loved ones gone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They'll send a feather pillow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or knit a pair of socks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And think they've done their duty<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By them that take the knocks.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh that our hearts were bigger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And not so worldly wise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'When duty calls, or danger;'<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ready to sacrifice.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHAT_OWEST_THOU" id="WHAT_OWEST_THOU"></a>WHAT OWEST THOU</h2>
+
+<h4>February, 1915</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In blood bought Belgian trenches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On stormy Northern Sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brave hearts of oak are watching,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Protecting you and me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The British wife and mother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The maid with sweetheart dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lest those they love should falter<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hold back the scalding tear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Your King and Country need you,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They say with courage high.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Your fathers, too, were soldiers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And not afraid to die."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like fearless free born Britons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Not Kaiser driven slaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go heroes from the homeland<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To unmarked foreign graves.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Shall we, with path made easy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While others fight and fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In freedom's hour of danger<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Neglect the Empire's call?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Shall we hoard up our dollars?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shall farmers hold their wheat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While children suffer hunger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And workmen walk the street?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span><span class="i0">That land is doomed already<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To black, unending night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose old men worship money;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose young men will not fight.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O, for some John the Baptist!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Some prophet Malachi,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To lash our selfish conscience,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And teach us purpose high.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<hr style='width: 45%;' /><br />
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thank Heaven there's a remnant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A few not quite enslaved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ten just men in Sodom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The city would have saved.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="A_CALL_TO_THE_COLORS" id="A_CALL_TO_THE_COLORS"></a>A CALL TO THE COLORS</h2>
+
+<h4>November, 1915</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ye strong young men of Huron,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ye sons of Britons true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your fathers fought for freedom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And now it's up to you;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your brother's blood is calling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For you they fought and died,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brave boys with souls unconquered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By Huns are crucified.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ten million Hunnish outlaws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Kaiser's tools and slaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have strewn the sea with corpses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And scarred the earth with graves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They know no god but mammon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No law but sword and flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They crush the weaker peoples,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With deeds we dare not name.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">See Belgium rent and bleeding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Kaiser's hellish work,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Armenia vainly pleading<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For mercy from the Turk.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Poles and Serbs are dying<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The victims of the Huns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With anguished voices crying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"O send us men and guns!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span><span class="i0">Think of the Lusitania,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of martyred Nurse Cavell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then say, "Can these be human<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who act like fiends of hell."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Empire's in the conflict,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bound to see it through;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each man the old flag shelters,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Must share the burden too.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then rise, ye sons of Huron,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All hell has broken loose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Kaiser's strafe is on us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With him we make no truce.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, rally to the colors<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till victory is won,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your King and country need you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And duty must be done.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHOOSE_YE" id="CHOOSE_YE"></a>CHOOSE YE</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In times like these, each heart decrees<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A law unto itself;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What shall it be for you and me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Self sacrifice or pelf?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which shall we choose, to win or lose?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our all is in the game:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What shall we give that Truth may live?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How much in Freedom's name?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A hero's heart, an honored name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or coward's part, and shirker's shame?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The awful strife, wounds and disease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or sordid life of selfish ease?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An open purse, our strength in full,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or painted horse and party pull?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The trenches' mud, and trusted word,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or tainted blood, and rusted sword?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soul unafraid, the prayer of faith,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or heart dismayed at thought of death?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The noble deed, the unmarked grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or craven greed our lives to save?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where shall we stand that this fair land<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No Kaiser's strafe shall know?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall never feel the Prussian heel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor German kultur show?<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span><span class="i0">This we will do, if we are true;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Honor the Empire's call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each bear his part with loyal heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lest Britain's flag may fall.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_SLACKERS_SON" id="THE_SLACKERS_SON"></a>THE SLACKER'S SON</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The teacher says at school, dad, that twenty years ago<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Kaiser tried to rule, dad, and plunged the world in woe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Britain needed men, dad, to help to fight the Huns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Boys dropped the plow and pen, dad, to go and man the guns.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Each man he did his share, dad, the loyal, strong and true;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wish I had been there, dad, to fight along with you.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'm glad you met no harm, dad, and wear no wooden peg;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Bill's dad lost an arm, dad, and Jim's dad lost a leg.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Kaiser was so strong, dad, that Britain almost lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The war was hard and long, dad, and none could count the cost.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our men were firm and brave, dad, and freely shed their blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many found a grave, dad, beneath the Flanders mud.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You never say a word, dad, about this awful fight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where is your trusty sword, dad? let's get it out tonight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The other fellows brag, dad, of what their dads have done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Jim's dad has a flag, dad, he captured from a Hun.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Mr. Sandy Ross, dad, who works down at the mill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has a Victoria Cross, dad, for fighting Kaiser Bill;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span><span class="i0">And little Tommy Dagg, dad, the youngest of your clerks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Says his dad was at Bagdad, and shot a hundred Turks.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When we go for a walk, dad, or take our flying car,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You never want to talk, dad, about the mighty war;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Please talk to me tonight, dad, before I go to bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of when you went to fight, dad."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But dad hung down his head.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="BLASTED_HOPES" id="BLASTED_HOPES"></a>BLASTED HOPES</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We hoped to end our troubled days<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Far from the maddening strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Erstwhile to chortle roundelays<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of peaceful country life;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now the phone rings night and morn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The trolleys crash and bang;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We hear the fearsome auto horn<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where once the thrushes sang.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We hoped the children that we raised,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Those stalwart girls and boys;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would follow in the trail we blazed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That selfish ease destroys;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now, when men are needed so<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To fight the mailed fist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our girls won't let their husbands go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor will our sons enlist.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We hoped the pirates all were dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Those horrid buccaneers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who dyed the ocean's waves with red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In wicked bygone years:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now we mourn, as happy days,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That sanguinary past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since Kaiser Bill a hundred ways,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Has Captain Kidd outclassed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span><span class="i0">We hoped that kings had wiser grown<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Since Charles I. lost his head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Bonaparte was overthrown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For painting Europe red;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now we have the greatest kill<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Since cave men fought with stones.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behold the Kaiser's butcher bill!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ten million dead men's bones.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="LANGEMARK" id="LANGEMARK"></a>LANGEMARK</h2>
+
+<h4>May, 1915</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The maple leaf is stained with red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Deeper than autumn's dye;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On foreign fields our noble dead<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their valor testify.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Cut off, out-numbered, ten to one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By wolfish German pack<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our men like heroes fought and won,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They kept the Teutons back.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They held their post, they saved the day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Those young lions from the West;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What higher tribute can we pay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"They fought like Britain's best."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When reinforcements came at last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then woe betide the Huns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From man to man the word was passed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"We must retake the guns."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mid rifle ball and poison bomb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shrapnel and shrieking shell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the hell of Kaiserdom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They charged, while hundreds fell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With fearless eye and ringing cheer<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They made that wild advance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For life was cheap and glory dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Those bloody days in France.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O, life is short to him who gives<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Long years for selfish pay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In righteous cause, the soldier lives<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A lifetime in a day.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_CANADIAN_ARMY" id="THE_CANADIAN_ARMY"></a>THE CANADIAN ARMY</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The news, "the Old Land's in it,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Stirred us one August morn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then waited not a minute<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The fearless British born.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They were the first to offer<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To die for England's name<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Scorning the shirking scoffer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who would not play the game.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But when the German Kaiser<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of victories could brag,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Canadians got wiser<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And rallied round the flag.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Orangemen, stout-hearted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The cheery lads in green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When once the ball was started<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In khaki garb were seen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A regiment of Tories,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A regiment of Grits,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Discarded party worries<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To give the Kaiser fits.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Battalions of free thinkers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">and regiments of Jews<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And some of water drinkers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And some that hit the booze.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A regiment of Chinese,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A regiment of Yanks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A regiment with fine knees<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bare and brawny shanks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A regiment of teachers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who laid aside the birch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And one of sons of preachers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A credit to the Church.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A regiment of Colonels,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who couldn't get a sit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(To judge by their externals<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They're feeling fine and fit);<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A regiment of slackers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A regiment of thieves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And one of bold bushwhackers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All wearing maple leaves.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span><span class="i0">Battalions, too, of Frenchmen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The breed that never yields,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are making splendid trench men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On Belgium's bloody fields.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Battalions from the prairies<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now man the smoking tubes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From London and St. Marys,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A regiment of rubes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus, to defend the nation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They rallied to a man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our fighting population<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So cosmopolitan.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not one from danger blenches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They vie in skill and pluck<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when they reach the trenches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We call them all Canuck.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="FIGHT_OR_PAY" id="FIGHT_OR_PAY"></a>FIGHT OR PAY</h2>
+
+<h4>October, 1915</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The cause of Freedom needs our help,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Old Land's in the fray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It's up to every lion's whelp<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To either fight or pay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bloody Turk and savage Hun<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Still ravish, burn and slay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each loyal son must man a gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or stay at home and pay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our sisters, mothers, sweethearts, wives,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They nurse, and knit, and pray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let men forego their selfish lives,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And either fight or pay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The call is clear to sacrifice<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our life, our purse, our play;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere Honor dies, let us arise<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And either fight or pay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"England expects from every man<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His duty on this day."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas thus Lord Nelson's message ran<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ere he began the fray.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall we our noble heritage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">See crumbling down like clay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This goodly age, a blotted page,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And neither fight nor pay?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span><span class="i0">Nay! While our British blood runs red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Let those refuse who may,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We'll heed what mighty Nelson said<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On old Trafalgar day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From cottage, castle, palace, hall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We'll come without delay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At duty's call, and stake our all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To fight, or pay, or pray.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Rhymes_For_Children" id="Rhymes_For_Children"></a><b>Rhymes For Children</b></h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="HUNTING_THE_WERE-WOLF" id="HUNTING_THE_WERE-WOLF"></a>HUNTING THE WERE-WOLF</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The jungle law is broken;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From forest, field and plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The beasts and birds have spoken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"The traitor must be slain,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The surly bear comes growling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From out his lonesome den;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hears the were-wolf howling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Athirst for blood of men.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The fierce war eagle screeches<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Across the Channel deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His scream the lion reaches<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And rouses him from sleep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The busy beaver hiding<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In far off northern wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mighty bull moose, striding<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In stately solitude.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The humpy, bumpy cattle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The tiger from his lair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go down into the battle<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beside the timid hare.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The elephant and camel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The ostrich and emu,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weird things, both bird and mammal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And old man Kangaroo.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All vow, by fur and feather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Each with one purpose filled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To work and fight together,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Until the were-wolf's killed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meanwhile in war's arena,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Unmoved by tears and groans,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The buzzard and hyena<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Pick clean the victim's bones.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="JOHNNIES_GROUCH" id="JOHNNIES_GROUCH"></a>JOHNNIE'S GROUCH</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Cause brother Ben has gone to fight<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Across the sea so far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I like to sit around at night<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And read about the war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when I think me and my chums<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are fighting Fritz in France,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ma asks if I've done my sums;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A feller gets no chance.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when I'm marching proudly back<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With fifty captured Huns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My dad will say "retire Jack".<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That's how they spike my guns.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My teacher's a conscriptionist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She calls me "Johnnie dear,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But backs it with an iron fist<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And so I volunteer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I got kept in at school one day<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For lessons not half learned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when dad asked, "Why this delay?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I said I'd been interned.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when our test exams came out<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And mine were extra bad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I said, "We needn't fuss about<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A scrap of paper, dad."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When sister's chap comes round at night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And pa seems in a rage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ma only smiles; she knows all right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It's just dad's camoflage.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when I entertain this beau<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While Sis puts on her dress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sometimes I get a dime, you know;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That's strategy, I guess.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My dad is getting rather stout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And hates to mow the lawn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when he gets the mower out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">First thing he knows I'm gone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when I've trouble with my pa<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No matter what it's for,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I make an ally of my ma,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And then I win the war.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_TRENCH_THAT_FRITZ_BUILT" id="THE_TRENCH_THAT_FRITZ_BUILT"></a>THE TRENCH THAT FRITZ BUILT</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This is the trench that Fritz built.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This is the Hun who lay in the trench that<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fritz built.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This is the gun that killed the Hun who lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">in the trench that Fritz built.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This is the farmer's only son, who mans the<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">gun that killed the Hun, who lay in the trench<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">that Fritz built.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This is the farmer, weary and worn, who<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">raised the son, who mans the gun, that killed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">the Hun, who lay in the trench that Fritz<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">built.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This is she, who in youth's bright morn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">was wed to the man, now weary and worn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'tis she to whom the son was born, who in<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">front of the battle, all tattered and torn, still<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">mans the gun that killed the Hun, who lay in<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">the trench that Fritz built.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This is the slacker, all shaven and shorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">who drives a car with a tooting horn, and<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">laughs at the farmer weary and worn, and his<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">wife at work in the early morn, hoeing potatoes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">and beets and corn, because the son, who<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">to them was born, is in front of the battle, all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">tattered and torn, still manning the gun that<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">killed the Hun, who lay in the trench that<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fritz built.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This is the maid who treats with scorn the<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">shifty slacker, all shaven and shorn, and his<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">shining car with the tooting horn, but honors<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">the farmer weary and worn, and his wife who<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">helps him hoe the corn, and milk the cows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">in the early morn, for she loves the son who<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">to them was born, who in front of the battle<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">all tattered and torn, still mans the gun that<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">killed the Hun, who lay in the trench that<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fritz built!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Nursery_Rhymes" id="Nursery_Rhymes"></a>Nursery Rhymes</h2>
+
+<h5>Up-to-Date</h5>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="TEN_LITTLE_SLACKERS" id="TEN_LITTLE_SLACKERS"></a>TEN LITTLE SLACKERS</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ten little slackers standing in a line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One went to U. S., then there were nine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nine little slackers out for a skate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One broke his leg and then there were eight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eight little slackers playing odd and even,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Got in a mix up and then there were seven.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seven little slackers sucking sugar sticks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One got dyspepsia, then there were six.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Six little slackers only half alive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One got married and then there were five.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Five little slackers were such a bore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fool killer got one, then there were four.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Four little slackers out on a spree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Auto turned turtle, and then there were three.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Three little slackers in a canoe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Simpleton rocked the boat, then there were two.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two little slackers, one was a Hun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He got imprisoned, then there was one.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One little slacker, war nearly won,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He got conscripted, then there were none.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One little, two little, three little slackers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Four little, five little, six little slackers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seven little, eight little, nine little slackers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ten little slacker men.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+<h2><a name="JINGLES" id="JINGLES"></a>JINGLES</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Jack Sprat can eat no fat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His wife can eat no lean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because upon their platter now<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No meat is ever seen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Make a cake, make a cake, my good man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Make it of treacle and cornmeal and bran,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tick it and pick it and mark it with B,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And eat it for breakfast and dinner and tea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Little deeds and mortgages,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Little bonds and stocks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Help amid financial storms<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To keep us off the rocks.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span><span class="i0">Little loads of stove wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Little jags of coal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Make our pocket books look sick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And put us in the hole.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Little Jack Horner sat in a corner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Eating his whole wheat pie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He looked pretty glum for he found not a plum,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And he said, I don't like this old pie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Little Tommy Tucker sang for his supper,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What did he sing for? White bread and butter;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he had to take corn-cake instead of white bread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With oleomargarine on it to spread.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Farmer Dingle had a little pig,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not very little and not very big;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It weighed two hundred or a few pounds over<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And brought fifty dollars when sold to a drover.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then Farmer Dingle stood up and lied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Mrs. Dingle sat down and cried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Hogs eat so much valuable feed," said he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"They need," said he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"Good feed," said she,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So there's really no money in pigee wigee wee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One little man went to battle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One little man stayed at home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One little man got white bread and butter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One little man got none,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One little man cried see, see, see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You'll eat brown bread<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till the war is done.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Tom, Tom, the piper's son,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stole a pig and away he run,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"High cost of meat<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I've got you beat,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said Tom, while making his retreat.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Jack, Nick and Jill went after Bill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And fought on land and water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till Nick fell down and lost his crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Bill went tumbling after.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span><span class="i0">There was a crooked man<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who wore a crooked smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And built a crooked railroad<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O'er many a crooked mile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He got some crooked statesmen<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To play his crooked games,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they all got crooked titles<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Before their crooked names.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sing a song of sixpence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Country going dry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Four and twenty booze shops<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Selling no more rye.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the bars were open,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whiskey had its fling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now we ride the water cart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Along with George, our king.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Once dad, in the bar room,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Counted out his money,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weary mother sat at home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Patching clothes for sonny.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now dad's in the garden<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wearing out his clothes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Money in his pocket,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bloom all off his nose.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Miscellaneous" id="Miscellaneous"></a>Miscellaneous</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="BEDLAM" id="BEDLAM"></a>BEDLAM</h2>
+
+<h4>October, 1914</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The world is mad, my masters,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The poet had the facts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To prove this sweeping statement,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In man's punk-headed acts;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For since the day when Adam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Partook of the wrong tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We've toiled, and slipped, and blundered;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"What fools these mortals be".<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Take out your horse or auto,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And drive the country roads,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And see the fields and orchards<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bearing their precious loads.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old Mother Earth produces<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With lavish hand and free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But half is lost or ruined<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By man's stupidity.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ten thousand tons of apples<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will surely go to waste<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While poor folk in the cities<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will hardly get a taste.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We take good wheat and barley<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And manufacture bums,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose wives and little children<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are starving in the slums.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The man that's poor as woodwork,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nearly always broke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can somehow find a nickel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To puff away in smoke;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While those who have the money<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To eat and drink their fills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are sure to over-do it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And run up doctor bills.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If, when the times are peaceful<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I kill one man, by heck!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They'll call it bloody murder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hang me by the neck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In war-time he's a hero,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who sends through air or sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bomb to blow a thousand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into Eternity.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And so, dear gentle reader,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You see, by all the rules,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That earth's whole population<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Except ourselves are fools.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_CERTAINTIES" id="THE_CERTAINTIES"></a>THE CERTAINTIES</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When icy blasts blow fierce and wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cutting the face like steel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And summer's heart is trodden down<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">'Neath winter's iron heel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It's all a part of Nature's plan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So stay and play the game;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Next Spring will bring the violets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And roses just the same.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When Pharaoh's lean ill-favored kine<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Have grazed the pastures brown.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, on a parched and starving world<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The brazen sun glares down;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though Canaan's forests, fields and farms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are scorched, as with a flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There's food in Joseph's granaries<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Egypt just the same.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When Pharaoh makes the task more hard<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For overburdened hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stubble fields refuse the straw<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His tale of bricks demands;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What matter if our little lives<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Go out in fear and shame?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The waters of the mighty Nile<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Flow onward just the same.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When, at the front, to bar the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Red Sea waters stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Egypt's hosts are close behind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A fierce relentless band;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Intent their firstborn to avenge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their Hebrew slaves to claim:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Look up, and see the pyramids,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Firm standing, just the same.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When human ghouls hell's lid uplift<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To plunder, burn and kill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Truth seems driven from her throne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Say to your heart, "Be still!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Don't think that Freedom's day is done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Honor but a name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For right still reigns and planets gleam<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Heaven just the same.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_FRIENDLY_SPIES" id="THE_FRIENDLY_SPIES"></a>THE FRIENDLY SPIES</h2>
+
+<h4>A Tale of Camp Borden</h4>
+<hr />
+<h4>November, 1916</h4>
+
+
+<p>The main camping ground of the Huron Indians was near where Camp Borden
+is now situated.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where soldiers build their camp fires,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At night there gather 'round<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The spirits of the Hurons<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From Happy Hunting ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No sentry hears their footsteps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They need no countersigns;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As silent as the moonlight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They pass within the lines.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fierce shine their dusky faces<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As through the tents they glide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Once more they smell the war paint<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And know a warrior's pride;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The white man's modern weapons<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their ghostly fingers feel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The guns so swift and deadly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The long sharp blades of steel.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They nod to one another,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor knew so wild a joy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since, leagued with the Algonquins,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They fought the Iroquois;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among the sleeping soldiers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They pass the silent night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nudge, and smile, and whisper,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"White brother make big fight."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When shafts of light are breaking<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Across the eastern sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They wrap their mantles 'round them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And breathe a soft "Good-bye",<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then vanish like the shadows<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That lurk among the trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sentry hearing only<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sighing of the breeze.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="JACK_CANUCK_TO_UNCLE_SAM" id="JACK_CANUCK_TO_UNCLE_SAM"></a>JACK CANUCK TO UNCLE SAM</h2>
+
+<h4>April, 1916</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Take down your old gun, Uncle Sammy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All your pockets with cartridges cram;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The war fogs that rise, cold and clammy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Seem to frighten you some, Uncle Sam.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You once were the first to get ready,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The most eager in Liberty's fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your brain, Unc. was clear, calm and steady,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When you battled for justice and right.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Time was when each star in Old Glory<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shone for freedom all round the wide world.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The winds and the waves told the story<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wheresoever its folds were unfurled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now your good rifle is rusty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All your work of long years is undone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old Glory, bedraggled and dusty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is insulted and scorned by the Hun.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There once was a time, Uncle Sammy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the honor of sister or wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'en that of a poor negro mammy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You'd defend, Uncle Sam, with your life.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now, what's the matter I wonder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You see womanhood treated like junk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And think but of guarding your plunder:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Can you tell me the reason, dear Unc.?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It seems that your head isn't level,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With your Wilsons, and Bryans and Fords,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You let things all go to the devil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And protect your poor people with words.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It can't be the killing that vexes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And prevents you from getting your gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You're lynching men now, down in Texas<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For one tenth that the Kaiser has done.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SAMMY" id="SAMMY"></a>SAMMY</h2>
+
+<h4>April, 1918</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Brave Sammy's a fighter, who said he was slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Duffeldorf blighter was running his show?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fellow who hinted that Sammy was slack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With praise, now, unstinted, should take it all back;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Sammy's a wonder, and now going strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">('Twas Somebody's blunder that held him so long)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He's just the right fellow, we're glad that he came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The chap that is yellow has some other name.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This Sammy's a dandy; when once in the race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He makes himself handy in any old place:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can preach a good sermon, or sing a good song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or lick any German who happens along:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A single hand talker, as good as the best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A two fisted fighter, with hair on his chest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A long distance hiker, who never goes lame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He's not any piker whatever the game.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There's no one that's quicker at pulling a gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He'll sure be a sticker when facing the Hun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can camp in a palace, or live in a tent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drink wine from a chalice, or eat meat in Lent;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet tongued to the ladies and kind to the kids,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Condemns things to Hades, when down by the skids;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At home on the river, plantation or farm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sometimes a high liver who does himself harm.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Abstemious, very, when prices are high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He learns to be merry without any pie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An expert at poker, with money to spare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A down and out broker who plays solitaire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An orator forceful, a whale to invent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Sammy's resourceful, a versatile gent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though late in the race, Sam, we wish you good luck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come on, take your place, Sam, with Johnnie Canuck.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRANCE_TO_COLUMBIA" id="FRANCE_TO_COLUMBIA"></a>FRANCE TO COLUMBIA</h2>
+
+<h4>November, 1916</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Columbia, my sister,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Republic great and free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Liberty was threatened<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I looked in vain to thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That hope was vain, my sister,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You lost your greatest chance;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men live on lies in Utah,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Men die for truth in France.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Columbia, my sister,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You saw my blood run red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My sons and daughters murdered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The tears my orphans shed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You raised no voice in protest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To stop the Hun's advance;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men live at ease in Kansas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With hell let loose in France.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Columbia, my sister,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Your children you have seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drowned in the cruel ocean<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By German submarine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But baseball is important,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The theatre and dance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pleasure rules in Texas<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While horror reigns in France.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Columbia, my sister,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In sordid love of gain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your vultures and hyenas<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wax fat upon the slain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The nations, sorrow stricken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Receive your careless glance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wealth in Massachusetts<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Means poverty in France.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Columbia, my sister,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I know your heart is right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though on your head has fallen<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This hellish Hunnish blight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I love you still, my sister,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And warn you, lest perchance<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Huns may rule Wisconsin<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When driven out of France.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="JIMS_SACRIFICE" id="JIMS_SACRIFICE"></a>JIM'S SACRIFICE</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Jim marched away one summer day<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To fight the boastful Hun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In khaki clad, as fine a lad<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As ever carried gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No braver knight e'er went to fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In shining coat of mail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In days of old, for love or gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or for the Holy Grail.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His aim was sure, his heart was pure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like good Sir Galahad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He played the game when hardships came<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His face was always glad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until, by chance, somewhere in France,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He saw a "Hometown Sun,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He read one page, then in a rage<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He strafed it like a Hun.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The girl he loved had faithless proved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And German slacker wed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That cruel stroke Jim's spirit broke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He wished that he were dead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He who had been so straight and clean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And every fellow's chum,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now lived apart with hardened heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And soaked himself with rum.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Mid rats and mice and fleas and lice<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He spent his days and nights;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Waist deep in mud, besmeared with blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He fought a hundred fights;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His faith was lost, the angel host<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of Mons he didn't see;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No Comrade White beheld his plight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With loving sympathy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The devil strip, where bullets zipp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The narrow neutral band<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where man to man they fight and plan<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To win that "No Man's Land";<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here Jim would go to hunt the foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He thought it only fun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that day lost that couldn't boast<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Another slaughtered Hun.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span><span class="i0">His awful deeds so say the creeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Jim's bright young manhood marred;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His health was sound, he got no wound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But sin his spirit scarred.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some lost their health, some lost their wealth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of all war took its toll,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some lost their life in bloody strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Jim only lost his soul.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_ORGY_OF_THOR" id="THE_ORGY_OF_THOR"></a>THE ORGY OF THOR</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The war god calls, whate'er befalls<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His orders must be filled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though work may stop in mine and shop,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And farms may lie untilled.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At his command each human hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Must toil to pay the price<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In coal, or meat, or wool, or wheat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oil, cotton, corn or rice.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From pole to pole he takes control<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of land, and air, and tide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then death and dearth fill all the earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And hell's gate opens wide.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fierce robber bands, o'er desert sands<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No white man ever saw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bring all their spoil, with endless toil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To fill the monster's maw.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O'er ice and snow the huskies go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beneath the northern star,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gather toll, a scanty dole,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To pay the god of war.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From out the States go mighty freights<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of cotton, corn and oil;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From West to East, to feed the beast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The people save and toil.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The West's astir, the binders whirr<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Around the settler's shack;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The threshers hum, lest winter come<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Before the wheat's in sack.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span><span class="i0">The bullocks strain on loaded wain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Piled high with bales of wool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A season's clip from shed to ship;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The cargo must be full.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The drivers swear, the bulls by pair<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Plunge panting through the dust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like things accurst they die of thirst<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The war gods say they must.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where battle fields dread harvests yield<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The war god's revels be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where blood runs red, he counts the dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And shrieks and howls in glee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With fiendish laughs, he fiercely quaffs<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The precious crimson tide;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He'll drink his fill, nor rest until<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His blood lust's satisfied.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="MOTES_AND_BEAMS" id="MOTES_AND_BEAMS"></a>MOTES AND BEAMS</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We condemn, with hot curses, the Hun<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For his piracy, perjury, pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For his nameless atrocities done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For the ten million victims that died.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then we'll lift holy hands to the skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the day of our victory comes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While pale children, with piteous cries,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Starve for bread in the slime of our slums.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We despite the degenerate Yank<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With his blood-spattered idol of gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who, his birthright, for cash in the bank,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And political pottage has sold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then we send our poor boys to the war<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With a prayer that they keep themselves clean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we purchase a shining new car,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Praying harder for cheap gasoline.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We detest the false Bulgars and Greeks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They must learn to be true to their friends;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They have proved themselves traitors and sneaks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Using war for their own selfish ends.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span><span class="i0">But our grafters their pockets may fill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While valiantly waving the flag,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Caring nothing who settles the bill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If they only get off with the swag.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We abhor the unspeakable Turk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For his orgies of murder and shame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His detestable devilish work<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Done in honor of Allah's fair name;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then we pray as the Pharisee prayed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While afar off the publican stood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But forget the Creator has made<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All the children of men of one blood.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="NURSE_CAVELL" id="NURSE_CAVELL"></a>NURSE CAVELL</h2>
+
+<h4>November, 1915</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This world has spots made holy<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By deeds or lives of love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has shrines where high and lowly<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Alike, their hearts may prove;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This age, when faith might falter<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mid shriek of shot and shell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has added one more altar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The grave of Nurse Cavell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She cared for sick and dying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Knew neither friend nor foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She spent her strength in trying<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To heal a neighbor's woe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For deeds by love inspired<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Kaiser's vengeance fell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On form so frail and tired,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Heroic Nurse Cavell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What though the Prussian kultur<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now threatened her with death;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She met the screaming vulture<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In simple, quiet faith,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I am an English woman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I love my country well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But must not hate a foeman,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Said kindly Nurse Cavell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span><span class="i0">She faced the guns with even,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Calm, fearless, English eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then, her foes forgiven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Made willing sacrifice;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus, at the midnight hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Prussian prison cell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Crushed by a tyrant's power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Died Christlike Nurse Cavell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But when no more war legions<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In battles fierce are hurled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When, to remotest regions,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Peace reigns throughout the world;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where'er beyond the waters<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The British peoples dwell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mothers will tell their daughters<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The tale of Nurse Cavell.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="TWAS_EVER_THUS" id="TWAS_EVER_THUS"></a>'TWAS EVER THUS</h2>
+
+<h4>November, 1916</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O preacher, prophet, martyr, sage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose message falls on heedless ears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bethink that unrepentant age<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When Noah preached for six score years;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See Israel to Baal bowed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The persecuting Pharisee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the loaves and fishes crowd<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beside the sea of Galilee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O patriot of humble birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With heart to help a fellow man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To reconstruct the things of earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Upon a nobler, wiser plan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The curse that mars the lowly born<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will dog your footsteps till your death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The proud Judeans' words of scorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"No good thing comes from Nazareth."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O mother, when your son lies dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You hate this cruel world of blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You pay the price, with grief bowed head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The age-old price of motherhood.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas thus Eve mourned o'er Abel's loss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Naomi grieved in tents of Shem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas thus she wept beside the cross<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who bore a son in Bethlehem.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span><span class="i0">O soldier with the shattered breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beside the shell-swept Flanders road,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The One who gives the weary rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Knows all the burden of your load.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The anguished thirst, the bitter pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A Father's face He could not see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hate of man, sin's awful stain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He bore them all on Calvary.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="EGO" id="EGO"></a>EGO</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The ego of the human race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sordid love of self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We see it in life's hurried chase,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The grafter's greed for pelf.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The horror of the battle field,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The killed, the maimed, the blind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The beaten foe, too proud to yield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The ego of mankind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The ego of the human race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The poison in our blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lying tongue, the double face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Justice and Truth withstood.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The heavy task, the scanty pay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The beggar with his bone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rich young man who went away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The king upon his throne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The ego of the human race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The subtle serpent's lie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No toilsome years can e'er efface,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"Ye shall not surely die."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eve still by serpent's word beguiled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The curse on Ham that fell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor outcast Hagar's starving child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cities where Lot might dwell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The ego of the human race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The toil each day brings in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The idlers in the market place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sorrow and the sin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bequeathed from pre-historic sire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Turk and Teuton still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ape's inordinate desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The tiger's lust to kill.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FREEDOM" id="FREEDOM"></a>FREEDOM</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We're fighting now for liberty<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where'er our armies are,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We wouldn't want our king to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A Kaiser, or a Czar.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We want no rabbi with his book,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No priest in sable stole,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For priest and rabbi ne'er can brook<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The freedom of the soul.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We must be free, to work, or play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or loaf, just when we like,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if we get too little pay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Be free to go on strike:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if, perchance, we gain our goal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And wealth to us should come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We must be free to take our toll,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From workman's scanty crumb.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We must be free to hit the booze<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That steals our children's bread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cash that ought to buy them shoes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Pour down our necks instead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We must be free to come and go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No Russ nor Hun are we,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There's nothing grander here below<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Than British liberty.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But when, from nations drowned in tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For crimes by Kaiser done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cry goes forth for volunteers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To come and fight the Hun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We must be free at home to stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While others take their chance<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Of finding little homes of clay"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Flanders or in France.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="TWENTY_YEARS_AFTER" id="TWENTY_YEARS_AFTER"></a>TWENTY YEARS AFTER</h2>
+
+<h4>November, 1917</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where men make bloody sacrifice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And pile the earth with slain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kind Mother Nature ever tries<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To cover up the stain.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span><span class="i0">'Mid charnel of the tiger's den<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">May pure white lilies blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on the graves of warlike men<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The peaceful daisies grow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The grass is all the greener now<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where men most fiercely strove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And maids may hear on Vimy's brow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The cooing of the dove.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where cannon roared by night and day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And men in thousands fell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sunny headed children play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And pick up bits of shell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where once raged war's infernal din,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bullets fell like rain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The peaceful peasants gather in<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A hundred fold of grain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where men plied the deadly steel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And blood ran red like wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We see the holy sisters kneel<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beside the rebuilt shrine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And over on the rising ground<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The fresh young maples stand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To mark the graves of those who found<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Death in a foreign land;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here women of the nameless woes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Still pray when day is done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That God will rest the souls of those<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who strafed the hellish Hun.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="FAITH" id="FAITH"></a>FAITH</h2>
+
+<h4>November, 1917</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The soldier, when the war began,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Presumed the cause was right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But didn't ask the campaign's plan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His duty was to fight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The child, with all things yet to prove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Still thinks the world is fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While trusting in a mother's love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And in a father's care.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span><span class="i0">The patient 'neath the surgeon's knife<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Unconscious is, and still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The only hope to save his life<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is in the doctor's skill.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The farmer sows in faith his seed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And trusts the sun and rain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meanwhile he fights the choking weed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That grows among the grain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The planets in their orbits roll,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The seasons come and go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The angry seas own God's control,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His care the sparrows know.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we, by pride made over bold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Face Providence unawed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And like the patriarch of old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Presume to question God.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ten thousand prayers in discord rise<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From church and cloister dim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When will we cease our feeble cries,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And trust the world to Him?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis His the broken heart to bind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To heal the serpent's bite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The judge is He of all mankind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And shall He not do right?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="EVERYBODY_HELPING" id="EVERYBODY_HELPING"></a>EVERYBODY HELPING</h2>
+
+<h4>March, 1917</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If you want a fine new car,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Do without,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If you like a good cigar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Cut it out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thrift will help to win the war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">There's no doubt.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If you are too old to fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">You can pay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If you think war isn't right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">You can pray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Help to crush the Kaiser's might<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">As you may.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span><span class="i0">If you are a Tory gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Or a Grit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Throw your politics away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Do your bit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">War is now the game to play;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">You are it.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If you have good things to eat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Pack a box,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If you are a maiden neat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Knit some socks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Keep the soldier's tired feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Off the rocks.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Get a piece of land on spec,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Plow and sow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There's a place for every peck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">You can grow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swat the Kaiser in the neck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Issue him a passage check<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Down below.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_WORLDS_OVERDRAFT" id="THE_WORLDS_OVERDRAFT"></a>THE WORLD'S OVERDRAFT</h2>
+
+<h4>May, 1917</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On life's broad fields, whate'er we sow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">'Tis certain we shall reap;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The watching scribes, above, below,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Somewhere a record keep.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The faithless church, the lying creed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Teaching that wrong is right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The childless home, the heartless greed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The jealousy and spite.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The feasting, selfish, idle rich,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The hungry, hardened poor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The drunkard lying in the ditch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The brothel's open door;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whate'er we do, where'er we dwell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whate'er our names or creeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They total up in heaven or hell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sum of all our deeds.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We thought the race was to the swift,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The battle to the strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like mariners with boat adrift,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We heard the sirens' song,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span><span class="i0">We put our trust in armies vast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In battleships and marts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We deemed but hoodoos of the past<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The prayers from human hearts.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So heavy grew the moral debt<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of every class and rank,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No further credit could we get<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At Satan's private bank.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wealth bestowed by sea and land<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We squandered in a day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The devil took our notes of hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And now there's hell to pay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The world will drown in blood and tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And famine stalk abroad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Til men repent their sordid years<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And humbly call on God.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This cruel war the Kaiser made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(The worst since Satan fell,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will end when all the world has paid<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Its overdraft on hell.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="SLACKERS" id="SLACKERS"></a>SLACKERS</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We condemn, as selfish slackers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Those not willing to enlist<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To oppose the Prussian Kultur<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the Kaiser's iron fist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they're not the only slackers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Those who will not go and fight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For every man's a slacker<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who does less now than he might.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There are slackers in the pulpit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the elder's cushioned pew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all through the congregation<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There are slackers not a few.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There are slackers in the workshop,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There are slackers on the farm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And slackers down in Parliament<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose defeat would do no harm.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some munition men are slackers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And some who store our food.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While they dream of higher profits<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And of interest accrued.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span><span class="i0">We condemn the youthful shirker<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And we say his heart's not right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But there's many an arrant slacker<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Not eligible to fight.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So let each and all get busy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If we would the Kaiser thrash.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the man who owns the millions<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To the girl who slings the hash,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the women busy knitting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All the men out hoeing beans,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the war may be decided<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By the work behind the scenes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_LOYAL_BLACKS" id="THE_LOYAL_BLACKS"></a>THE LOYAL BLACKS</h2>
+
+
+<h4>August, 1917</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Three years ago the war began,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Three years ago to-day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Empire's call to every man<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was either fight or pay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some men the country well could spare<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their clear-cut duty shun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But all the Blacks have done their share<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To help defeat the Hun.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My brother Jim, who worked by spells<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(He had a lazy streak)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is busy now inspecting shells<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At forty bones a week.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Jack, of course, is rather young,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He's just nineteen or so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Tom had trouble with his lung<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">About twelve years ago.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My brother Ben would like to fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Kaiser makes him wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if he went 'twould not be right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He has a wife and child.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I cannot lease my farm and store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With prices soaring higher,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If times keep good for two years more<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I think I can retire.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Although we didn't volunteer<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And learn the soldier's art,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span><span class="i0">We hold some good positions here<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bravely do our part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While some the khaki suits have donned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And in the trenches slave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We put into a war loan bond<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Each dollar we can save.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But there are lots of husky chaps<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Could go as well as not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There's Arthur Mee and Joe perhaps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Paul Pierce and Barney Bott,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Peter Jones and Sam Delong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Jack Smith's hired man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Scotty Moss, and Wesley Strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Billy Barlow's Dan.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Robert Green and Walter White,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And others I could name;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When these refuse to go and fight<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It is a burning shame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I think they should be forced to go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Conscription is the plan<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To catch these chaps so very slow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And make them play the man.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_TROUBLES_OF_TINO" id="THE_TROUBLES_OF_TINO"></a>THE TROUBLES OF TINO</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">War pot is still stewing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Not a sign of peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Trouble now is brewing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">'Round the shores of Greece;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tino needs our pity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Threatened by the Huns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seaboard town and city<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Faced by British guns.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he helps the Germans<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lose his job for life;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he favors Britain<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Has to square his wife.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Holds no trumps nor aces,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cannot take a trick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cards are all queen's faces,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tino's feeling sick.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tino never whistles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Neither does he sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bed of thorns and thistles;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who would be a king?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="HAS_THE_WORLD_GONE_MAD" id="HAS_THE_WORLD_GONE_MAD"></a>HAS THE WORLD GONE MAD?</h2>
+
+<h4>December, 1916</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What a lack of reason<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In this earthly throng!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In and out of season<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Everything goes wrong;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over there in Europe<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Kaiser, king and czar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Raise a mighty flare up,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Plunge a world in war.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Neither king nor kaiser<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Down in Mexico,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are the people wiser?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Echo answers, "No!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There, contending factions<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Murder, pillage, burn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Plunder and exactions<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Everywhere you turn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Has the world gone crazy?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are the men all fools?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is our thinking hazy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Spite of all our schools?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_TREES" id="THE_TREES"></a>THE TREES</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The wind that through the forest blows<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">May scatter leaves and blossoms wide.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The parent tree but firmer grows<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When by the tempest torn and tried.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The stately oak withstands the storm<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That rocks its boughs in fiercest strife;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The winds that shake its sturdy form<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But give a deeper, stronger life.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The maple leaves are falling fast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sugar groves look gaunt and grim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But sap will flow when winter's past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And sweetness course through every limb.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mighty eucalyptus tree<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But sheds its bark at winter's call<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its leaves retain their greenery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And yield a curing oil for all.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span><span class="i0">A seedling in the Maori's time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now, toughened by a thousand gales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Straight stands the kauri in its prime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fit mast for proudest ship that sails.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Drooping its weary fronds, the palm<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In sorrow stands on sun-baked plain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till comes, like blessed healing balm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The early and the latter rain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The noble banyan dying lives,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In youth 'twould shield a single man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In age its spreading shelter gives<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shade for a prince's caravan.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No weaklings these, their roots deep down<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Mother Earth retain their hold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To heaven they raise a leafy crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sound-hearted, loyal, earnest-souled.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHO_KNOWS" id="WHO_KNOWS"></a>WHO KNOWS</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><b>The pessimist</b><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our lot is cast in evil days<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We almost lose our faith in God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We cannot comprehend His ways,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor recognize His chast'ning rod.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To stem the Hun's relentless tread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His hymns of hate, his crimes of Cain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We give our daily toll of dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But wonder if 'tis all in vain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><b>The Optimist</b><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Brave men must fight, brave men must fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whene'er a tyrant lifts his head;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Freedom sounds her battle call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We must not grudge our noble dead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'en now the victor's shouts we hear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On blood bought hill, o'er shell-swept plain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The end of tyranny is near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our struggle has not been in vain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><b>The Socialist</b><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If, when our cheering shall have died,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No more for sordid grain we plan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But shed the hoofs and horns of pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And strive to help our fellow man,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span><span class="i0">So each will get a fair return<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For labor done by hand or brain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And none can take what others earn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The war will not have been in vain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2"><b>The Anarchist</b><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If still the selfish creed we preach<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of pleasure, ease and strife for gold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Employer, and employee, each<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Resentful, greedy, uncontrolled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then poor men still will curse the great,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And hellish hordes will rise again<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With hungry, hardened, Hunnish hate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This war will have been fought in vain.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="AFTERWARDS" id="AFTERWARDS"></a>AFTERWARDS</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the war shall have ceased with its sorrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Its hunger, and horror, and hell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the dawn of a brighter to-morrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What tale will historians tell?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will the nations get records of glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of cowardice, courage or crime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the sages record the true story,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To ring down the decades of time?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We believe that some peoples now broken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And crushed by the Turk and the Hun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will arise from their darkness unspoken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And stand in the light of the sun.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it may be that Germans, grown wiser<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And taught at so fearful a cost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will have hanged their contemptible Kaiser<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And regained the fair name they have lost.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We believe that the allies now fighting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And lavishing billions untold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will have found, in the wrong that needs righting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A service far better than gold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That in bearing the load of another,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In heeding the cry of the pained,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That in staying the feet of a brother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fresh strength for themselves will have gained.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span><span class="i0">And some lands that now cravenly study<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The getting of guerdons and gain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May have found their gold blasted and bloody,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And tarnished by tears for the slain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And because they dishonoured their stations<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Were weak when they should have been strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May be treated with scorn by the nations,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A byword and hissing among.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So the scribe will set down in his pages<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The story the centuries tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That, for sin, death is still the true wages,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And broad the road leading to hell.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="GERMAN_SECURITIES_FALL" id="GERMAN_SECURITIES_FALL"></a>GERMAN SECURITIES FALL</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The British guns have spoken<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Bill may lose his crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The German line is broken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And saur-kraut is down.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The gallant French are storming<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Huns with iron hail;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They've given Fritz a warning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And limburger is stale.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Russ is westward pushing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Herding the Huns like sheep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus ends the big four flushing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And liverwurst is cheap.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">King Victor's brave Italians<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are driving back pell-mell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Austrian battalions<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And weiners will not sell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Belgians, too, are holding<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their end up with the rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They hear the Teutons scolding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bologna's past its best.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Roumanians, and others,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who now are standing pat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will call the allies brothers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When lager beer goes flat.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="TROUBLE_IN_THE_TRENCHES" id="TROUBLE_IN_THE_TRENCHES"></a>TROUBLE IN THE TRENCHES</h2>
+<hr />
+
+<h4>The true story of the difficulty on the Russian front.</h4>
+
+<h4>September, 1917</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When Slav and Russ had raised a fuss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And sent their Czar a-kiting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said Givinski to Blatherski,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"We've done enough of fighting."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I've got a cough," wheezed Killmanoff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"From working in the trenches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'd rather fight a doggoned sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Than put up with the stenches.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I want to quit and take a sit<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In some place clean and brighter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let those who like come down the pike<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To strafe the German blighter."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I've got the itch," growled Dirtovitch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"Bog spavin and lumbago."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I'm never dry," swore Goshallski,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"I smell worse than a Dago."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"This cheese is high," grouched Buttinski,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"No hungry rat would eat it."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"This meat is tough," whined Ivanuff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"I think we ought to beat it."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"It makes me mad," stormed Hazembad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"The prevalence of vermin."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"You've said it right," owned Gotabite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"I'm lousy as a German."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Said Takemoff, "Our lives are rough<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In these here blooming ditches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But mine's the worst by half a verst,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Since some guy stole my breeches."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Their pay was back, their belts were slack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Each man his troubles blurted.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With empty guns to face the Huns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Small wonder they deserted.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_WORSHIPPERS" id="THE_WORSHIPPERS"></a>THE WORSHIPPERS</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wo Sing was just a heathen blind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A dull insensate clod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet somehow to his darkened mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There came a thought of God.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He shaped an idol out of clay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And to it bowed his knee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No one had taught him how to pray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Alas, the poor Chinee!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An artist took his brush and paint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And on his canvas board,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He wrought a picture of a saint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And called it Christ the Lord;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With patient hand, and wondrous skill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Retouched that kindly face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But thought it ever lacking still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In majesty and grace.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A preacher in his pulpit stood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(His words the people trust,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His message was that God is good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And knows mankind is dust.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He drew a picture of a Lord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Omniscient, pure and kind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His thoughts, His purposes, His word,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Too high for human mind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Kaiser has conceived a god,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To rule o'er sea and land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With strong, remorseless, iron rod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Hohenzollern hand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A god who honors lies and fraud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And mean hypocrisy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A boastful, bloody, brutal god,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The god of Germany.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And thus we all our idols make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As our conception is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pray our Father, but to take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our helpless hands in His;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To give us each a ray of hope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To each a message bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each king and kaiser, priest and pope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Each humble poor Wo Sing.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="TO_JEAN_BAPTISTE" id="TO_JEAN_BAPTISTE"></a>TO JEAN BAPTISTE</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O Jean Baptiste! do not resist<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The military act, Jean;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You like to fight, the cause is right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(You know this is a fact, Jean.)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When tasks are hard, 'tis not, old pard.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Your way to ever shirk, Jean;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The saw-log jam, mills, woods and dam<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All tell how well you work, Jean.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It isn't fear that keeps you here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You're active, brave and strong, Jean;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in this scrap, by some mishap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We got you going wrong, Jean.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In dear old France, the Huns advance<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With bullet, bomb and gas, Jean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It's hardly square that you're not there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(Hank Bourassa's an ass, Jean.)<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That we may win, you must begin<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To help more in this fight, Jean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The die is cast, forget our past<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Intolerance and spite, Jean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The things you love may worthless prove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If you don't get your gun, Jean;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your woods, and mines, your homes and shrines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">May all go to the Hun, Jean.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our kinsmen brave, across the wave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Kaiser have defied, Jean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">British and French, in bloody trench,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are fighting side by side, Jean.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where duty leads, what matter creeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or what baptismal font, Jean?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So let us sing&mdash;"Long live the king"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And join the bonne entente, Jean.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_LOST_TRIBES" id="THE_LOST_TRIBES"></a>THE LOST TRIBES</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We read about the tribes dispersed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That Israelitish host,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Condemned and exiled, sin-accursed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Among the Gentiles lost,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span><span class="i0">We wonder what strange paths they walk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In what far land they dwell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where now does Reuben feed his flock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Joseph buy and sell?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In search of them we vainly roam<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Through distant, foreign states,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then find a people nearer home<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With all the Hebrew traits.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They seize the heathen nations' land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And hold it by the sword,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And deem themselves a righteous band.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The chosen of the Lord.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They deem themselves a righteous band,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And for religion's sake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They bravely compass sea and land<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">One proselyte to make.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They drive poor Hagar from their homes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The wilderness to search,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While Abraham, forsooth, becomes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A pillar in the church.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They scorn their dreaming brother's right<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To visions he may have,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to the warring Ishmaelite<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They sell him as a slave.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unmoved they hear the cry of pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Old Jacob's wailing note,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"An evil beast my son has slain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There's blood on Joseph's coat."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When wearied on the desert track,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With hunger faint and weak,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Egyptian flesh pots lure them back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The garlic and the leek.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fruitful promised land they view,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But fear to enter in.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wander still, a faithless crew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Wilderness of Sin.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Their enemies before them flee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their foemen's gates they hold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Esau's birthright still we see<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To crafty Jacob sold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They worship Aaron's golden calf,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But scorn his priestly rod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when from Marah's springs they quaff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They murmur against God.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span><span class="i0">Though David's sceptre still remains<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With Judah's royal line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On Leah's sons are bloody stains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Ephriam's drunk with wine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blind Sampson, by Delilah's shears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is made grind Dagon's corn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But only in a thousand years<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is there a Moses born.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="RELIABILITY" id="RELIABILITY"></a>RELIABILITY</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Britannia's word was spoken<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The feeble to defend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That promise was not broken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She kept it to the end.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Britannia's word is good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tried, tested, proved in blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In every land, 'mid snow or sand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She for the truth has stood.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Britannia borrowed millions<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In thrifty days of old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, when she asks for billions,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She always gets the gold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Britannia's note is good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She signs it with her blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each promise made, she fully paid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Let cost be what it would.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Britannia's sons are falling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The proud, the strong, the gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They heard their mother calling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They would not say her, nay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Britannia's sword is good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She draws it when she should,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flag that flies 'neath all the skies<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A thousand years has stood.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_McLEANS" id="THE_McLEANS"></a>THE McLEANS</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The heather's on fire. McLeans from the byre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The hamlet, the city, the wide open plains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lairds and rapscallions fill up the battalions<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With blue blood, with true blood, the loyal McLeans.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span><span class="i0">They hear the drums rattle, they rush to the battle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(Each man in the clan a base coward disdains),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They die in their glory, the trenches are gory<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With red blood, with shed blood of gallant McLeans.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Afar on the heather, where hame folk foregather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The pibroch is wailing a dirge for the slain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The women are weeping, their lane vigils keeping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sair, sair, are the hearts in the clan o' McLean.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But mony will stick it, till Kaiser Bill's lickit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And doontrodden people get back a' their ain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then Maids will stop greeting, for soon they'll be meeting<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The bonnie brave lads o' the clan o' McLean.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="FARMER_JOHN_SPEAKS_HIS_MIND" id="FARMER_JOHN_SPEAKS_HIS_MIND"></a>FARMER JOHN SPEAKS HIS MIND</h2>
+
+<h4>May, 1917</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Those fellows down in parliament<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Have kicked up such a fuss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That now we seem election bent<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To clean up all the muss.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Grits are sharpening their swords<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To give the Tories fits,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While they, with scorching bitter words<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Denounce the faithless Grits.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All out of doors is fresh and green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But no more green than we<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who help to run the Grit machine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or bow the Tory knee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We hear the strident party call<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In words no one believes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Liberals are traitors all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Tories all are thieves.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span><span class="i0">The birds are singing in the trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Old Summer's back at last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lilacs scent the morning breeze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The crops are growing fast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why should we leave these peaceful scenes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And don our vests and coats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hear those chaps who spilled the beans<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Slangwhanging for our votes?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If we give heed to every tale<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Told when the campaign's hot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Tories all should be in jail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Grits should all be shot.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let's raise more chickens, calves and shoats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The politicians shun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let's grow more beans and wheat and oats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And help defeat the Hun.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHEN_THE_GAME_ISNT_FAIR" id="WHEN_THE_GAME_ISNT_FAIR"></a>WHEN THE GAME ISN'T FAIR</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As we struggle up life's hillside<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where the road is hard and long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weak, discouraged, tired, lonely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And everything gone wrong.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When we see some men refusing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their allotted load to bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While their brother's back is breaking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then we know the game's not fair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When we see some men grow wealthy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While their brothers die in France,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We rebel at the injustice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And demand an even chance;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When we see some children hungry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With no decent clothes to wear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And some other stuffed and pampered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then we know the game's not fair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When we have to pay high taxes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On our little wooden shack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though the mortgage isn't settled<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the interest is back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the rich man's stately mansion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Doesn't pay its proper share,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he lies about his income,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then we know the game's not fair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span><span class="i0">When we read in all the papers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How our boys are strafing Fritz,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Throwing bombs into his trenches<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For to blow him all to bits,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When we think of him that started<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This vile war, then we declare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If the Kaiser goes unpunished<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We shall know the game's not fair.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HEINIES_HOLLER" id="HEINIES_HOLLER"></a>HEINIE'S HOLLER</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Britty soon now fife years vill pe done<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since ve march into Belgium von day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But since den some beeg rifers have run<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Troo de pridges, I tink all de vay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den already de tings seemed so blain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven ve shtart oudt to lick de whole vorld<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve vas sure dat us Shermans vould reign<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shoost verefer our flag vas unfurled.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For to see dat some tings can't pe done<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All dose Junker man's heads vas too tick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und, inshtead of a blace in de sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve haf got, vot you call, armyshtick.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vot dot armyshtick baper's aboudt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I can't get troo dis headpiece of mine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But dose fellers dot von wrote it oudt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und us fellers dat lost had to sign.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Shoost so soon vas dat Armyshtick made<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den dose allies dey run de whole show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For already deir plans vas all laid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven ve back into Shermany go.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dere vas fellers from England und France,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und Yankees, Italians und Japs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mit some hoboes dat all get a chance<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From some blaces not marked on de maps.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For six months now dey talk und dey shmoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mit no Shermans at all in de game<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und dey tink up von pully goot shoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den dey tell us to write down our name.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dey vould take all our money und ships,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und dose blace in de sun dat ve got.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we ain't handing oudt no free trips,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und won't sign no beace dreaty like dot.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="WHAT_WE_WON" id="WHAT_WE_WON"></a>WHAT WE WON</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Was it for this, I want to know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We saw our boys to Flanders go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For this that Belgium suffered so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That France withstood the ruthless foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And said "No further shalt thou go,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That Serbia was plunged in woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And women wept along the Po;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That Poles were herded to and fro,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Anzacs died at Gallipo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That Britain let her plans all go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Laid bare her breast, and took the blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And held the seas 'neath sun and snow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Danger above and death below;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That Uncle Sam, though rather slow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To scrap the doctrine of Monroe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Got busy at the final show?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For years of blood and tears, although<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We boast the Kaiser's overthrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The net results seem these, I trow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That profiteers pile up the dough,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gather where they did not sow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That scythes of death fresh harvests mow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Bolshevists fierce whiskers grow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And no Hun yet has eaten crow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Wild Sinn Feiners, fallen low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Plan proud Britannia's overthrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save these the world can little show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But wooden crosses, row on row.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Flanders fields, where poppies blow.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_HOME_COMING" id="THE_HOME_COMING"></a>THE HOME COMING</h2>
+
+<h4>July 1st, 1919</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now that Heinie is licked to a frazzle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Fritzie is clipped in the comb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We're holding a big razzle-dazzle<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To welcome our soldier boys home.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They bore themselves brave in the battle<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They kept themselves clean on parade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They herded the Bosches like cattle<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In many a nerve-racking raid.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span><span class="i0">In order to do the boys justice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We need all the help we can get,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without it the contract will bust us<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And swamp the committee with debt.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So we want all old timers of Wingham,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(Although the good town has gone dry)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fast as railroad or auto can bring 'em,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To come on the first of July.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Perhaps you've grown rich on the prairies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Your farm in town lots you have sold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or, with products of wheat fields and dairies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Have lined all your pockets with gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or it may be your harp strings are rusted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Your measures all halting and lame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perhaps you're discouraged and busted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And tired of playing the game.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If so, come to Wingham this summer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Forget the world's trouble and strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our program will sure be a hummer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We'll give you the time of your life.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We'll make no untimely suggestions,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Concerning the length of your stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor ask you impertinent questions<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">About what you've done while away.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_OPINIONS_OF_FRITZ" id="THE_OPINIONS_OF_FRITZ"></a>The Opinions Of Fritz</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_FINDS_FAULT" id="FRITZ_FINDS_FAULT"></a>FRITZ FINDS FAULT</h2>
+
+<p>("Canadians are using lacrosse sticks to throw hand grenades into German
+trenches."&mdash;News Item.)</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Dere is some tings not right in dis schrap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For dose English and French don't fight fair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven dey pring in de Turco and Jap<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und de Hindu and beeg Russian bear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But already us goot Sherman mans<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ve vas ending dot var britty quick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till dey shtart oop some more dirty blans,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven dose poys vill trow bombs mit a shtick.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ve don't mind some old rifles und guns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor dose airships und Dreadnoughts und tings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve don't care if dey call us de Huns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Und ve laugh at de song dat dey sings:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But dose teufels from Canada come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dey vould blay us von mean shabby trick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ve can't get avay from de bomb<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat dey trow from de end of a shtick.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven ve tink ve are safe for de day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mit goot sausage and saurkraut filled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dose Canadians shtart oop to blay<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mit a game dat ve nefer haf drilled.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven ve see dose tings fly troo de air<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den already ve feel britty sick;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If dey hit us dey don't seem to care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven dey trow dose old bombs mit a shtick.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven ve shoots all our cartridge avay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und de vagons don't pring any more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven our shells get more scarce efry day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mit our shirts und our breechaloons tore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und de shmokes und de limburger done<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(Dot is spreading it on britty tick),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den I tells you it isn't no fun<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven dose poys vill trow bombs mit a shtick."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Tipperary</p></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_HAS_ANOTHER_GROUCH" id="FRITZ_HAS_ANOTHER_GROUCH"></a>FRITZ HAS ANOTHER GROUCH</h2>
+
+<p>(The Germans say that if it hadn't been for the Canadian Rats they would
+have got through to Calais.&mdash;News Item.)</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dere's a ting dat I'll nefer furshtay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven ve shtart oop dat goot poison gas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vy dose Rats don't get oudt of de vay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So us Shermans to Ypres can pass.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven ve shoots all our cartridge avay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat's already deir time to retreat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vot's de use so ve make de beeg fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If dose Rats don't know ven dey get beat?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mit de gas dey gets britty soon killed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den ve send dem de shrapnel some more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und de bombshell mit limburger filled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat vill shmell vorse dan Duffeldorf's shtore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But dose beggars come back mit a rush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und I twice mit deir bay'nets get pricked;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vot's de use so ve make de beeg push,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If dose Rats don't know ven dey get licked?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I soon made some goot running, you pet!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven dey come like vild teufels behind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All my life I vill dream of dem yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For I tought sure mine bapers vos signed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dey came on mit a yump und a yell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till right into our trenches dey dashed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vot's de use so ve trow de beeg shell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If dose Rats don't know ven dey get smashed?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ve haf tried efry blan dat ve knows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But to scare dem no vay haf ve found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(How ve vish dey had shtayed vere de snows<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Blow dose maples und pines all around).<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Day und night dey vill put oop de shcrap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und already ve lose vot ve got;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vot's de use for us setting de trap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If dose Rats don't know ven dey get caught.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_KAISER_CONSULTS_FRITZ" id="THE_KAISER_CONSULTS_FRITZ"></a>THE KAISER CONSULTS FRITZ</h2>
+
+<h4>October, 1915</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven der Kaiser vould shtart some beeg shtunt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All dose shwells den soon come to de front,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und de prince, und de king<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Seem to be de whole ting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mit old Fritz at de heel of de hunt.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But somedimes ven de Kaiser's in doubt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und already can't find his vay oudt;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven dose hard shpots he hits,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den he say&mdash;"Mine dear Fritz,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vot you tinks of dis peesness, old Scoudt?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So it vas mit dose junkers so shlick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dey vould soon end dis var britty quick;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But, shoost after de Marne<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">De crawl unter de barn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For already dey feel mighty sick.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Den der kaiser say&mdash;"Fritzie, old chap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let me know vot you tink of dis schrap;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vill ve lick dose beeg shmoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or go britty soon proke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mit de faderland viped off de map?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Den I say&mdash;"Dat's von very hard case;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can tree jacks beat four kings und some ace?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven ve hafn't de card<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ve must bluff britty hard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or shoost trow down our hand in disgrace.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If like checkers ve blay, don't forget<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dey got more men dan ve haf, you bet!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If ve makes some beeg schore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und not man off no more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve may shtop mit a draw, maype yet."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Den der Kaiser say&mdash;"Tanks, Mr. Strauss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On your back dere don't grow any moss;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I'll shoost blay some more pranks<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On dose silly old Yanks"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den he gif me von nice iron cross.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_IN_THE_HOSPITAL" id="FRITZ_IN_THE_HOSPITAL"></a>FRITZ IN THE HOSPITAL</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven der Kaiser his var bugles blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und say: "Fritz, to de front you must go,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den it vasn't so strange,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I vas glad for de change;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I hope mine Katrina don't know.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Britty soon ve're de whole of de show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und like vater dose goot liquors flow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven, mit vine und champaigne<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ve got drunk in Louvain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dere vas tings mine Katrina don't know.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Soon already, ve fight mit de foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For von year, und it seems britty slow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If I'm killed in de trench<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By dose English und French<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den perhaps mine Katrina von't know.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So dis time, ven dose hand grenades trow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den I tinks soon it's time for to go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If mine back's full mit lead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Not mine breast, nor mine head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dat's von ting mine Katrina don't know.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven dey takes me some blace down pelow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mit tree hundred vite peds in von row;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For dose nice English nurse<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> I forget dat beeg curse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I'm glad mine Katrina don't know.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Gott Strafe England!</p></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_PHILOSOPHIZES" id="FRITZ_PHILOSOPHIZES"></a>FRITZ PHILOSOPHIZES</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Since I'm held in his hospital up,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mine poor back full mit shrapnel und lead<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven I tink of der Kaiser und Krupp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dere's a ting dat von't come troo mine head.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vot already I'm tinking aboudt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To pelieve in mine heart I can't yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But de more dat I knows I find oudt<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vy dose Englishmans frightened don't get.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ve haf guns dat vill shoot forty miles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat de fort und de city desthroys;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve haf Zepps. of de latest new shtyles;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ve haf millions of men und more poys;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve haf hundreds of unterseeboots<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat all ships from de ocean vill drive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und ve kills, und ve burns, and ve shoots<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till dere von't pe no English alive.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But for none of dese tings vill dey shcare<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It's deir nerve (dat's, I tink, vat they call),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven ve tink ve haf licked dem, I shwear<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat dose English shoost laugh und play ball.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ven Shermans get oudt from de trench,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den ve crawl avay somewhere to shmoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mit some schooners de beeg thirst to quench,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For already our hearts vas near proke.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven dose English come on mit a run,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den deir officers lead all de vay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But us Shermans get chained to de gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vile de boss in some safe blace vill shtay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Maype dat's vy ve gets de cold feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und dose English don't scare vort a cent;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a private vil nefer redreat<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From de blace vere his leader first vent.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_WRITES_TO_HIS_FRAU" id="FRITZ_WRITES_TO_HIS_FRAU"></a>FRITZ WRITES TO HIS FRAU</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dear Katrina&mdash;Dis letter I write<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From von hospital, somevere in France,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For I get so proke oop in de fight<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat dis maype vill be mine last chance.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vell, I hold von whole trench py mineself,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mit some poys dat shoost come to de front;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Britty soon dey get laid on de shelf,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den your Fritz have to do be beeg shtunt.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven I shoot all dose English and French,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den already I tinks I vill shmoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den I hunts von safe blace in de trench,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vere de rain mit de ground doesn't soak.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon I vake mit a punch from a gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und I hear von Canadian say:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Come mit me, you darned shleepy old Hun,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den he shteal mine seegars all avay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Den de next ting I know I am here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For already de vorld had turned plack;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dat Canadian certain vos queer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For he carry me in on his back.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From mine preast so mooch hardvare got oudt<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Britty soon I can shtart von shmall shtore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If dere's any old junk mans aboudt<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dey might call at dis hospital door.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now Katrina don't vorry some more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Keep de grubs from de cabbage avay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und pe sure dat you lock oop de door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven alone in de house you must shtay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Put some flowers on leetle Karl's grave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All de time now I'm glad he is dead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vot's de use to grow oop shtrong und prave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Only shoost to get shot troo de head?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i27">Mine truly, Fritz.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="KATRINA_REPLIES_TO_FRITZ" id="KATRINA_REPLIES_TO_FRITZ"></a>KATRINA REPLIES TO FRITZ</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mine dear Fritz: It shoost makes me feel plue<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven I get me dat letter you write,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For already mine fears haf come true<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat you maype get hurt in dis fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vot's de use so you make de beeg splash,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und you hold de whole trench py your self?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dat don't put no more meat in mine hash<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und not any more pread on mine shelf.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Do you tink dat der Kaiser vill care?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If he gifs you von cheap iron cross,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven I lose mine own Fritz I can't shpare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vot vill dat do to make oop mine loss?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Britty soon all de men haf gone oudt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und von't maype come back any more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dere's shoost left yet old Hans, mit de goudt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und de Duffledorf poy at de shtore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You vill now shtay von prisoner yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till already de var is all done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But perhaps dat's more safer, you pet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dan to shtand in de front of de gun.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dere's shoost von ting I tell you; bevare<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of dose nurse mit de shining plack eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If dey got some pink cheeks, und brown hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Your Katrina is double deir size.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Vot you tink, Fritz? Der Kaiser's men come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und de cherries all pick from de trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den dey take all mine apples and plum,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und mine carrots und cabbages seize;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">De potatoes dey got mit de rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und, pecause I vould raise von beeg row,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dey shoost tell me, pull down mit mine vest<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und dey call me von noisy old frau.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i25">Yours yet, Katrina.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_WRITES_AGAIN" id="FRITZ_WRITES_AGAIN"></a>FRITZ WRITES AGAIN</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dear Katrina,&mdash;Dis letter you get<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So already you know how I vas;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vell, dere's von ting dat troubles me yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und I tells you de reason pecause;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dose nurse doctors you tink vas so gay<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Haf de heaves, und blind staggers und gout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und dey trow dose nice cabbage avay<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat vould make me some goot saur-kraut.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Und de limburger cheese dat you sent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat vas making me feel shtrong und vell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Britty soon mit the garbage it vent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For dose nurses dey don't like de shmell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven I ask for pork sausages vonce,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den dey say, (vot I tells you is true,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Don't you know, you fat-headed old dunce,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dose vill gif you de tic-doul-our-eux."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dey von't let me no liverwurst eat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For dey say it ain't fit for de crows.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven I ask for some shmiercase so shweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den dey laugh und dey turn up deir nose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dey shoost feed me some custards und jell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und some broth dat I drink mit a cup,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How dey tink I vill efer get vell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If dey don't keep mine stomach filled up?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven dis var vill get ofer you pet!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den some pickled pig's feet I vill buy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mit bologna and shnapps, maype yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und some coffee to drink ven I'm dry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Britty soon to mine bed I musht go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So no more I can't write you shoost now;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gif mine luf to dose beeples ve know<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und take some for yourself, mine dear frau.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i27">Mine truly, Fritz.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="KATRINA_REPLIES" id="KATRINA_REPLIES"></a>KATRINA REPLIES</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mine dear Fritz,&mdash;Vot to tink I don't know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven dose hospital letters I get,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But mine tears dey vill run britty shlow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till I hear some tings different yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven you're sick like you tries to make oudt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vot you vant mit some shmeircase to eat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und pork sausages, coffee and kraut<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und limburger und pickled pig's feet?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I shoost tink you contented might shtay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till de var is all ofer und done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mit some custards und jells like you say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat is better dan facing de gun.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve get nefer such goot tings like dese<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Here at home in de old Faderland,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For dose English shut up all de seas<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven to shtarve us goot Shermans dey planned.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven de men und de poys vent avay<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For to fight for de goot Faderland,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den de vomans must vork all de day<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mit a piece of plack bread in deir hand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dere's no meat now, nor butter at all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shoost de tings ve can grow in de ground;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und already I'm getting so shmall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat mine dress vill go twice times around.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All dat cash in de bank dat ve haf,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven de Kaiser's men need it, dey said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If dey takes efry cent dat ve save,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Schraps of baper dey gifs us instead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I fool dose chaps vonce, britty soon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For I put all de gold in a sack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mit your vatch, und mine brooches und shpoon<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In de garden I bury dem back.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i24">Yours yet, Katrina.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_LEARNS_ABOUT_CANADA" id="FRITZ_LEARNS_ABOUT_CANADA"></a>FRITZ LEARNS ABOUT CANADA</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Vot's de use for some beeples to blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und to make some beeg fools mit demselves<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven already de tings dey don't know<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vould soon fill all de books on de shelves?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven I'm oudt in de hospital yard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und go unter de tree mit de rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den I shmoke, und I blay some more card<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mit von chap from de Canada Vest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dis here feller, his name is Von Krink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und his fader from Shermany go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He vill tell me some lies I don't tink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From de blace vere dose maple leafs grow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dat beeg farm of his dad's is so vide<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dey musht drive all deir horses mit shteam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und it take dem, to plow down de side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Von whole veek mit a buffalo team.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Und to cross dat beeg country, he say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dey go five or six days on de train;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dey could shtick in von corner avay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">De whole Faderland, England und Spain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dey haf rivers more beeg as de Rhine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und some forests as vide as de sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und dose veat fields, mit homesteads so fine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dey vill gif von for notting to me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Vot's de use den ve fight, I don't know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For von shmall shtrip of land py de sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For if dis feller tells me vot's so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den already beeg fools ve must pe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven dis var vill get ofer, you bet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So dat me und Katrina can go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I vill get me von farm maype yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From de blace vere dose maple leafs grow.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_CANT_FURSHTAY" id="FRITZ_CANT_FURSHTAY"></a>FRITZ CAN'T FURSHTAY</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Seems like someting go wrong mit mine head<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Since de day ven I make de beeg fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und mine heart gets so heafy like lead<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven I dries some more bieces to write.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dot is vy I so seldom don't wrote<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">'Bout some tings dat vill happen to me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since dose shells, vot you call? get mine goat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und I am only von left out of tree.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dot Canadian feller, Von Krink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven I say, "nix furshtay" to his talk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He shoost tells me to take von more tink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or already he'll knock off mine plock.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven I tells him de tings dat he say<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I can't find dem in mine leetle book,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den he varn me to not get too gay<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Britty soon or he'll gif me de hook.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Den he say dat de Kaiser's a chump,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und his vorks dey vos shlipping a cog,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und his crown vill get trowed in de dump,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For he put de whole vorld on de hog;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dot us Shermans vos all off our base<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und already our goose vos cooked prown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Britty soon ourselves home ve can chase,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und den go avay back und sit down.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Vot he somedimes vould mean I don't know<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven he gifs me dis foolishness talk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If I ask him he say, "Shoost go slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mine dear Fritz, ven you're oudt for a valk."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dot is not like de English I shpoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vot I learn in de books I haf read.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den no vunder mine heart is near proke;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und Von Krink says dere's veels in mine head.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_IS_LEARNING" id="FRITZ_IS_LEARNING"></a>FRITZ IS LEARNING</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Vile I vait in his hospital yard<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For dose holes in mine back to fill up,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den mine brain it vould vork pritty hard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like von vagon dat climbs de hill up.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vill dis var soon get done, I don't know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So some more mine Katrina vill shmile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vonce we tought ve vould vin long ago<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But ve're learning some tings, all de vile.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dere seems millions of men mit de gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shoost like ants shwarming oudt of de hill.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From all ofer dis vorld dey haf run<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Us goot Shermans already to kill.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve believed dat dem French vas no goot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shonnie Bull ve vould shtarve in his isle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve vould sink all his ships dat pring foodt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But ve're learning some tings all de vile.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It will not pe so easy, I tink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shonnie Bull to put down on de floor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For venefer his ships ve vill sink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Pritty soon he vas puilding some more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dose beeg zepps, und dose unterseeboots<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat ve make mit de latest new shtyle;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If dey don't always hit vot dey shoots,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ve must learn some more tings all de vile.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven already ve dakes von shmall town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den ve lose him a couple of dimes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shoost so soon von beeg hill ve goes down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dere's anoder von up dat ve climbs.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some goot Shermans vos lifing to-day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In dose drenches for five hundred mile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven dose English und French vill get gay<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den ve show dem some tings, all de vile.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_HEARS_FROM_THE_KAISER" id="FRITZ_HEARS_FROM_THE_KAISER"></a>FRITZ HEARS FROM THE KAISER</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yaw, de Kaiser he write me von day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shoost so soon he find oudt he get shtuck;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">First his letters dey come mit de dray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now de're filling von beeg motor truck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon, already, I dells him vot's drue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat some tings don't look goot in dis fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den der Kaiser he feel britty plue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und like dis vay to me he vill write.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Mine dear Fritz,&mdash;Since Von Tirp has gone oudt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dere's no von around here I can trust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So I vant you to dell me, old scoudt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vill it pe de vorld power, or bust?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven ve licked de Russ, English und French,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den de Dago und Portugee came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seems de deeper ve dig in de trench<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">De more fellers get into de game.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mine beeg armies dey soon melt avay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like von shnow pank goes down mit de sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve keep losing more men efry day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und dose bapers say, "notting vas done,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dose new zeppelin ships vas a fake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shoost de fraus und de kiddies dey get,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und de unterseebootens ve make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like de fish dey get caught mit de net.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Soon our foes take de skin mit de fleece,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So I vant you to hear vot dey say:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If deir talk seems to listen like peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den you send me de vord right avay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yaw, mine Fritz, you must dell me some tings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shoost so soon you get on to deir track,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und de feller mine letter dat prings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vill already your answer dake back."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_ADVISES_THE_KAISER" id="FRITZ_ADVISES_THE_KAISER"></a>FRITZ ADVISES THE KAISER</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mine dear Kaiser,&mdash;I'm telling you straight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat ve nefer can vin dis beeg fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dough de Faderland armies vas great,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dere is udders dat's greater, all right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shoost you make de goot beace britty soon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Right avay, or you notting haf got;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven you sups mit de teufel, de spoon<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vill already, somedimes get too hot.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Shoost cut oudt dat beeg strafe dat you make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven you can't mit dose Englishmans pull,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und you say it vas all a mistake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For you lufs your dear cousin, John Bull.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den you cheat dose fool English some more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like for forty long years ve haf done:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dey'll forget den dose treaties ve tore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und no more vill dey call us de Hun.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You can fix tings quite easy mit France,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shoost you gif up de Alsace-Loraine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den venefer ve see de goot chance<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ve vill march in and take dem again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den dere's Russia and Serbia too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vill vant pay for de men dat ve kill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now I tells you de ting dat you do<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You say Austria vill settle deir bill.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dere's no trouble vill come from de Yanks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Since ve mix dem in Mexico up;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven a feller get bit vonce, no tanks!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He von't fool any more mit de pup;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For de Belgians some tings must be done;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So shoost bromise de monies to pay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till ve get back dose blace in de sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den ve vink, und ve say, "nix furshtay."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_ADMITS_IGNORANCE" id="FRITZ_ADMITS_IGNORANCE"></a>FRITZ ADMITS IGNORANCE</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dis old vorld is von uncertain blace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dere is so many tings ve don't know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven ve shtart oudt to travel de pace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ve can't tell shoost how far ve vill go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve don't know, from de vay a man valks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How mooch money dat feller may get,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und dose chaps mit de very smooth talks<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">May haf schemes in deir heads maype yet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven some leetle birds shtand on a shtump,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ve don't know yet de first von to fly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve can't tell, from de paint on de pump,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shoost how soon de old vell vill run dry;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve don't know vy de grass is so green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor vy all plue roses grow red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How de pod get ouside of de bean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und de cabbages get de shwelled head.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ve don't know, ven de veather is dry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Britty soon if ve get some more rains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vy dere's many a goot-looking guy<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In his head dat don't haf any brains;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vy de plack card vill alvays come thrump,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven a handful of red vons ve hold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor how far can von leedle flea yump<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor vy mud-turtles nefer get old.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In dose car, ven ve go for a ride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ve can't tell ven dere's someting vill bust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und ourselves ve so often haf lied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ve don't know any feller to trust;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve can't tell yet de end of dis schrap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ve may get, ven de fighting is done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some varm country, not marked on de map<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat's more hot dan a blace in de sun.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_ON_THE_ENGLISH" id="FRITZ_ON_THE_ENGLISH"></a>FRITZ ON THE ENGLISH</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven I fights mit dose Englishmans yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dere vas tings vy I nefer can't see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und, dis time I'm certain, you bet!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Either dey must pe crazy or me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dey vill bay von beeg price for a king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But as soon as he put on his crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und vould try to pe doing some ting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dey say,&mdash;"Go avay pack und sit down."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven dey get all dose blace in de sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und de blaces vere grows de beeg trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven already de hard vork is done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den John Bull say,&mdash;"Shoost go as you blease."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If in Dublin a feller rebels,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Britty soon on a rope he vill shwing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But go free, so mine newsbaper tells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If in Ulster he do de same ting.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Johnnie Bull prings his pread und his meat<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From de ends of de vorld far avay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vile de lands vere he ought to grow veat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dem's de blaces de pheasants will shtay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven he say dat he nefer vill fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But vill shtick mit his vork und his blay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dat vas lies he vas telling all right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For he fight like de teufel to-day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Und dose beeples dat nefer had vorked,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All dose soft-handed ladies und shwells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und de fellers dat always had shirked,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Haf got busy now making de shells.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If ve're brisoners, vounded or sick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shoost so soon ve fall into deir hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den dey doctor und feed us oop shlick;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dese are tings dat I can't understand.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="WHEN_WILL_IT_END" id="WHEN_WILL_IT_END"></a>WHEN WILL IT END</h2>
+
+<h4>November, 1916</h4>
+
+<h5>Von Krink tells Fritz when the War will end.</h5>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven you tinks dis beeg var vill get done?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(Dat's de ting you hear efryone say.)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Britty soon vill dey lay down de gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So I home mit Katrina can shtay?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vell, I tells you mine friends, vot I tink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat de Kaiser don't know, nor de Czar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So I shpeak mit dat feller, Von Krink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shoost how soon ve can settle dis var.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ve vill not shtop de fight," said Von Krink<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"Till de Kaiser climbs down from his throne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All dot Wilhelmstrasse bunch, I don't tink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Haf deir backs mitout moss ofergrown.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve vill take back de Heligoland,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und dose Krupp vorks to bieces vill shmash,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve vill shpoil all dose profits so grand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und Miss Bertha can cook her own hash."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Und dose blaces vay out in de sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vere de Kaiser such goot money shpends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">John Bull vill shoost tink it fine fun<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To divide dem around mit his friends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve vill take all de Kaiser's beeg ships,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ve vill make free de Kiel canal<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und de Shermans must pass oudt de chips<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven dey lose de beeg jack-pot next fall.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Den berhaps if dey're getting too gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ve vill bang dem a couple of times;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dat already might be de best way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For to settle dose submarine crimes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven ve get all dose leetle chores done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und some more ve can't tink about yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve vill hang up de sword und de gun.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But not von minute sooner, you bet!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_KAISER_AGAIN_CONSULTS_FRITZ" id="THE_KAISER_AGAIN_CONSULTS_FRITZ"></a>THE KAISER AGAIN CONSULTS FRITZ</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mine dear Fritz,&mdash;Your advice ven I take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und I try dot goot beace talk to shtart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den dose fellers all call it a fake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For dey say it don't come from mine heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vat's de ting to do next, I don't know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mit dose bull-headed English und French,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dey shoost tink dey're de whole of de show<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Since they pounded us oudt of some trench.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dey are licking us now britty fast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like I nefer could tink dey vill do,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mit beeg guns dey now haf us out-classed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und mit airships und teufel tanks too.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ve must all de hard hammering take<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For dose Bulgars und Turks vas no goot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seems like now von beeg blunder ve make<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und de game ve haf not undershtoodt.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ven ve tink ve vill get some more oil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und de oats, und potatoes, and meat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All dose tings de Roumanians shpoil<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shoost so soon as ve make dem redreat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und mine shlack brudder, Tino of Greece,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He gets batted all ofer der ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven he shtrikes he goes oudt on first base,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und makes nefer de run all around.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Britty soon, Fritz, ve someting must do,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or already ve all vill be killed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For dose English haf put on de screw<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und our stomachs are nefer half filled.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vat you tink of dis plan, mine dear Fritz,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In mine head dat already I get,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dat I take back again Von Tirpitz,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und Herr Teufel in partnership yet?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_WARNS_THE_KAISER" id="FRITZ_WARNS_THE_KAISER"></a>FRITZ WARNS THE KAISER</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mine dear Kaiser,&mdash;Dose tings vas a fake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ven you shtart oop dat untersea show<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und already a pardnership make<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mit Von Tirpitz, Von Teufel and Co.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven de try dis same game vonce pefore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Soon ve lose all dose subs dat ve had,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und dis time ve vill lose dem some more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For now even dose Yanks haf got mad.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some advice I vould give to you yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(It vill shoost take a minute or two,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Call dose subs all in oudt of de vet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat's already de best ting to do.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You may tink dat old Fritz is a fool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und haf maype some axes to grind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But dose tings dat he learned oudt of school,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dey vill pring de improvement of mind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Since dat day I vas brisoner took,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und I hafn't got notting to do,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den I read all dose bapers und book,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und write maybe a letter or two,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dere's some tings I already find oudt<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dat de Faderland bapers von't tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How dose English, like leetle Hans Shtout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Haf de pussy cat pulled from de vell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All dose English must half deir own vay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und so soon as deir foes dey vill shmash,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like Napoleon dey ship dem avay<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or like Thebaw or Arabi Pash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So I tells you, mine Kaiser, bevare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or you gets yourself soon in a fix,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saint Helena's old rock is still dere<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For de feller dat loses de tricks.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FRITZ_GOES_FARMING" id="FRITZ_GOES_FARMING"></a>FRITZ GOES FARMING</h2>
+
+<h4>May, 1918</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mine Katrina,&mdash;So long since I write,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You vill tink I am dead maybe yet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If I never come back from dis fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den some udder old feller you get.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vell I tells you de reason, mine frau,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vy already mine letters vill shtop,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ven John Bull soon finds oudt I can plow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den he vant me to put in de crop.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In de vorld if dere's not enough veat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For to make all de beeples some pread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Den de poor vill get notting to eat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und dey all vill go britty soon dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So John Bull some potatoes vill sow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vere dose rabbits und pheasants haf stayed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Und de veat, oats und barley vill grow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vere de tennis und cricket vas blayed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To pe oudt on de land it seems good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vere dose onions and cabbages grow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vere de pigs fall ashleep in de mud<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und de ducks in de vater vill go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I vork so hard now efry day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Und I gets so beeg tired py night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To dose friends dat I luf far avay<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Den I hafn't no courage to write.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I shoost vork, und I shleep, und I eat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So I hafn't much news for to send;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You vould hear of de Sherman redreat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vell I hopes dis beeg var vill soon end.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All mine troubles I hardly can't bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How is tings in de Faderland now?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If ve lose yet, or vin, I don't care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So I only get back to mine frau.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i32">Yours ever.<br /></span>
+<span class="i39">Fritz.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="INDEX_TO_WAR_RHYMES" id="INDEX_TO_WAR_RHYMES"></a>INDEX TO WAR RHYMES</h2>
+
+
+<table summary="INDEX 1">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FOREWORD">Foreword</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">Page</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#MODERN_DIPLOMACY_OR_HOW_THE_WAR_STARTED">Modern Diplomacy</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">5</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_ALLIED_FORCES">The Allied Forces</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">6</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_MODERN_GOOD_SAMARITAN">The Modern Good Samaritan</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">8</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#SATANS_SOLILOQUY">Satan's Soliloquy</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">9</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_CANADIAN_WAY">The Canadian Way</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">10</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_ENGLISH_WOMANS_COMPLAINT">The English Womans Complaint</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">11</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#UNEMPLOYED">Unemployed</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">12</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_HATE_OF_HANS">The Hate of Hans</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">13</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#HANS_BEGINS_TO_WONDER">Hans Begins to Wonder</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">14</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th class="tochead" colspan="2"><a href="#RECRUITING_APPEALS">Recruiting Appeals</a></th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#JACK_CANUCK">Jack Canuck</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">18</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#WHAT_OWEST_THOU">What Owest Thou</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">19</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#A_CALL_TO_THE_COLORS">A Call to the Colors</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">20</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#CHOOSE_YE">Choose Ye</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">21</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_SLACKERS_SON">The Slacker's Son</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">22</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#BLASTED_HOPES">Blasted Hopes</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">23</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#LANGEMARK">Langemark</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">24</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_CANADIAN_ARMY">The Canadian Army</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">25</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FIGHT_OR_PAY">Fight or Pay</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">26</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th class="tochead" colspan="2"><a href="#Rhymes_For_Children">Rhymes For Children</a></th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#HUNTING_THE_WERE-WOLF">Hunting the Were-Wolf</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">30</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#JOHNNIES_GROUCH">Johnnie's Grouch</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">31</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_TRENCH_THAT_FRITZ_BUILT">The Trench That Fritz Built</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">32</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th class="tochead" colspan="2"><a href="#Nursery_Rhymes">Nursery Rhymes</a></th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#TEN_LITTLE_SLACKERS">Ten Little Slackers</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">34</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#JINGLES">Jingles</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">35</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th class="tochead" colspan="2"><a href="#Miscellaneous">Miscellaneous</a></th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#BEDLAM">Bedlam</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">38</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_CERTAINTIES">The Certainties</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">39</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_FRIENDLY_SPIES">The Friendly Spies</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">40</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#JACK_CANUCK_TO_UNCLE_SAM">Jack Canuck to Uncle Sam</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">41</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#SAMMY">Sammy</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">42</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRANCE_TO_COLUMBIA">France To Columbia</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">43</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#JIMS_SACRIFICE">Jim's Sacrifice</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">44</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_ORGY_OF_THOR">The Orgy of Thor</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">45</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#MOTES_AND_BEAMS">Motes and Beams</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">46</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#NURSE_CAVELL">Nurse Cavell</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">47</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#TWAS_EVER_THUS">'Twas Ever Thus</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">48</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#EGO">Ego</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">49</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FREEDOM">Freedom</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">50</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#TWENTY_YEARS_AFTER">Twenty Years After</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">50</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FAITH">Faith</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">51</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#EVERYBODY_HELPING">Everybody Helping</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">52</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_WORLDS_OVERDRAFT">The World's Overdraft</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">53</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#SLACKERS">Slackers</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">54</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_LOYAL_BLACKS">The Loyal Blacks</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">55</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_TROUBLES_OF_TINO">The Troubles of Tino</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">56</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#HAS_THE_WORLD_GONE_MAD">Has the World Gone Mad?</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">57</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_TREES">The Trees</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">57</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#WHO_KNOWS">Who Knows</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">58</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#AFTERWARDS">Afterwards</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">59</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#GERMAN_SECURITIES_FALL">German Securities Fall</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">60</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#TROUBLE_IN_THE_TRENCHES">Trouble in the Trenches</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">61</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_WORSHIPPERS">The Worshippers</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">62</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#TO_JEAN_BAPTISTE">To Jean Baptiste</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">63</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_LOST_TRIBES">The Lost Tribes</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">63</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#RELIABILITY">Reliability</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">65</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_McLEANS">The McLeans</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">65</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FARMER_JOHN_SPEAKS_HIS_MIND">Farmer John Speaks</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">66</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#WHEN_THE_GAME_ISNT_FAIR">When the Game Isn't Fair</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">67</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#HEINIES_HOLLER">Heinie's Holler</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">68</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#WHAT_WE_WON">What We Won</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">69</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_HOME_COMING">The Home Coming</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">69</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+     <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th class="tochead" colspan="2"><a href="#THE_OPINIONS_OF_FRITZ">The Opinions of Fritz</a></th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_FINDS_FAULT">Fritz Finds Fault</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">72</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_HAS_ANOTHER_GROUCH">Fritz Has Another Grouch</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">73</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_KAISER_CONSULTS_FRITZ">The Kaiser Consults Fritz</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">74</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_IN_THE_HOSPITAL">Fritz in the Hospital</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">75</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_PHILOSOPHIZES">Fritz Philosophizes</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">76</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_WRITES_TO_HIS_FRAU">Fritz Writes to His Frau</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">77</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#KATRINA_REPLIES_TO_FRITZ">Katrina's Reply</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">78</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_WRITES_AGAIN">Fritz Writes Again</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">79</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#KATRINA_REPLIES">Katrina Replies</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">80</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_LEARNS_ABOUT_CANADA">Fritz Learns About Canada</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">81</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_CANT_FURSHTAY">Fritz Can't Furshtay</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">82</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_IS_LEARNING">Fritz Is Learning</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">83</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_HEARS_FROM_THE_KAISER">Fritz Hears from the Kaiser</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">84</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_ADVISES_THE_KAISER">Fritz Advises the Kaiser</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">85</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_ADMITS_IGNORANCE">Fritz Admits Ignorance</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">86</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_ON_THE_ENGLISH">Fritz on the English</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">87</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#WHEN_WILL_IT_END">When Will It End</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">88</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#THE_KAISER_AGAIN_CONSULTS_FRITZ">The Kaiser Again Consults Fritz</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">89</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_WARNS_THE_KAISER">Fritz Warns The Kaiser</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">90</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tocname"><a href="#FRITZ_GOES_FARMING">Fritz Goes Farming</a></td>
+    <td class="tocpage">91</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="notes">
+Transcriber's Notes:<br />
+"Wayfarer" is a pseudonym of Abner Cosens.<br />
+Left one instance of Alsace-Lorraine and one of Alsace-Loraine<br />
+Left one instance of out-classed and one of outclassed<br />
+Left one instance of saur-kraut and four of saurkraut<br />
+Page 7: Changed Isproud to Is Proud<br />
+Page 7: Changed belicose to bellicose<br />
+Page 12: Changed Englishamn to Englishman<br />
+Page 21: Changed infull to in full<br />
+Page 22: Changed Kaser to Kaiser<br />
+Page 25: Changed birth to birch<br />
+Page 26: Changed popluation to population<br />
+Page 32: Changed gun tha killed to gun that killed<br />
+Page 32: Changed killed he Hun to killed the Hun<br />
+Page 35: Added title JINGLES to match index<br />
+Page 39: Changed stanza 5 to the correct line ordering<br />
+Page 40: Changed silient to silent<br />
+Page 41: Changed your to you<br />
+Page 48: Changed Briitsh to British<br />
+Page 57: Changed parents to parent<br />
+Page 61: Changed Blathersi to Blatherski<br />
+Page 68: Changed shart to shtart<br />
+Page 73: Changed Vat's the us to Vot's the use<br />
+Page 73: Changed dont' to don't<br />
+Page 78: Changed under to und<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of War Rhymes, by Abner Cosens
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAR RHYMES ***
+
+***** This file should be named 19358-h.htm or 19358-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/3/5/19358/
+
+Produced by David Clarke, Joseph R. Hauser and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
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+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of War Rhymes, by Abner Cosens
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: War Rhymes
+
+Author: Abner Cosens
+
+Release Date: September 22, 2006 [EBook #19358]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAR RHYMES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Clarke, Joseph R. Hauser and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
+
+
+
+
+
+War Rhymes
+
+[Illustration]
+
+By Wayfarer
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+
+The reader of this booklet is not expected to agree with everything in
+it. The rhymes express only the impressions made on the writer at the
+time by the varied incidents and conditions arising out of the great
+war, and some of them did not apply when circumstances changed.
+
+They have been printed as written, however, and, if they serve no other
+purpose, may at least help us to recall some things that too soon have
+nearly passed out of our minds.
+
+The outbreak of hostilities, the invasion of Belgium, the Old Land in
+it and the rush of the British born to enlist, the early indifference of
+the majority of Canadians, the unemployment and distress of the winter
+of 1914-15, the heartlessness of Germany, Canada stirred by the valor of
+her first battalions, recruiting general throughout the country, the
+slackness of the United States, financial and political profiteering in
+all countries, smaller European nations playing for position, Italy
+joining the Allies, the debacle of Russia, the awful casualty lists, the
+return of disabled soldiers, the ceaseless war work of our women, the
+United States at last declaring war on Germany, the final line up and
+defeat of the Hun, and the horror and apparent uselessness of it all;
+some reflection of all these may be found by the reader in these simple
+rhymes.
+
+
+
+
+MODERN DIPLOMACY, OR HOW THE WAR STARTED
+
+August, 1914
+
+
+    Said Austria,--"You murderous Serb,
+    You the peace of all Europe disturb;
+          Get down on your knees,
+          And apologize, please,
+    Or I'll kick you right off my front curb."
+
+    Said Serbia,--"Don't venture too far,
+    Or I'll call in my uncle, the Czar;
+          He won't see me licked,
+          Nor insulted, nor kicked,
+    So you better leave things as they are."
+
+    Said the Kaiser,--"That Serb's a disgrace.
+    We must teach him to stay in his place,
+          If Russia says boo,
+          I'm in the game, too,
+    And right quickly we'll settle the case."
+
+    The Czar said,--"My cousin the Kaiser,
+    Was always a good advertiser;
+          He's determined to fight,
+          And insists he is right,
+    But soon he'll be older and wiser."
+
+    "For forty-four summers," said France,
+    "I have waited and watched for a chance
+          To wrest Alsace-Lorraine
+          From the Germans again,
+    And now is the time to advance."
+
+    Said Belgium,--"When armies immense
+    Pour over my boundary fence,
+          I'll awake from my nap,
+          And put up a scrap
+    They'll remember a hundred years hence."
+
+    Said John Bull,--"This 'ere Kaiser's a slob,
+    And 'is word isn't worth 'arf a bob,
+          (If I lets Belgium suffer,
+          I'm a blank bloomin' duffer)
+    So 'ere goes for a crack at 'is nob."
+
+    Said Italy,--"I think I'll stay out,
+    Till I know what this row is about;
+          It's a far better plan,
+          Just to sell my banan',
+    Till the issue is plain beyond doubt."
+
+    Said our good uncle Samuel, "I swaow
+    I had better keep aout of this raow,
+          For with Mormons, and Niggers,
+          And Greasers, I figgers
+    I have all I kin handle just naow."
+
+
+
+
+THE ALLIED FORCES
+
+November, 1914
+
+
+    When Johnnie Bull pledges his word,
+    To keep it he'll gird on his sword,
+          While allies and sons
+          Will shoulder their guns;
+    The prince, and the peasant, and lord.
+
+    First there's bold Tommy Aitkins himself,
+    For a shilling a day of poor pelf,
+          And for love of his King,
+          And the fun of the thing,
+    He fights till he's laid on the shelf.
+
+    Brave Taffy is ready to go
+    As soon as the war bugles blow;
+          He fights like the diel,
+          When it comes to cold steel,
+    And dies with his face to the foe.
+
+    And Donald from North Inverness,
+    Who fights in a ballet girl's dress;
+          He likes a free limb,
+          No tight skirts for him,
+    Impending his march to success.
+
+    The gun runner, stern, from Belfast,
+    Now stands at the head of the mast;
+          If a tempest should come,
+          Or a mine or a bomb,
+    He will stick to his post to the last.
+
+    And Hogan, that broth of a lad,
+    Home Ruler from Bally-na-fad,
+          Writes--"I'm now in the trench
+          With the English and French,
+    And we're licking the Germans, be dad!"
+
+    The Cockney Canuck from Toronto,
+    Whom Maple leaves hardly stick on to,
+          Made haste to enlist,
+          To fight the mailed fist,
+    When Canadian born didn't want to.
+
+    From where the wide-winged albatross
+    Floats white 'neath the Southern Cross,
+          There came the swift cruisers,
+          And Germans are losers;
+    Australians want no Kaiser boss.
+
+    From sheep run, pine forest and fern,
+    The stalwart New Zealanders turn
+          To the land of their sires,
+          For with ancestral fires
+    Their bosoms in ardor still burn.
+
+    The tall, turbanned, heathen Hindoo
+    Is proud to be in the game too,
+          For the joy of his life,
+          Is to help in the strife
+    Of the sahibs, and see the war through.
+
+    The Frenchman who made wooden shoes,
+    While airing his Socialist views,
+          Deserted his bench
+          For the horrible trench,
+    As soon as he heard the war news.
+
+    The wild, woolly, grinning, Turco,
+    From where the fierce desert winds blow,
+          Will give up his life
+          In the thick of the strife,
+    And go where the good niggers go.
+
+    The versatile Jap's in the game,
+    Because of a treaty he came,
+          For old Johnnie Bull,
+          Will have his hands full,
+    The bellicose Germans to tame.
+
+    The hard riding Cossack and Russ,
+    At the very first sign of a fuss,
+          Cried--"Long live the white Czar,
+          We are off to the war,
+    No more Nihilist nonsense for us."
+
+    The bold Belgian burgher from Brussels,
+    Has fought in a hundred hard tussles,
+          And is still going strong,
+          Nor will it be long,
+    Ere the foe back to Berlin he hustles.
+
+    The hardy cantankerous Serb,
+    Whom even the Turk couldn't curb,
+          In having a go
+          With Emperor Joe,
+    Will the plans of the Kaiser disturb.
+
+    The fierce mountaineers of King Nick
+    Got into the ring good and quick,
+          They are never afraid,
+          For to fight is their trade,
+    While their wives have the living to pick.
+
+
+
+
+THE MODERN GOOD SAMARITAN
+
+December, 1914
+
+
+    The road that leads to Jericho,
+      By thieves is still beset,
+    For Kaiser Bill, the highwayman,
+      Is there already yet.
+
+    Thrown thick o'er half a Continent,
+      His blood-stained victims lie;
+    The priest, in horror, lifts his hands,
+      The Levite passes by.
+
+    The modern Good Samaritan,
+      Kind-hearted Uncle Sam,
+    Exclaims, "This thing gets on my nerves
+      I'll send a cablegram.
+
+    But while the cash is going free,
+      I'll see what I can get,
+    And since these chaps are down and out;
+      I'll steal their trade, you bet."
+
+
+
+
+SATAN'S SOLILOQUY
+
+November, 1914
+
+
+    Hell hath enlarged its borders,
+      While Satan sits in state,
+    And gives his servants orders
+      To open wide the gate.
+    "My most successful agent,"
+      Said he, "is Kaiser Bill;
+    Just watch his daily pageant
+      Of souls come down the hill.
+
+    His friends who sacked the city;
+      His slaves who raped the nuns;
+    His ghouls devoid of pity--
+      The bloody, lustful Huns,
+    The 'scrap of paper' liars,
+      The burners of Louvain
+    Shall feed hell's hottest fires
+      With Judas and with Cain.
+
+    The unfenced city raiders,
+      The crew of submarine
+    That sank the unarmed traders
+      To vent the Kaiser's spleen.
+    The wreckage of the nations,
+      Ten million dwellings lost,
+    Murders and mutilations,
+      The world's great holocaust.
+
+    The workman's scanty wages,
+      The souls of sunken ships;
+    The faith and hope of ages,
+      The prayers from human lips;
+    The livelihood of millions,
+      The commerce and the trade;
+    The untold wasted billions
+      Man's industry had made.
+
+    For these I thank the Kaiser;
+      His efforts please me well;
+    The world becomes no wiser;
+      It's growing time in hell."
+
+
+
+
+THE CANADIAN WAY
+
+January, 1915
+
+
+    When times are good, and labor dear
+      We coax the British workman here,
+    And should he shrink to cross the drink,
+      We tell him he has naught to fear.
+
+    But when the times are hard and straight,
+      His is indeed a sorry fate;
+    We let him die, with starving cry,
+      Like Lazarus, beside our gate.
+
+    When all the battle flags are furled,
+      And wolf and lamb together curled,
+    We loudly sing,--"God Save the King,"
+      And bid defiance to the world.
+
+    When some must go to bear the brunt,
+      And check the German Kaiser's stunt,
+    We still can brag, and wave the flag,
+      But send the British to the front.
+
+    When Princess Pats charge down the pike,
+      And put the Germans on the hike,
+    We shout,--"Hooray for Canaday!
+      The world has never seen our like."
+
+    But when word comes across the waves,
+      The first contingent misbehaves,
+    We cry aloud to all the crowd,
+      "Them British born are fools or knaves."
+
+    When other men with sword and gun,
+      Would stop the fierce destroying Hun,
+    We count the cost as money lost,
+      And still look out for number one.
+
+    When other lands attain their goal,
+      Our name will blacken Heaven's scroll,
+    A thing of scorn, all men to warn;
+      A country that has lost its soul.
+
+
+
+
+THE ENGLISH WOMAN'S COMPLAINT
+
+March, 1915
+
+
+    We want to ask Canadians
+      To treat us not as fools;
+    We cannot learn to play the game
+      Until we learn the rules.
+    We ask them not to try to take
+      The mote from our eye,
+    Nor say, till their own beam's removed,
+      "No English need apply."
+
+    We try to be Canadians,
+      It's 'ard we must confess,
+    To drop our English adjectives
+      And learn to say "I guess,"
+    We've chucked the bread and cheese and beer,
+      We learning to eat pie,
+    So please cut out that nasty slur,
+      "No English need apply."
+
+    We came 'ere for our children's sake,
+      (At 'ome they 'ad no show)
+    Though 'tain't just what we thought it was,
+      This land of frost and snow;
+    But we never shrink at 'ardships,
+      And we've come 'ere to stiy;
+    So hustle down that bloomin' sign,
+      "No English need apply."
+
+    We aren't no cooking experts,
+      And couldn't make a blouse,
+    For, till our 'usbands married us,
+      We never 'ad kept 'ouse;
+    And then we 'ad our families,
+      But that's no reason why,
+    As you should flash your dirty ads,
+      "No English need apply."
+
+    At learning to economize
+      Perhaps we're rather slow,
+    But when you call for volunteers
+      Our sons and 'usbands go;
+    In all of your contingents
+      Canadians are shy,
+    But Colonel Sam 'as never said,
+      "No English need apply."
+
+    When, steeped in military pride,
+      The crazy Kaiser Bill
+    Let loose his hell-directed hordes,
+      To plunder, burn and kill,
+    And British lads took up their guns
+      For Freedom's cause to die,
+    Brave, blood-stained Belgium didn't say
+      "No English need apply."
+
+    Wherever danger blocks the way
+      An Englishman has led,
+    No storm-tossed sea, no foreign shore,
+      But shelters England's dead;
+    And when brave spirits took their flight
+      To realms beyond the sky,
+    We know Saint Peter didn't say
+      "No English need apply."
+
+
+
+
+UNEMPLOYED
+
+April, 1915
+
+
+    "I haven't any way, sir, to earn my daily bread;
+    Give me a job, I pray, sir, my children must be fed."
+    "To keep your kids from harm, sir," the city man replied,
+    "There's no place like the farm, sir, the peaceful country side."
+
+    "I have no work to do, sir," said I to Farmer Sprout;
+    "So I have come to you, sir, to try to help me out."
+    He answered: "Can you plow, sir, or build a load of hay?
+    If you can't milk a cow, sir, you'd better fade away."
+
+    "Have you a job to-day, sir, to give a working man?
+    My stomach's full of hay, sir, my children live on bran."
+    "I really can't delay, sir," the busy man replied,
+    "Please call some other day, sir, my car is just outside."
+
+    "I want to find a place, sir," said I to Groucher Black;
+    "I couldn't go the pace, sir, and now I'm off the track."
+    Old Groucher growled in answer, "This town of blasted hopes
+    Has no place for a man, sir, who does not know the ropes."
+
+    "I'm anxious to enlist, sir, I am a Briton true,
+    To fight the mailed fist, sir, the Kaiser and his crew."
+    Thus answered Dr. Brown,--"Sir, in one main point you lack;
+    I'll have to turn you down, sir, because your teeth don't track."
+
+    "I'd like to find some work, sir," to Smith, M.P., I spoke;
+    "I really am no shirk, sir, although I'm stony broke."
+    Said he, "You poor old lobster, you have a lot to learn,
+    To get a steady job, sir, you really must intern."
+
+
+
+
+THE HATE OF HANS
+
+April, 1915
+
+
+    I hate dot teufel, Johnnie Bull,
+      (Der Kaiser says I must)
+    Mit rage mine heart is filled so full
+      Sometime I tink I'll bust.
+
+    Vot pisness he mit horse and gun,
+      Dot channel shtream to cross?
+    Vot matter for de tings ve done?
+      Der Kaiser is de boss.
+
+    Dose English, yaw, I tells you true!
+      Dey spoil der Kaiser's plans,
+    Shoost cause ve march de Belgium through
+      Dey kill us Sherman mans.
+
+    Mine brudder's dead, already, soon,
+      Mine sister is von spy,
+    Mine cousin rides de big balloon,
+      Dot floats up in de sky.
+
+    My poys--dot story I can't wrote,
+      I lose them, von--two--tree,
+    Ven English teufels sink dose boat,
+      Vot sail der untersee.
+
+    Mineself, I learn de English talk
+      Von time in Milwaukee,
+    I hang around de Antwerp dock,
+      Und hear vot I can see.
+
+    Dey tink dey'll shtarve us Shermans oudt,
+      Not yet, already, blease,
+    Ve still haf lots of saur-kraut,
+      Und goot limburger cheese.
+
+    Mit blenty peers unt blenty shmokes,
+      Und rye bread mixed mit sand,
+    Dis is enough for Sherman folks
+      Dat luf de faderland.
+
+    Ve'll tear dot English heart oudt yet
+      Mit eagle's beak and claws;
+    Shoost now ve can't to London get,
+      I don't know vy pecause.
+
+    Ve should haf been dere long ago,
+      Mit dose machine dot flies,
+    But tings seem gooing britty slow,
+      Berhaps der Kaiser lies.
+
+
+
+
+HANS BEGINS TO WONDER
+
+April, 1915
+
+
+    I vonder if dot's nefer so,
+      Shaymeezle Russia take.
+    You can't pelieve von half you know,
+      Such lies dose papers make.
+
+    I vonder if dose tales are true,
+      Ve lose most all our ships,
+    Our colonies and commerce too;
+      I hear tings mit my lips.
+
+    I vonder if dose Dardanelles,
+      Can shtop der allied fleet,
+    Somedimes to me dere's someting tells,
+      Maype dose Turks get peat.
+
+    I vonder, too, if Italy
+      Vill give to us der bump,
+    Shoost now she's vaiting yet to see
+      Vichway der cat vill yump.
+
+    I vonder can our army shtop
+      Dose Russian teufels' raid,
+    Or vill dey gain de mountain top
+      Or fail to make de grade.
+
+    I vonder if dot Balkan bunch,
+      Und Greece und Holland too,
+    Should give us britty soon de punch,
+      Vot vill der Kaiser do.
+
+    I vonder vere der Kaiser shtays
+      Mit all dose poys of his,
+    You pet, dey keep a goot long vays
+      From vere de bullets whiz.
+
+    I vonder if dot kultur's goot,
+      Sometimes it is, no doubt,
+    But ven it comes to daily foodt
+      I luf der saur-kraut.
+
+    I vonder if ve all get stung,
+      Like vot de Yankees say;
+    Der Kaiser maype yet get hung,
+      If ve don't vin de day.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Mine gracious! vot is dat I say?
+      No von, I hope, don't hear;
+    Dose spies vould sell mine life away
+      For von goot drink of peer.
+
+
+
+
+=RECRUITING APPEALS=
+
+
+
+
+JACK CANUCK
+
+October, 1914
+
+
+ "Only forty per cent of the volunteers at Valcartier are Canadian
+ born." "A large number of men are being kept at home by their wives
+ and mothers."
+                --Recent News Items.
+
+    Our Jack Canuck is active,
+      He plays a pretty goal,
+    But make swift runs to cover
+      When drums begin to roll.
+
+    And Jack Canuck's unselfish,
+      He lets the honors go
+    All to his British brother,
+      When war time bugles blow.
+
+    And Jack Canuck is modest;
+      That's why he chooses rears,
+    And sees the front seats taken
+      By British volunteers.
+
+    Yes, Jack Canuck's a hero
+      Whose glory never fades;
+    He'll lick his weight in wild cats
+      --The day his lodge parades.
+
+    And Jack Canuck's free handed
+      He sends, (Jack's awful wise),
+    His dumpling dust in ship loads;
+      (It pays to advertise).
+
+    For Jack Canuck is thrifty,
+      He wants, when peace is made,
+    To feed the worn out nations,
+      And capture all the trade.
+
+    And Miss Canuck and Mrs.,
+      They value so the lives
+    Of husband, son and sweetheart,
+      These daughters, maids and wives.
+
+    They'll let the Belgian mother,
+      The French and English maid
+    Give husband, lover, brother,
+      To stop the Kaiser's raid.
+
+    They'll see sweet Highland Mary
+      Walk life's long path alone,
+    And hear dear Irish Nora
+      Wail for the loved ones gone.
+
+    They'll send a feather pillow
+      Or knit a pair of socks,
+    And think they've done their duty
+      By them that take the knocks.
+
+    Oh that our hearts were bigger,
+      And not so worldly wise;
+    'When duty calls, or danger;'
+      Ready to sacrifice.
+
+
+
+
+WHAT OWEST THOU
+
+February, 1915
+
+
+    In blood bought Belgian trenches,
+      On stormy Northern Sea,
+    Brave hearts of oak are watching,
+      Protecting you and me.
+
+    The British wife and mother,
+      The maid with sweetheart dear,
+    Lest those they love should falter
+      Hold back the scalding tear.
+
+    "Your King and Country need you,"
+      They say with courage high.
+    "Your fathers, too, were soldiers;
+      And not afraid to die."
+
+    Like fearless free born Britons,
+      Not Kaiser driven slaves,
+    Go heroes from the homeland
+      To unmarked foreign graves.
+
+    Shall we, with path made easy,
+      While others fight and fall,
+    In freedom's hour of danger
+      Neglect the Empire's call?
+
+    Shall we hoard up our dollars?
+      Shall farmers hold their wheat,
+    While children suffer hunger,
+      And workmen walk the street?
+
+    That land is doomed already
+      To black, unending night,
+    Whose old men worship money;
+      Whose young men will not fight.
+
+    O, for some John the Baptist!
+      Some prophet Malachi,
+    To lash our selfish conscience,
+      And teach us purpose high.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Thank Heaven there's a remnant,
+      A few not quite enslaved,
+    For ten just men in Sodom,
+      The city would have saved.
+
+
+
+
+A CALL TO THE COLORS
+
+November, 1915
+
+
+    Ye strong young men of Huron,
+      Ye sons of Britons true,
+    Your fathers fought for freedom,
+      And now it's up to you;
+    Your brother's blood is calling,
+      For you they fought and died,
+    Brave boys with souls unconquered,
+      By Huns are crucified.
+
+    Ten million Hunnish outlaws,
+      The Kaiser's tools and slaves,
+    Have strewn the sea with corpses,
+      And scarred the earth with graves;
+    They know no god but mammon;
+      No law but sword and flame,
+    They crush the weaker peoples,
+      With deeds we dare not name.
+
+    See Belgium rent and bleeding,
+      The Kaiser's hellish work,
+    Armenia vainly pleading
+      For mercy from the Turk.
+    The Poles and Serbs are dying
+      The victims of the Huns,
+    With anguished voices crying,
+      "O send us men and guns!"
+
+    Think of the Lusitania,
+      Of martyred Nurse Cavell,
+    Then say, "Can these be human
+      Who act like fiends of hell."
+    The Empire's in the conflict,
+      And bound to see it through;
+    Each man the old flag shelters,
+      Must share the burden too.
+
+    Then rise, ye sons of Huron,
+      All hell has broken loose,
+    The Kaiser's strafe is on us,
+      With him we make no truce.
+    Come, rally to the colors
+      Till victory is won,
+    Your King and country need you,
+      And duty must be done.
+
+
+
+
+CHOOSE YE
+
+
+    In times like these, each heart decrees
+      A law unto itself;
+    What shall it be for you and me,
+      Self sacrifice or pelf?
+    Which shall we choose, to win or lose?
+      Our all is in the game:
+    What shall we give that Truth may live?
+      How much in Freedom's name?
+
+    A hero's heart, an honored name,
+    Or coward's part, and shirker's shame?
+    The awful strife, wounds and disease,
+    Or sordid life of selfish ease?
+    An open purse, our strength in full,
+    Or painted horse and party pull?
+    The trenches' mud, and trusted word,
+    Or tainted blood, and rusted sword?
+    Soul unafraid, the prayer of faith,
+    Or heart dismayed at thought of death?
+    The noble deed, the unmarked grave,
+    Or craven greed our lives to save?
+
+    Where shall we stand that this fair land
+      No Kaiser's strafe shall know?
+    Shall never feel the Prussian heel,
+      Nor German kultur show?
+    This we will do, if we are true;
+      Honor the Empire's call,
+    Each bear his part with loyal heart,
+      Lest Britain's flag may fall.
+
+
+
+
+THE SLACKER'S SON
+
+
+    "The teacher says at school, dad, that twenty years ago
+    The Kaiser tried to rule, dad, and plunged the world in woe.
+    When Britain needed men, dad, to help to fight the Huns,
+    Boys dropped the plow and pen, dad, to go and man the guns.
+
+    Each man he did his share, dad, the loyal, strong and true;
+    I wish I had been there, dad, to fight along with you.
+    I'm glad you met no harm, dad, and wear no wooden peg;
+    For Bill's dad lost an arm, dad, and Jim's dad lost a leg.
+
+    The Kaiser was so strong, dad, that Britain almost lost,
+    The war was hard and long, dad, and none could count the cost.
+    Our men were firm and brave, dad, and freely shed their blood,
+    And many found a grave, dad, beneath the Flanders mud.
+
+    You never say a word, dad, about this awful fight;
+    Where is your trusty sword, dad? let's get it out tonight.
+    The other fellows brag, dad, of what their dads have done,
+    And Jim's dad has a flag, dad, he captured from a Hun.
+
+    And Mr. Sandy Ross, dad, who works down at the mill,
+    Has a Victoria Cross, dad, for fighting Kaiser Bill;
+    And little Tommy Dagg, dad, the youngest of your clerks,
+    Says his dad was at Bagdad, and shot a hundred Turks.
+
+    When we go for a walk, dad, or take our flying car,
+    You never want to talk, dad, about the mighty war;
+    Please talk to me tonight, dad, before I go to bed,
+    Of when you went to fight, dad."
+
+    But dad hung down his head.
+
+
+
+
+BLASTED HOPES
+
+
+    We hoped to end our troubled days
+      Far from the maddening strife,
+    Erstwhile to chortle roundelays
+      Of peaceful country life;
+    But now the phone rings night and morn,
+      The trolleys crash and bang;
+    We hear the fearsome auto horn
+      Where once the thrushes sang.
+
+    We hoped the children that we raised,
+      Those stalwart girls and boys;
+    Would follow in the trail we blazed
+      That selfish ease destroys;
+    But now, when men are needed so
+      To fight the mailed fist,
+    Our girls won't let their husbands go,
+      Nor will our sons enlist.
+
+    We hoped the pirates all were dead,
+      Those horrid buccaneers,
+    Who dyed the ocean's waves with red,
+      In wicked bygone years:
+    But now we mourn, as happy days,
+      That sanguinary past,
+    Since Kaiser Bill a hundred ways,
+      Has Captain Kidd outclassed.
+
+    We hoped that kings had wiser grown
+      Since Charles I. lost his head,
+    And Bonaparte was overthrown,
+      For painting Europe red;
+    But now we have the greatest kill
+      Since cave men fought with stones.
+    Behold the Kaiser's butcher bill!
+      Ten million dead men's bones.
+
+
+
+
+LANGEMARK
+
+May, 1915
+
+
+    The maple leaf is stained with red,
+      Deeper than autumn's dye;
+    On foreign fields our noble dead
+      Their valor testify.
+
+    Cut off, out-numbered, ten to one,
+      By wolfish German pack
+    Our men like heroes fought and won,
+      They kept the Teutons back.
+
+    They held their post, they saved the day,
+      Those young lions from the West;
+    What higher tribute can we pay,
+      "They fought like Britain's best."
+
+    When reinforcements came at last,
+      Then woe betide the Huns,
+    From man to man the word was passed
+      "We must retake the guns."
+
+    Mid rifle ball and poison bomb,
+      Shrapnel and shrieking shell,
+    And all the hell of Kaiserdom,
+      They charged, while hundreds fell.
+
+    With fearless eye and ringing cheer
+      They made that wild advance,
+    For life was cheap and glory dear,
+      Those bloody days in France.
+
+    O, life is short to him who gives
+      Long years for selfish pay;
+    In righteous cause, the soldier lives
+      A lifetime in a day.
+
+
+
+
+THE CANADIAN ARMY
+
+
+    The news, "the Old Land's in it,"
+      Stirred us one August morn,
+    Then waited not a minute
+      The fearless British born.
+    They were the first to offer
+      To die for England's name
+    Scorning the shirking scoffer,
+      Who would not play the game.
+
+    But when the German Kaiser
+      Of victories could brag,
+    Canadians got wiser
+      And rallied round the flag.
+    The Orangemen, stout-hearted,
+      The cheery lads in green,
+    When once the ball was started
+      In khaki garb were seen.
+
+    A regiment of Tories,
+      A regiment of Grits,
+    Discarded party worries
+      To give the Kaiser fits.
+    Battalions of free thinkers
+      and regiments of Jews
+    And some of water drinkers,
+      And some that hit the booze.
+
+    A regiment of Chinese,
+      A regiment of Yanks,
+    A regiment with fine knees
+      And bare and brawny shanks,
+    A regiment of teachers
+      Who laid aside the birch,
+    And one of sons of preachers,
+      A credit to the Church.
+
+    A regiment of Colonels,
+      Who couldn't get a sit,
+    (To judge by their externals
+      They're feeling fine and fit);
+    A regiment of slackers,
+      A regiment of thieves,
+    And one of bold bushwhackers,
+      All wearing maple leaves.
+
+    Battalions, too, of Frenchmen,
+      The breed that never yields,
+    Are making splendid trench men,
+      On Belgium's bloody fields.
+    Battalions from the prairies
+      Now man the smoking tubes;
+    From London and St. Marys,
+      A regiment of rubes.
+
+    Thus, to defend the nation,
+      They rallied to a man,
+    Our fighting population
+      So cosmopolitan.
+    Not one from danger blenches,
+      They vie in skill and pluck
+    And when they reach the trenches,
+      We call them all Canuck.
+
+
+
+
+FIGHT OR PAY
+
+October, 1915
+
+
+    The cause of Freedom needs our help,
+      The Old Land's in the fray,
+    It's up to every lion's whelp
+      To either fight or pay.
+    The bloody Turk and savage Hun
+      Still ravish, burn and slay,
+    Each loyal son must man a gun,
+      Or stay at home and pay.
+
+    Our sisters, mothers, sweethearts, wives,
+      They nurse, and knit, and pray,
+    Let men forego their selfish lives,
+      And either fight or pay.
+    The call is clear to sacrifice
+      Our life, our purse, our play;
+    Ere Honor dies, let us arise
+      And either fight or pay.
+
+    "England expects from every man
+      His duty on this day."
+    'Twas thus Lord Nelson's message ran
+      Ere he began the fray.
+    Shall we our noble heritage,
+      See crumbling down like clay,
+    This goodly age, a blotted page,
+      And neither fight nor pay?
+
+    Nay! While our British blood runs red,
+      Let those refuse who may,
+    We'll heed what mighty Nelson said
+      On old Trafalgar day,
+    From cottage, castle, palace, hall,
+      We'll come without delay,
+    At duty's call, and stake our all,
+      To fight, or pay, or pray.
+
+
+
+
+=Rhymes For Children=
+
+
+
+
+HUNTING THE WERE-WOLF
+
+
+    The jungle law is broken;
+      From forest, field and plain,
+      The beasts and birds have spoken,
+      "The traitor must be slain,"
+    The surly bear comes growling,
+      From out his lonesome den;
+    He hears the were-wolf howling,
+      Athirst for blood of men.
+
+    The fierce war eagle screeches
+      Across the Channel deep,
+    His scream the lion reaches
+      And rouses him from sleep;
+    The busy beaver hiding
+      In far off northern wood,
+    The mighty bull moose, striding
+      In stately solitude.
+
+    The humpy, bumpy cattle,
+      The tiger from his lair,
+    Go down into the battle
+      Beside the timid hare.
+    The elephant and camel,
+      The ostrich and emu,
+    Weird things, both bird and mammal,
+      And old man Kangaroo.
+
+    All vow, by fur and feather,
+      Each with one purpose filled,
+    To work and fight together,
+      Until the were-wolf's killed.
+    Meanwhile in war's arena,
+      Unmoved by tears and groans,
+    The buzzard and hyena
+      Pick clean the victim's bones.
+
+
+
+
+JOHNNIE'S GROUCH
+
+
+    'Cause brother Ben has gone to fight
+      Across the sea so far,
+    I like to sit around at night
+      And read about the war,
+    But when I think me and my chums
+      Are fighting Fritz in France,
+    My ma asks if I've done my sums;
+      A feller gets no chance.
+
+    And when I'm marching proudly back
+      With fifty captured Huns,
+    My dad will say "retire Jack".
+      That's how they spike my guns.
+    My teacher's a conscriptionist,
+      She calls me "Johnnie dear,"
+    But backs it with an iron fist
+      And so I volunteer.
+
+    I got kept in at school one day
+      For lessons not half learned,
+    And when dad asked, "Why this delay?"
+      I said I'd been interned.
+    And when our test exams came out
+      And mine were extra bad,
+    I said, "We needn't fuss about
+      A scrap of paper, dad."
+
+    When sister's chap comes round at night,
+      And pa seems in a rage,
+    Ma only smiles; she knows all right,
+      It's just dad's camoflage.
+    And when I entertain this beau
+      While Sis puts on her dress,
+    Sometimes I get a dime, you know;
+      That's strategy, I guess.
+
+    My dad is getting rather stout,
+      And hates to mow the lawn;
+    But when he gets the mower out,
+      First thing he knows I'm gone;
+    But when I've trouble with my pa
+      No matter what it's for,
+    I make an ally of my ma,
+      And then I win the war.
+
+
+
+
+THE TRENCH THAT FRITZ BUILT
+
+
+    This is the trench that Fritz built.
+
+    This is the Hun who lay in the trench that Fritz built.
+
+    This is the gun that killed the Hun who lay in the trench that
+    Fritz built.
+
+    This is the farmer's only son, who mans the gun that killed the
+    Hun, who lay in the trench that Fritz built.
+
+    This is the farmer, weary and worn, who raised the son, who mans
+    the gun, that killed the Hun, who lay in the trench that Fritz
+    built.
+
+    This is she, who in youth's bright morn, was wed to the man, now
+    weary and worn, 'tis she to whom the son was born, who in front of
+    the battle, all tattered and torn, still mans the gun that killed
+    the Hun, who lay in the trench that Fritz built.
+
+    This is the slacker, all shaven and shorn, who drives a car with
+    a tooting horn, and laughs at the farmer weary and worn, and his
+    wife at work in the early morn, hoeing potatoes and beets and corn,
+    because the son, who to them was born, is in front of the battle,
+    all tattered and torn, still manning the gun that killed the Hun,
+    who lay in the trench that Fritz built.
+
+    This is the maid who treats with scorn the shifty slacker, all
+    shaven and shorn, and his shining car with the tooting horn,
+    but honors the farmer weary and worn, and his wife who helps him
+    hoe the corn, and milk the cows in the early morn, for she loves
+    the son who to them was born, who in front of the battle all
+    tattered and torn, still mans the gun that killed the Hun, who
+    lay in the trench that Fritz built!
+
+
+
+
+=Nursery Rhymes=
+
+=Up-to-Date=
+
+
+
+
+TEN LITTLE SLACKERS
+
+
+    Ten little slackers standing in a line,
+    One went to U. S., then there were nine.
+    Nine little slackers out for a skate,
+    One broke his leg and then there were eight.
+    Eight little slackers playing odd and even,
+    Got in a mix up and then there were seven.
+    Seven little slackers sucking sugar sticks,
+    One got dyspepsia, then there were six.
+    Six little slackers only half alive,
+    One got married and then there were five.
+    Five little slackers were such a bore
+    The fool killer got one, then there were four.
+    Four little slackers out on a spree,
+    Auto turned turtle, and then there were three.
+    Three little slackers in a canoe,
+    Simpleton rocked the boat, then there were two.
+    Two little slackers, one was a Hun,
+    He got imprisoned, then there was one.
+    One little slacker, war nearly won,
+    He got conscripted, then there were none.
+    One little, two little, three little slackers,
+    Four little, five little, six little slackers,
+    Seven little, eight little, nine little slackers,
+    Ten little slacker men.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Jack Sprat can eat no fat,
+      His wife can eat no lean,
+    Because upon their platter now
+      No meat is ever seen.
+
+    Make a cake, make a cake, my good man,
+      Make it of treacle and cornmeal and bran,
+    Tick it and pick it and mark it with B,
+      And eat it for breakfast and dinner and tea.
+
+    Little deeds and mortgages,
+      Little bonds and stocks,
+    Help amid financial storms
+      To keep us off the rocks.
+
+    Little loads of stove wood,
+      Little jags of coal,
+    Make our pocket books look sick,
+      And put us in the hole.
+
+    Little Jack Horner sat in a corner,
+      Eating his whole wheat pie,
+    He looked pretty glum for he found not a plum,
+      And he said, I don't like this old pie.
+
+    Little Tommy Tucker sang for his supper,
+    What did he sing for? White bread and butter;
+    But he had to take corn-cake instead of white bread,
+    With oleomargarine on it to spread.
+
+    Farmer Dingle had a little pig,
+    Not very little and not very big;
+    It weighed two hundred or a few pounds over
+    And brought fifty dollars when sold to a drover.
+      Then Farmer Dingle stood up and lied,
+      And Mrs. Dingle sat down and cried,
+    "Hogs eat so much valuable feed," said he,
+      "They need," said he,
+      "Good feed," said she,
+    So there's really no money in pigee wigee wee.
+
+    One little man went to battle,
+    One little man stayed at home,
+    One little man got white bread and butter,
+    One little man got none,
+    One little man cried see, see, see,
+      You'll eat brown bread
+      Till the war is done.
+
+    Tom, Tom, the piper's son,
+    Stole a pig and away he run,
+      "High cost of meat
+      I've got you beat,"
+    Said Tom, while making his retreat.
+
+    Jack, Nick and Jill went after Bill,
+      And fought on land and water,
+    Till Nick fell down and lost his crown,
+      And Bill went tumbling after.
+
+    There was a crooked man
+      Who wore a crooked smile,
+    And built a crooked railroad
+      O'er many a crooked mile,
+    He got some crooked statesmen
+      To play his crooked games,
+    And they all got crooked titles
+      Before their crooked names.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Sing a song of sixpence,
+      Country going dry,
+    Four and twenty booze shops
+      Selling no more rye.
+
+    When the bars were open,
+      Whiskey had its fling,
+    Now we ride the water cart,
+      Along with George, our king.
+
+    Once dad, in the bar room,
+      Counted out his money,
+    Weary mother sat at home,
+      Patching clothes for sonny.
+
+    Now dad's in the garden
+      Wearing out his clothes,
+    Money in his pocket,
+      Bloom all off his nose.
+
+
+
+
+=Miscellaneous=
+
+
+
+
+BEDLAM
+
+October, 1914
+
+
+    "The world is mad, my masters,"
+    The poet had the facts
+    To prove this sweeping statement,
+    In man's punk-headed acts;
+    For since the day when Adam
+    Partook of the wrong tree,
+    We've toiled, and slipped, and blundered;
+    "What fools these mortals be".
+
+    Take out your horse or auto,
+    And drive the country roads,
+    And see the fields and orchards
+    Bearing their precious loads.
+    Old Mother Earth produces
+    With lavish hand and free,
+    But half is lost or ruined
+    By man's stupidity.
+
+    Ten thousand tons of apples
+    Will surely go to waste
+    While poor folk in the cities
+    Will hardly get a taste.
+    We take good wheat and barley
+    And manufacture bums,
+    Whose wives and little children
+    Are starving in the slums.
+
+    The man that's poor as woodwork,
+    And nearly always broke,
+    Can somehow find a nickel
+    To puff away in smoke;
+    While those who have the money
+    To eat and drink their fills,
+    Are sure to over-do it,
+    And run up doctor bills.
+
+    If, when the times are peaceful
+    I kill one man, by heck!
+    They'll call it bloody murder,
+    And hang me by the neck.
+    In war-time he's a hero,
+    Who sends through air or sea
+    A bomb to blow a thousand
+    Into Eternity.
+
+    And so, dear gentle reader,
+    You see, by all the rules,
+    That earth's whole population
+    Except ourselves are fools.
+
+
+
+
+THE CERTAINTIES
+
+
+    When icy blasts blow fierce and wild,
+      Cutting the face like steel,
+    And summer's heart is trodden down
+      'Neath winter's iron heel,
+    It's all a part of Nature's plan,
+      So stay and play the game;
+    Next Spring will bring the violets,
+      And roses just the same.
+
+    When Pharaoh's lean ill-favored kine
+      Have grazed the pastures brown.
+    And, on a parched and starving world
+      The brazen sun glares down;
+    Though Canaan's forests, fields and farms,
+      Are scorched, as with a flame,
+    There's food in Joseph's granaries
+      In Egypt just the same.
+
+    When Pharaoh makes the task more hard
+      For overburdened hands,
+    And stubble fields refuse the straw
+      His tale of bricks demands;
+    What matter if our little lives
+      Go out in fear and shame?
+    The waters of the mighty Nile
+      Flow onward just the same.
+
+    When, at the front, to bar the way,
+      The Red Sea waters stand,
+    And Egypt's hosts are close behind,
+      A fierce relentless band;
+    Intent their firstborn to avenge,
+      Their Hebrew slaves to claim:
+    Look up, and see the pyramids,
+      Firm standing, just the same.
+
+    When human ghouls hell's lid uplift
+      To plunder, burn and kill,
+    And Truth seems driven from her throne,
+      Say to your heart, "Be still!"
+    Don't think that Freedom's day is done,
+      And Honor but a name,
+    For right still reigns and planets gleam
+      In Heaven just the same.
+
+
+
+
+THE FRIENDLY SPIES
+
+A Tale of Camp Borden
+
+November, 1916
+
+The main camping ground of the Huron Indians was near where Camp Borden
+is now situated.
+
+
+    Where soldiers build their camp fires,
+      At night there gather 'round
+    The spirits of the Hurons
+      From Happy Hunting ground,
+    No sentry hears their footsteps,
+      They need no countersigns;
+    As silent as the moonlight,
+      They pass within the lines.
+
+    Fierce shine their dusky faces
+      As through the tents they glide,
+    Once more they smell the war paint
+      And know a warrior's pride;
+    The white man's modern weapons
+      Their ghostly fingers feel,
+    The guns so swift and deadly,
+      The long sharp blades of steel.
+
+    They nod to one another,
+      Nor knew so wild a joy
+    Since, leagued with the Algonquins,
+      They fought the Iroquois;
+    Among the sleeping soldiers
+      They pass the silent night,
+    And nudge, and smile, and whisper,
+      "White brother make big fight."
+
+    When shafts of light are breaking
+      Across the eastern sky,
+    They wrap their mantles 'round them,
+      And breathe a soft "Good-bye",
+    Then vanish like the shadows
+      That lurk among the trees,
+    The sentry hearing only
+      The sighing of the breeze.
+
+
+
+
+JACK CANUCK TO UNCLE SAM
+
+April, 1916
+
+
+    Take down your old gun, Uncle Sammy,
+      All your pockets with cartridges cram;
+    The war fogs that rise, cold and clammy,
+      Seem to frighten you some, Uncle Sam.
+    You once were the first to get ready,
+      The most eager in Liberty's fight,
+    Your brain, Unc. was clear, calm and steady,
+      When you battled for justice and right.
+
+    Time was when each star in Old Glory
+      Shone for freedom all round the wide world.
+    The winds and the waves told the story
+      Wheresoever its folds were unfurled;
+    But now your good rifle is rusty,
+      All your work of long years is undone.
+    Old Glory, bedraggled and dusty,
+      Is insulted and scorned by the Hun.
+
+    There once was a time, Uncle Sammy,
+      When the honor of sister or wife,
+    E'en that of a poor negro mammy,
+      You'd defend, Uncle Sam, with your life.
+    But now, what's the matter I wonder,
+      You see womanhood treated like junk,
+    And think but of guarding your plunder:
+      Can you tell me the reason, dear Unc.?
+
+    It seems that your head isn't level,
+      With your Wilsons, and Bryans and Fords,
+    You let things all go to the devil,
+      And protect your poor people with words.
+    It can't be the killing that vexes,
+      And prevents you from getting your gun,
+    You're lynching men now, down in Texas
+      For one tenth that the Kaiser has done.
+
+
+
+
+SAMMY
+
+April, 1918
+
+
+    Brave Sammy's a fighter, who said he was slow,
+    That Duffeldorf blighter was running his show?
+    The fellow who hinted that Sammy was slack,
+    With praise, now, unstinted, should take it all back;
+    For Sammy's a wonder, and now going strong,
+    ('Twas Somebody's blunder that held him so long)
+    He's just the right fellow, we're glad that he came,
+    The chap that is yellow has some other name.
+
+    This Sammy's a dandy; when once in the race,
+    He makes himself handy in any old place:
+    Can preach a good sermon, or sing a good song,
+    Or lick any German who happens along:
+    A single hand talker, as good as the best,
+    A two fisted fighter, with hair on his chest,
+    A long distance hiker, who never goes lame;
+    He's not any piker whatever the game.
+
+    There's no one that's quicker at pulling a gun,
+    He'll sure be a sticker when facing the Hun;
+    Can camp in a palace, or live in a tent,
+    Drink wine from a chalice, or eat meat in Lent;
+    Sweet tongued to the ladies and kind to the kids,
+    Condemns things to Hades, when down by the skids;
+    At home on the river, plantation or farm,
+    Sometimes a high liver who does himself harm.
+
+    Abstemious, very, when prices are high,
+    He learns to be merry without any pie;
+    An expert at poker, with money to spare,
+    A down and out broker who plays solitaire;
+    An orator forceful, a whale to invent,
+    O Sammy's resourceful, a versatile gent,
+    Though late in the race, Sam, we wish you good luck,
+    Come on, take your place, Sam, with Johnnie Canuck.
+
+
+
+
+FRANCE TO COLUMBIA
+
+November, 1916
+
+
+    Columbia, my sister,
+      Republic great and free,
+    When Liberty was threatened
+      I looked in vain to thee;
+    That hope was vain, my sister,
+      You lost your greatest chance;
+    Men live on lies in Utah,
+      Men die for truth in France.
+
+    Columbia, my sister,
+      You saw my blood run red,
+    My sons and daughters murdered,
+      The tears my orphans shed;
+    You raised no voice in protest,
+      To stop the Hun's advance;
+    Men live at ease in Kansas,
+      With hell let loose in France.
+
+    Columbia, my sister,
+      Your children you have seen,
+    Drowned in the cruel ocean
+      By German submarine;
+    But baseball is important,
+      The theatre and dance,
+    And pleasure rules in Texas
+      While horror reigns in France.
+
+    Columbia, my sister,
+      In sordid love of gain
+    Your vultures and hyenas
+      Wax fat upon the slain;
+    The nations, sorrow stricken,
+      Receive your careless glance,
+    And wealth in Massachusetts
+      Means poverty in France.
+
+    Columbia, my sister,
+      I know your heart is right,
+    Though on your head has fallen
+      This hellish Hunnish blight;
+    I love you still, my sister,
+      And warn you, lest perchance
+    The Huns may rule Wisconsin
+      When driven out of France.
+
+
+
+
+JIM'S SACRIFICE
+
+
+    Jim marched away one summer day
+      To fight the boastful Hun,
+    In khaki clad, as fine a lad
+      As ever carried gun,
+    No braver knight e'er went to fight,
+      In shining coat of mail,
+    In days of old, for love or gold,
+      Or for the Holy Grail.
+
+    His aim was sure, his heart was pure,
+      Like good Sir Galahad,
+    He played the game when hardships came
+      His face was always glad,
+    Until, by chance, somewhere in France,
+      He saw a "Hometown Sun,"
+    He read one page, then in a rage
+      He strafed it like a Hun.
+
+    The girl he loved had faithless proved,
+      And German slacker wed;
+    That cruel stroke Jim's spirit broke,
+      He wished that he were dead.
+    He who had been so straight and clean,
+      And every fellow's chum,
+    Now lived apart with hardened heart,
+      And soaked himself with rum.
+
+    'Mid rats and mice and fleas and lice
+      He spent his days and nights;
+    Waist deep in mud, besmeared with blood,
+      He fought a hundred fights;
+    His faith was lost, the angel host
+      Of Mons he didn't see;
+    No Comrade White beheld his plight,
+      With loving sympathy.
+
+    The devil strip, where bullets zipp,
+      The narrow neutral band
+    Where man to man they fight and plan
+      To win that "No Man's Land";
+    Here Jim would go to hunt the foe,
+      He thought it only fun,
+    And that day lost that couldn't boast
+      Another slaughtered Hun.
+
+    His awful deeds so say the creeds,
+      Jim's bright young manhood marred;
+    His health was sound, he got no wound,
+      But sin his spirit scarred.
+    Some lost their health, some lost their wealth,
+      Of all war took its toll,
+    Some lost their life in bloody strife,
+      Jim only lost his soul.
+
+
+
+
+THE ORGY OF THOR
+
+
+    The war god calls, whate'er befalls
+      His orders must be filled,
+    Though work may stop in mine and shop,
+      And farms may lie untilled.
+
+    At his command each human hand
+      Must toil to pay the price
+    In coal, or meat, or wool, or wheat,
+      Oil, cotton, corn or rice.
+
+    From pole to pole he takes control
+      Of land, and air, and tide,
+    Then death and dearth fill all the earth,
+      And hell's gate opens wide.
+
+    Fierce robber bands, o'er desert sands
+      No white man ever saw,
+    Bring all their spoil, with endless toil,
+      To fill the monster's maw.
+
+    O'er ice and snow the huskies go,
+      Beneath the northern star,
+    And gather toll, a scanty dole,
+      To pay the god of war.
+
+    From out the States go mighty freights
+      Of cotton, corn and oil;
+    From West to East, to feed the beast,
+      The people save and toil.
+
+    The West's astir, the binders whirr
+      Around the settler's shack;
+    The threshers hum, lest winter come
+      Before the wheat's in sack.
+
+    The bullocks strain on loaded wain,
+      Piled high with bales of wool,
+    A season's clip from shed to ship;
+      The cargo must be full.
+
+    The drivers swear, the bulls by pair
+      Plunge panting through the dust,
+    Like things accurst they die of thirst
+      The war gods say they must.
+
+    Where battle fields dread harvests yield
+      The war god's revels be,
+    Where blood runs red, he counts the dead,
+      And shrieks and howls in glee.
+
+    With fiendish laughs, he fiercely quaffs
+      The precious crimson tide;
+    He'll drink his fill, nor rest until
+      His blood lust's satisfied.
+
+
+
+
+MOTES AND BEAMS
+
+
+    We condemn, with hot curses, the Hun
+      For his piracy, perjury, pride,
+    For his nameless atrocities done,
+      For the ten million victims that died.
+    Then we'll lift holy hands to the skies,
+      When the day of our victory comes,
+    While pale children, with piteous cries,
+      Starve for bread in the slime of our slums.
+
+    We despite the degenerate Yank
+      With his blood-spattered idol of gold,
+    Who, his birthright, for cash in the bank,
+      And political pottage has sold.
+    Then we send our poor boys to the war
+      With a prayer that they keep themselves clean,
+    And we purchase a shining new car,
+      Praying harder for cheap gasoline.
+
+    We detest the false Bulgars and Greeks;
+      They must learn to be true to their friends;
+    They have proved themselves traitors and sneaks,
+      Using war for their own selfish ends.
+    But our grafters their pockets may fill,
+      While valiantly waving the flag,
+    Caring nothing who settles the bill,
+      If they only get off with the swag.
+
+    We abhor the unspeakable Turk,
+      For his orgies of murder and shame,
+    His detestable devilish work
+      Done in honor of Allah's fair name;
+    Then we pray as the Pharisee prayed,
+      While afar off the publican stood,
+    But forget the Creator has made
+      All the children of men of one blood.
+
+
+
+
+NURSE CAVELL
+
+November, 1915
+
+
+    This world has spots made holy
+      By deeds or lives of love,
+    Has shrines where high and lowly
+      Alike, their hearts may prove;
+    This age, when faith might falter
+      Mid shriek of shot and shell,
+    Has added one more altar,
+      The grave of Nurse Cavell.
+
+    She cared for sick and dying,
+      Knew neither friend nor foe,
+    She spent her strength in trying
+      To heal a neighbor's woe.
+    For deeds by love inspired
+      The Kaiser's vengeance fell
+    On form so frail and tired,
+      Heroic Nurse Cavell.
+
+    What though the Prussian kultur
+      Now threatened her with death;
+    She met the screaming vulture
+      In simple, quiet faith,
+    "I am an English woman,
+      I love my country well,
+    But must not hate a foeman,"
+      Said kindly Nurse Cavell.
+
+    She faced the guns with even,
+      Calm, fearless, English eyes,
+    And then, her foes forgiven,
+      Made willing sacrifice;
+    Thus, at the midnight hour,
+      In Prussian prison cell,
+    Crushed by a tyrant's power,
+      Died Christlike Nurse Cavell.
+
+    But when no more war legions
+      In battles fierce are hurled,
+    When, to remotest regions,
+      Peace reigns throughout the world;
+    Where'er beyond the waters
+      The British peoples dwell
+    Mothers will tell their daughters
+      The tale of Nurse Cavell.
+
+
+
+
+'TWAS EVER THUS
+
+November, 1916
+
+
+    O preacher, prophet, martyr, sage,
+      Whose message falls on heedless ears,
+    Bethink that unrepentant age
+      When Noah preached for six score years;
+    See Israel to Baal bowed,
+      The persecuting Pharisee,
+    And all the loaves and fishes crowd
+      Beside the sea of Galilee.
+
+    O patriot of humble birth,
+      With heart to help a fellow man,
+    To reconstruct the things of earth
+      Upon a nobler, wiser plan;
+    The curse that mars the lowly born
+      Will dog your footsteps till your death,
+    The proud Judeans' words of scorn,
+      "No good thing comes from Nazareth."
+
+    O mother, when your son lies dead,
+      You hate this cruel world of blood,
+    You pay the price, with grief bowed head,
+      The age-old price of motherhood.
+    'Twas thus Eve mourned o'er Abel's loss,
+      Naomi grieved in tents of Shem,
+    'Twas thus she wept beside the cross
+      Who bore a son in Bethlehem.
+
+    O soldier with the shattered breast,
+      Beside the shell-swept Flanders road,
+    The One who gives the weary rest
+      Knows all the burden of your load.
+    The anguished thirst, the bitter pain,
+      A Father's face He could not see,
+    The hate of man, sin's awful stain,
+      He bore them all on Calvary.
+
+
+
+
+EGO
+
+
+    The ego of the human race,
+      The sordid love of self,
+    We see it in life's hurried chase,
+      The grafter's greed for pelf.
+    The horror of the battle field,
+      The killed, the maimed, the blind,
+    The beaten foe, too proud to yield,
+      The ego of mankind.
+
+    The ego of the human race,
+      The poison in our blood,
+    The lying tongue, the double face,
+      Justice and Truth withstood.
+    The heavy task, the scanty pay,
+      The beggar with his bone,
+    The rich young man who went away,
+      The king upon his throne.
+
+    The ego of the human race,
+      The subtle serpent's lie
+    No toilsome years can e'er efface,
+      "Ye shall not surely die."
+    Eve still by serpent's word beguiled,
+      The curse on Ham that fell,
+    Poor outcast Hagar's starving child,
+      Cities where Lot might dwell.
+
+    The ego of the human race,
+      The toil each day brings in,
+    The idlers in the market place,
+      The sorrow and the sin;
+    Bequeathed from pre-historic sire,
+      In Turk and Teuton still,
+    The ape's inordinate desire,
+      The tiger's lust to kill.
+
+
+
+
+FREEDOM
+
+
+    We're fighting now for liberty
+      Where'er our armies are,
+    We wouldn't want our king to be
+      A Kaiser, or a Czar.
+    We want no rabbi with his book,
+      No priest in sable stole,
+    For priest and rabbi ne'er can brook
+      The freedom of the soul.
+
+    We must be free, to work, or play,
+      Or loaf, just when we like,
+    And if we get too little pay,
+      Be free to go on strike:
+    And if, perchance, we gain our goal,
+      And wealth to us should come,
+    We must be free to take our toll,
+      From workman's scanty crumb.
+
+    We must be free to hit the booze
+      That steals our children's bread,
+    The cash that ought to buy them shoes,
+      Pour down our necks instead.
+    We must be free to come and go;
+      No Russ nor Hun are we,
+    There's nothing grander here below
+      Than British liberty.
+
+    But when, from nations drowned in tears,
+      For crimes by Kaiser done,
+    The cry goes forth for volunteers
+      To come and fight the Hun;
+    We must be free at home to stay,
+      While others take their chance
+    "Of finding little homes of clay"
+      In Flanders or in France.
+
+
+
+
+TWENTY YEARS AFTER
+
+November, 1917
+
+
+    Where men make bloody sacrifice,
+      And pile the earth with slain,
+    Kind Mother Nature ever tries
+      To cover up the stain.
+    'Mid charnel of the tiger's den
+      May pure white lilies blow,
+    And on the graves of warlike men
+      The peaceful daisies grow.
+
+    The grass is all the greener now
+      Where men most fiercely strove,
+    And maids may hear on Vimy's brow
+      The cooing of the dove.
+    Where cannon roared by night and day,
+      And men in thousands fell,
+    The sunny headed children play,
+      And pick up bits of shell.
+
+    Where once raged war's infernal din,
+      And bullets fell like rain
+    The peaceful peasants gather in
+      A hundred fold of grain;
+    And where men plied the deadly steel,
+      And blood ran red like wine,
+    We see the holy sisters kneel
+      Beside the rebuilt shrine.
+
+    And over on the rising ground
+      The fresh young maples stand
+    To mark the graves of those who found
+      Death in a foreign land;
+    Here women of the nameless woes,
+      Still pray when day is done,
+    That God will rest the souls of those
+      Who strafed the hellish Hun.
+
+
+
+
+FAITH
+
+November, 1917
+
+
+    The soldier, when the war began,
+      Presumed the cause was right,
+    But didn't ask the campaign's plan;
+      His duty was to fight.
+    The child, with all things yet to prove,
+      Still thinks the world is fair,
+    While trusting in a mother's love,
+      And in a father's care.
+
+    The patient 'neath the surgeon's knife
+      Unconscious is, and still,
+    The only hope to save his life
+      Is in the doctor's skill.
+    The farmer sows in faith his seed,
+      And trusts the sun and rain,
+    Meanwhile he fights the choking weed
+      That grows among the grain.
+
+    The planets in their orbits roll,
+      The seasons come and go,
+    The angry seas own God's control,
+      His care the sparrows know.
+    But we, by pride made over bold,
+      Face Providence unawed,
+    And like the patriarch of old,
+      Presume to question God.
+
+    Ten thousand prayers in discord rise
+      From church and cloister dim,
+    When will we cease our feeble cries,
+      And trust the world to Him?
+    'Tis His the broken heart to bind,
+      To heal the serpent's bite,
+    The judge is He of all mankind,
+      And shall He not do right?
+
+
+
+
+EVERYBODY HELPING
+
+March, 1917
+
+
+    If you want a fine new car,
+          Do without,
+    If you like a good cigar,
+          Cut it out,
+    Thrift will help to win the war,
+          There's no doubt.
+
+    If you are too old to fight,
+          You can pay,
+    If you think war isn't right,
+          You can pray,
+    Help to crush the Kaiser's might
+          As you may.
+
+    If you are a Tory gay,
+          Or a Grit,
+    Throw your politics away,
+          Do your bit,
+    War is now the game to play;
+          You are it.
+
+    If you have good things to eat,
+          Pack a box,
+    If you are a maiden neat,
+          Knit some socks,
+    Keep the soldier's tired feet,
+          Off the rocks.
+
+    Get a piece of land on spec,
+          Plow and sow,
+    There's a place for every peck,
+          You can grow.
+    Swat the Kaiser in the neck,
+    Issue him a passage check
+          Down below.
+
+
+
+
+THE WORLD'S OVERDRAFT
+
+May, 1917
+
+
+    On life's broad fields, whate'er we sow,
+      'Tis certain we shall reap;
+    The watching scribes, above, below,
+      Somewhere a record keep.
+    The faithless church, the lying creed
+      Teaching that wrong is right,
+    The childless home, the heartless greed,
+      The jealousy and spite.
+
+    The feasting, selfish, idle rich,
+      The hungry, hardened poor,
+    The drunkard lying in the ditch,
+      The brothel's open door;
+    Whate'er we do, where'er we dwell,
+      Whate'er our names or creeds,
+    They total up in heaven or hell,
+      The sum of all our deeds.
+
+    We thought the race was to the swift,
+      The battle to the strong,
+    Like mariners with boat adrift,
+      We heard the sirens' song,
+    We put our trust in armies vast,
+      In battleships and marts,
+    We deemed but hoodoos of the past
+      The prayers from human hearts.
+
+    So heavy grew the moral debt
+      Of every class and rank,
+    No further credit could we get
+      At Satan's private bank.
+    The wealth bestowed by sea and land
+      We squandered in a day,
+    The devil took our notes of hand,
+      And now there's hell to pay.
+
+    The world will drown in blood and tears,
+      And famine stalk abroad,
+    'Til men repent their sordid years
+      And humbly call on God.
+    This cruel war the Kaiser made,
+      (The worst since Satan fell,)
+    Will end when all the world has paid
+      Its overdraft on hell.
+
+
+
+
+SLACKERS
+
+
+    We condemn, as selfish slackers,
+      Those not willing to enlist
+    To oppose the Prussian Kultur
+      And the Kaiser's iron fist,
+    But they're not the only slackers,
+      Those who will not go and fight.
+    For every man's a slacker
+      Who does less now than he might.
+
+    There are slackers in the pulpit,
+      In the elder's cushioned pew,
+    And all through the congregation
+      There are slackers not a few.
+    There are slackers in the workshop,
+      There are slackers on the farm,
+    And slackers down in Parliament
+      Whose defeat would do no harm.
+
+    Some munition men are slackers,
+      And some who store our food.
+    While they dream of higher profits
+      And of interest accrued.
+    We condemn the youthful shirker
+      And we say his heart's not right,
+    But there's many an arrant slacker
+      Not eligible to fight.
+
+    So let each and all get busy,
+      If we would the Kaiser thrash.
+    From the man who owns the millions
+      To the girl who slings the hash,
+    All the women busy knitting,
+      All the men out hoeing beans,
+    For the war may be decided
+      By the work behind the scenes.
+
+
+
+
+THE LOYAL BLACKS
+
+August, 1917
+
+
+    Three years ago the war began,
+      Three years ago to-day
+    The Empire's call to every man
+      Was either fight or pay.
+    Some men the country well could spare
+      Their clear-cut duty shun
+    But all the Blacks have done their share
+      To help defeat the Hun.
+
+    My brother Jim, who worked by spells
+      (He had a lazy streak)
+    Is busy now inspecting shells
+      At forty bones a week.
+    And Jack, of course, is rather young,
+      He's just nineteen or so,
+    And Tom had trouble with his lung
+      About twelve years ago.
+
+    My brother Ben would like to fight,
+      The Kaiser makes him wild,
+    But if he went 'twould not be right,
+      He has a wife and child.
+    I cannot lease my farm and store,
+      With prices soaring higher,
+    If times keep good for two years more
+      I think I can retire.
+
+    Although we didn't volunteer
+      And learn the soldier's art,
+    We hold some good positions here
+      And bravely do our part,
+    While some the khaki suits have donned,
+      And in the trenches slave
+    We put into a war loan bond
+      Each dollar we can save.
+
+    But there are lots of husky chaps
+      Could go as well as not,
+    There's Arthur Mee and Joe perhaps,
+      Paul Pierce and Barney Bott,
+    And Peter Jones and Sam Delong,
+      And Jack Smith's hired man,
+    And Scotty Moss, and Wesley Strong,
+      And Billy Barlow's Dan.
+
+    And Robert Green and Walter White,
+      And others I could name;
+    When these refuse to go and fight
+      It is a burning shame;
+    I think they should be forced to go,
+      Conscription is the plan
+    To catch these chaps so very slow
+      And make them play the man.
+
+
+
+
+THE TROUBLES OF TINO
+
+
+    War pot is still stewing,
+      Not a sign of peace,
+    Trouble now is brewing
+      'Round the shores of Greece;
+    Tino needs our pity,
+      Threatened by the Huns,
+    Seaboard town and city
+      Faced by British guns.
+    If he helps the Germans
+      Lose his job for life;
+    If he favors Britain
+      Has to square his wife.
+    Holds no trumps nor aces,
+      Cannot take a trick,
+    Cards are all queen's faces,
+      Tino's feeling sick.
+    Tino never whistles,
+      Neither does he sing,
+    Bed of thorns and thistles;
+      Who would be a king?
+
+
+
+
+HAS THE WORLD GONE MAD?
+
+December, 1916
+
+
+    What a lack of reason
+      In this earthly throng!
+    In and out of season
+      Everything goes wrong;
+    Over there in Europe
+      Kaiser, king and czar,
+    Raise a mighty flare up,
+      Plunge a world in war.
+
+    Neither king nor kaiser
+      Down in Mexico,
+    Are the people wiser?
+      Echo answers, "No!"
+    There, contending factions
+      Murder, pillage, burn;
+    Plunder and exactions
+      Everywhere you turn.
+
+    Has the world gone crazy?
+      Are the men all fools?
+    Is our thinking hazy,
+      Spite of all our schools?
+
+
+
+
+THE TREES
+
+
+    The wind that through the forest blows
+      May scatter leaves and blossoms wide.
+    The parent tree but firmer grows
+      When by the tempest torn and tried.
+
+    The stately oak withstands the storm
+      That rocks its boughs in fiercest strife;
+    The winds that shake its sturdy form
+      But give a deeper, stronger life.
+
+    The maple leaves are falling fast,
+      The sugar groves look gaunt and grim,
+    But sap will flow when winter's past,
+      And sweetness course through every limb.
+
+    The mighty eucalyptus tree
+      But sheds its bark at winter's call
+    Its leaves retain their greenery,
+      And yield a curing oil for all.
+
+    A seedling in the Maori's time,
+      Now, toughened by a thousand gales,
+    Straight stands the kauri in its prime,
+      Fit mast for proudest ship that sails.
+
+    Drooping its weary fronds, the palm
+      In sorrow stands on sun-baked plain
+    Till comes, like blessed healing balm,
+      The early and the latter rain.
+
+    The noble banyan dying lives,
+      In youth 'twould shield a single man,
+    In age its spreading shelter gives
+      Shade for a prince's caravan.
+
+    No weaklings these, their roots deep down
+      In Mother Earth retain their hold.
+    To heaven they raise a leafy crown,
+      Sound-hearted, loyal, earnest-souled.
+
+
+
+
+WHO KNOWS
+
+
+      =The pessimist=
+
+    Our lot is cast in evil days
+      We almost lose our faith in God,
+    We cannot comprehend His ways,
+      Nor recognize His chast'ning rod.
+    To stem the Hun's relentless tread,
+      His hymns of hate, his crimes of Cain
+    We give our daily toll of dead,
+      But wonder if 'tis all in vain.
+
+      =The Optimist=
+
+    Brave men must fight, brave men must fall,
+      Whene'er a tyrant lifts his head;
+    When Freedom sounds her battle call,
+      We must not grudge our noble dead.
+    E'en now the victor's shouts we hear,
+      On blood bought hill, o'er shell-swept plain;
+    The end of tyranny is near,
+      Our struggle has not been in vain.
+
+      =The Socialist=
+
+    If, when our cheering shall have died,
+      No more for sordid grain we plan,
+    But shed the hoofs and horns of pride,
+      And strive to help our fellow man,
+    So each will get a fair return
+      For labor done by hand or brain
+    And none can take what others earn;
+      The war will not have been in vain.
+
+      =The Anarchist=
+
+    If still the selfish creed we preach
+      Of pleasure, ease and strife for gold;
+    Employer, and employee, each
+      Resentful, greedy, uncontrolled;
+    Then poor men still will curse the great,
+      And hellish hordes will rise again
+    With hungry, hardened, Hunnish hate;
+      This war will have been fought in vain.
+
+
+
+
+AFTERWARDS
+
+
+    When the war shall have ceased with its sorrow,
+      Its hunger, and horror, and hell,
+    In the dawn of a brighter to-morrow,
+      What tale will historians tell?
+    Will the nations get records of glory,
+      Of cowardice, courage or crime,
+    When the sages record the true story,
+      To ring down the decades of time?
+
+    We believe that some peoples now broken,
+      And crushed by the Turk and the Hun
+    Will arise from their darkness unspoken,
+      And stand in the light of the sun.
+    And it may be that Germans, grown wiser
+      And taught at so fearful a cost,
+    Will have hanged their contemptible Kaiser
+      And regained the fair name they have lost.
+
+    We believe that the allies now fighting,
+      And lavishing billions untold,
+    Will have found, in the wrong that needs righting,
+      A service far better than gold;
+    That in bearing the load of another,
+      In heeding the cry of the pained,
+    That in staying the feet of a brother,
+      Fresh strength for themselves will have gained.
+
+    And some lands that now cravenly study
+      The getting of guerdons and gain,
+    May have found their gold blasted and bloody,
+      And tarnished by tears for the slain;
+    And because they dishonoured their stations
+      Were weak when they should have been strong,
+    May be treated with scorn by the nations,
+      A byword and hissing among.
+
+    So the scribe will set down in his pages
+      The story the centuries tell,
+    That, for sin, death is still the true wages,
+      And broad the road leading to hell.
+
+
+
+
+GERMAN SECURITIES FALL
+
+
+    The British guns have spoken
+      And Bill may lose his crown,
+    The German line is broken,
+      And saur-kraut is down.
+
+    The gallant French are storming
+      The Huns with iron hail;
+    They've given Fritz a warning,
+      And limburger is stale.
+
+    The Russ is westward pushing,
+      Herding the Huns like sheep,
+    Thus ends the big four flushing,
+      And liverwurst is cheap.
+
+    King Victor's brave Italians
+      Are driving back pell-mell
+    The Austrian battalions
+      And weiners will not sell.
+
+    The Belgians, too, are holding
+      Their end up with the rest,
+    They hear the Teutons scolding,
+      Bologna's past its best.
+
+    Roumanians, and others,
+      Who now are standing pat
+    Will call the allies brothers
+      When lager beer goes flat.
+
+
+
+
+TROUBLE IN THE TRENCHES
+
+The true story of the difficulty on the Russian front.
+
+September, 1917
+
+
+    When Slav and Russ had raised a fuss,
+      And sent their Czar a-kiting,
+    Said Givinski to Blatherski,
+      "We've done enough of fighting."
+
+    "I've got a cough," wheezed Killmanoff,
+      "From working in the trenches,
+    I'd rather fight a doggoned sight,
+      Than put up with the stenches.
+
+    I want to quit and take a sit
+      In some place clean and brighter,
+    Let those who like come down the pike
+      To strafe the German blighter."
+
+    "I've got the itch," growled Dirtovitch,
+      "Bog spavin and lumbago."
+    "I'm never dry," swore Goshallski,
+      "I smell worse than a Dago."
+
+    "This cheese is high," grouched Buttinski,
+      "No hungry rat would eat it."
+    "This meat is tough," whined Ivanuff,
+      "I think we ought to beat it."
+
+    "It makes me mad," stormed Hazembad,
+      "The prevalence of vermin."
+    "You've said it right," owned Gotabite,
+      "I'm lousy as a German."
+
+    Said Takemoff, "Our lives are rough
+      In these here blooming ditches,
+    But mine's the worst by half a verst,
+      Since some guy stole my breeches."
+
+    Their pay was back, their belts were slack,
+      Each man his troubles blurted.
+    With empty guns to face the Huns,
+      Small wonder they deserted.
+
+
+
+
+THE WORSHIPPERS
+
+
+    Wo Sing was just a heathen blind,
+      A dull insensate clod,
+    Yet somehow to his darkened mind,
+      There came a thought of God.
+    He shaped an idol out of clay,
+      And to it bowed his knee;
+    No one had taught him how to pray,
+      Alas, the poor Chinee!
+
+    An artist took his brush and paint,
+      And on his canvas board,
+    He wrought a picture of a saint,
+      And called it Christ the Lord;
+    With patient hand, and wondrous skill,
+      Retouched that kindly face,
+    But thought it ever lacking still,
+      In majesty and grace.
+
+    A preacher in his pulpit stood,
+      (His words the people trust,)
+    His message was that God is good,
+      And knows mankind is dust.
+    He drew a picture of a Lord,
+      Omniscient, pure and kind,
+    His thoughts, His purposes, His word,
+      Too high for human mind.
+
+    The Kaiser has conceived a god,
+      To rule o'er sea and land,
+    With strong, remorseless, iron rod,
+      In Hohenzollern hand;
+    A god who honors lies and fraud,
+      And mean hypocrisy,
+    A boastful, bloody, brutal god,
+      The god of Germany.
+
+    And thus we all our idols make,
+      As our conception is,
+    And pray our Father, but to take,
+      Our helpless hands in His;
+    To give us each a ray of hope,
+      To each a message bring,
+    Each king and kaiser, priest and pope,
+      Each humble poor Wo Sing.
+
+
+
+
+TO JEAN BAPTISTE
+
+
+    O Jean Baptiste! do not resist
+      The military act, Jean;
+    You like to fight, the cause is right,
+      (You know this is a fact, Jean.)
+    When tasks are hard, 'tis not, old pard.
+      Your way to ever shirk, Jean;
+    The saw-log jam, mills, woods and dam
+      All tell how well you work, Jean.
+
+    It isn't fear that keeps you here,
+      You're active, brave and strong, Jean;
+    But in this scrap, by some mishap,
+      We got you going wrong, Jean.
+    In dear old France, the Huns advance
+      With bullet, bomb and gas, Jean,
+    It's hardly square that you're not there;
+      (Hank Bourassa's an ass, Jean.)
+
+    That we may win, you must begin
+      To help more in this fight, Jean,
+    The die is cast, forget our past
+      Intolerance and spite, Jean,
+    The things you love may worthless prove,
+      If you don't get your gun, Jean;
+    Your woods, and mines, your homes and shrines,
+      May all go to the Hun, Jean.
+
+    Our kinsmen brave, across the wave,
+      The Kaiser have defied, Jean,
+    British and French, in bloody trench,
+      Are fighting side by side, Jean.
+    Where duty leads, what matter creeds,
+      Or what baptismal font, Jean?
+    So let us sing--"Long live the king"
+      And join the bonne entente, Jean.
+
+
+
+
+THE LOST TRIBES
+
+
+    We read about the tribes dispersed,
+      That Israelitish host,
+    Condemned and exiled, sin-accursed,
+      Among the Gentiles lost,
+    We wonder what strange paths they walk,
+      In what far land they dwell,
+    Where now does Reuben feed his flock,
+      And Joseph buy and sell?
+
+    In search of them we vainly roam
+      Through distant, foreign states,
+    Then find a people nearer home
+      With all the Hebrew traits.
+    They seize the heathen nations' land,
+      And hold it by the sword,
+    And deem themselves a righteous band.
+      The chosen of the Lord.
+
+    They deem themselves a righteous band,
+      And for religion's sake
+    They bravely compass sea and land
+      One proselyte to make.
+    They drive poor Hagar from their homes
+      The wilderness to search,
+    While Abraham, forsooth, becomes
+      A pillar in the church.
+
+    They scorn their dreaming brother's right
+      To visions he may have,
+    And to the warring Ishmaelite
+      They sell him as a slave.
+    Unmoved they hear the cry of pain,
+      Old Jacob's wailing note,
+    "An evil beast my son has slain,
+      There's blood on Joseph's coat."
+
+    When wearied on the desert track,
+      With hunger faint and weak,
+    Egyptian flesh pots lure them back,
+      The garlic and the leek.
+    The fruitful promised land they view,
+      But fear to enter in.
+    And wander still, a faithless crew,
+      The Wilderness of Sin.
+
+    Their enemies before them flee.
+      Their foemen's gates they hold,
+    But Esau's birthright still we see
+      To crafty Jacob sold.
+    They worship Aaron's golden calf,
+      But scorn his priestly rod,
+    And when from Marah's springs they quaff,
+      They murmur against God.
+
+    Though David's sceptre still remains
+      With Judah's royal line,
+    On Leah's sons are bloody stains,
+      And Ephriam's drunk with wine;
+    Blind Sampson, by Delilah's shears,
+      Is made grind Dagon's corn,
+    But only in a thousand years
+      Is there a Moses born.
+
+
+
+
+RELIABILITY
+
+
+    Britannia's word was spoken
+      The feeble to defend,
+    That promise was not broken,
+      She kept it to the end.
+    Britannia's word is good,
+      Tried, tested, proved in blood,
+    In every land, 'mid snow or sand,
+      She for the truth has stood.
+
+    Britannia borrowed millions
+      In thrifty days of old,
+    Now, when she asks for billions,
+      She always gets the gold.
+    Britannia's note is good,
+      She signs it with her blood,
+    Each promise made, she fully paid,
+      Let cost be what it would.
+
+    Britannia's sons are falling,
+      The proud, the strong, the gay,
+    They heard their mother calling,
+      They would not say her, nay.
+    Britannia's sword is good,
+      She draws it when she should,
+    The flag that flies 'neath all the skies
+      A thousand years has stood.
+
+
+
+
+THE McLEANS
+
+
+    The heather's on fire. McLeans from the byre,
+      The hamlet, the city, the wide open plains,
+    The lairds and rapscallions fill up the battalions
+      With blue blood, with true blood, the loyal McLeans.
+
+    They hear the drums rattle, they rush to the battle,
+      (Each man in the clan a base coward disdains),
+    They die in their glory, the trenches are gory
+      With red blood, with shed blood of gallant McLeans.
+    Afar on the heather, where hame folk foregather,
+      The pibroch is wailing a dirge for the slain,
+    The women are weeping, their lane vigils keeping,
+      Sair, sair, are the hearts in the clan o' McLean.
+
+    But mony will stick it, till Kaiser Bill's lickit,
+      And doontrodden people get back a' their ain,
+    Then Maids will stop greeting, for soon they'll be meeting
+      The bonnie brave lads o' the clan o' McLean.
+
+
+
+
+FARMER JOHN SPEAKS HIS MIND
+
+May, 1917
+
+
+    Those fellows down in parliament
+      Have kicked up such a fuss,
+    That now we seem election bent
+      To clean up all the muss.
+    The Grits are sharpening their swords
+      To give the Tories fits,
+    While they, with scorching bitter words
+      Denounce the faithless Grits.
+
+    All out of doors is fresh and green,
+      But no more green than we
+    Who help to run the Grit machine,
+      Or bow the Tory knee.
+    We hear the strident party call
+      In words no one believes;
+    The Liberals are traitors all,
+      The Tories all are thieves.
+
+    The birds are singing in the trees,
+      Old Summer's back at last,
+    The lilacs scent the morning breeze,
+      The crops are growing fast;
+    Why should we leave these peaceful scenes,
+      And don our vests and coats,
+    To hear those chaps who spilled the beans
+      Slangwhanging for our votes?
+
+    If we give heed to every tale
+      Told when the campaign's hot,
+    The Tories all should be in jail,
+      The Grits should all be shot.
+    Let's raise more chickens, calves and shoats,
+      The politicians shun,
+    Let's grow more beans and wheat and oats,
+      And help defeat the Hun.
+
+
+
+
+WHEN THE GAME ISN'T FAIR
+
+
+    As we struggle up life's hillside
+      Where the road is hard and long,
+    Weak, discouraged, tired, lonely,
+      And everything gone wrong.
+    When we see some men refusing
+      Their allotted load to bear,
+    While their brother's back is breaking,
+      Then we know the game's not fair.
+
+    When we see some men grow wealthy,
+      While their brothers die in France,
+    We rebel at the injustice,
+      And demand an even chance;
+    When we see some children hungry,
+      With no decent clothes to wear,
+    And some other stuffed and pampered,
+      Then we know the game's not fair.
+
+    When we have to pay high taxes
+      On our little wooden shack,
+    Though the mortgage isn't settled
+      And the interest is back,
+    When the rich man's stately mansion,
+      Doesn't pay its proper share,
+    And he lies about his income,
+      Then we know the game's not fair.
+
+    When we read in all the papers
+      How our boys are strafing Fritz,
+    Throwing bombs into his trenches
+      For to blow him all to bits,
+    When we think of him that started
+      This vile war, then we declare
+    If the Kaiser goes unpunished
+      We shall know the game's not fair.
+
+
+
+
+HEINIE'S HOLLER
+
+
+    Britty soon now fife years vill pe done
+    Since ve march into Belgium von day,
+    But since den some beeg rifers have run
+    Troo de pridges, I tink all de vay,
+    Den already de tings seemed so blain,
+    Ven ve shtart oudt to lick de whole vorld
+    Ve vas sure dat us Shermans vould reign
+    Shoost verefer our flag vas unfurled.
+
+    For to see dat some tings can't pe done
+    All dose Junker man's heads vas too tick,
+    Und, inshtead of a blace in de sun,
+    Ve haf got, vot you call, armyshtick.
+    Vot dot armyshtick baper's aboudt
+    I can't get troo dis headpiece of mine
+    But dose fellers dot von wrote it oudt,
+    Und us fellers dat lost had to sign.
+
+    Shoost so soon vas dat Armyshtick made
+    Den dose allies dey run de whole show,
+    For already deir plans vas all laid
+    Ven ve back into Shermany go.
+    Dere vas fellers from England und France,
+    Und Yankees, Italians und Japs,
+    Mit some hoboes dat all get a chance
+    From some blaces not marked on de maps.
+
+    For six months now dey talk und dey shmoke,
+    Mit no Shermans at all in de game
+    Und dey tink up von pully goot shoke,
+    Den dey tell us to write down our name.
+    Dey vould take all our money und ships,
+    Und dose blace in de sun dat ve got.
+    But we ain't handing oudt no free trips,
+    Und won't sign no beace dreaty like dot.
+
+
+
+
+WHAT WE WON
+
+
+    Was it for this, I want to know,
+      We saw our boys to Flanders go;
+    For this that Belgium suffered so,
+      That France withstood the ruthless foe,
+    And said "No further shalt thou go,"
+      That Serbia was plunged in woe,
+    And women wept along the Po;
+      That Poles were herded to and fro,
+    And Anzacs died at Gallipo;
+      That Britain let her plans all go,
+    Laid bare her breast, and took the blow,
+      And held the seas 'neath sun and snow
+    Danger above and death below;
+      That Uncle Sam, though rather slow
+    To scrap the doctrine of Monroe,
+      Got busy at the final show?
+
+    For years of blood and tears, although
+      We boast the Kaiser's overthrow,
+    The net results seem these, I trow,
+      That profiteers pile up the dough,
+    And gather where they did not sow,
+      That scythes of death fresh harvests mow,
+    Where Bolshevists fierce whiskers grow,
+      And no Hun yet has eaten crow;
+    That Wild Sinn Feiners, fallen low,
+      Plan proud Britannia's overthrow,
+    Save these the world can little show,
+      But wooden crosses, row on row.
+    In Flanders fields, where poppies blow.
+
+
+
+
+THE HOME COMING
+
+July 1st, 1919
+
+
+    Now that Heinie is licked to a frazzle,
+      And Fritzie is clipped in the comb,
+    We're holding a big razzle-dazzle
+      To welcome our soldier boys home.
+    They bore themselves brave in the battle
+      They kept themselves clean on parade,
+    They herded the Bosches like cattle
+      In many a nerve-racking raid.
+
+    In order to do the boys justice,
+      We need all the help we can get,
+    Without it the contract will bust us
+      And swamp the committee with debt.
+    So we want all old timers of Wingham,
+      (Although the good town has gone dry)
+    Fast as railroad or auto can bring 'em,
+      To come on the first of July.
+
+    Perhaps you've grown rich on the prairies,
+      Your farm in town lots you have sold,
+    Or, with products of wheat fields and dairies,
+      Have lined all your pockets with gold,
+    Or it may be your harp strings are rusted,
+      Your measures all halting and lame,
+    Perhaps you're discouraged and busted,
+      And tired of playing the game.
+
+    If so, come to Wingham this summer,
+      Forget the world's trouble and strife,
+    Our program will sure be a hummer,
+      We'll give you the time of your life.
+    We'll make no untimely suggestions,
+      Concerning the length of your stay,
+    Nor ask you impertinent questions
+      About what you've done while away.
+
+
+
+
+=The Opinions Of Fritz=
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ FINDS FAULT
+
+("Canadians are using lacrosse sticks to throw hand grenades into German
+trenches."--News Item.)
+
+
+    "Dere is some tings not right in dis schrap,
+      For dose English and French don't fight fair
+    Ven dey pring in de Turco and Jap
+      Und de Hindu and beeg Russian bear;
+    But already us goot Sherman mans
+      Ve vas ending dot var britty quick,
+    Till dey shtart oop some more dirty blans,
+      Ven dose poys vill trow bombs mit a shtick.
+
+    Ve don't mind some old rifles und guns,
+      Nor dose airships und Dreadnoughts und tings,
+    Ve don't care if dey call us de Huns,
+      [1] Und ve laugh at de song dat dey sings:
+    But dose teufels from Canada come,
+      Dey vould blay us von mean shabby trick,
+    For ve can't get avay from de bomb
+      Dat dey trow from de end of a shtick.
+
+    Ven ve tink ve are safe for de day,
+      Mit goot sausage and saurkraut filled,
+    Dose Canadians shtart oop to blay
+      Mit a game dat ve nefer haf drilled.
+    Ven ve see dose tings fly troo de air
+      Den already ve feel britty sick;
+    If dey hit us dey don't seem to care,
+      Ven dey trow dose old bombs mit a shtick.
+
+    Ven ve shoots all our cartridge avay,
+      Und de vagons don't pring any more;
+    Ven our shells get more scarce efry day,
+      Mit our shirts und our breechaloons tore,
+    Und de shmokes und de limburger done
+      (Dot is spreading it on britty tick),
+    Den I tells you it isn't no fun
+      Ven dose poys vill trow bombs mit a shtick."
+
+[Footnote 1: Tipperary]
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ HAS ANOTHER GROUCH
+
+(The Germans say that if it hadn't been for the Canadian Rats they would
+have got through to Calais.--News Item.)
+
+
+    Dere's a ting dat I'll nefer furshtay.
+      Ven ve shtart oop dat goot poison gas,
+    Vy dose Rats don't get oudt of de vay,
+      So us Shermans to Ypres can pass.
+    Ven ve shoots all our cartridge avay,
+      Dat's already deir time to retreat;
+    Vot's de use so ve make de beeg fight,
+      If dose Rats don't know ven dey get beat?
+
+    Mit de gas dey gets britty soon killed,
+      Den ve send dem de shrapnel some more,
+    Und de bombshell mit limburger filled,
+      Dat vill shmell vorse dan Duffeldorf's shtore;
+    But dose beggars come back mit a rush,
+      Und I twice mit deir bay'nets get pricked;
+    Vot's de use so ve make de beeg push,
+      If dose Rats don't know ven dey get licked?
+
+    I soon made some goot running, you pet!
+      Ven dey come like vild teufels behind;
+    All my life I vill dream of dem yet,
+      For I tought sure mine bapers vos signed.
+    Dey came on mit a yump und a yell
+      Till right into our trenches dey dashed;
+    Vot's de use so ve trow de beeg shell,
+      If dose Rats don't know ven dey get smashed?
+
+    Ve haf tried efry blan dat ve knows,
+      But to scare dem no vay haf ve found,
+    (How ve vish dey had shtayed vere de snows
+      Blow dose maples und pines all around).
+    Day und night dey vill put oop de shcrap,
+      Und already ve lose vot ve got;
+    Vot's de use for us setting de trap,
+      If dose Rats don't know ven dey get caught.
+
+
+
+
+THE KAISER CONSULTS FRITZ
+
+October, 1915
+
+
+    Ven der Kaiser vould shtart some beeg shtunt,
+    All dose shwells den soon come to de front,
+      Und de prince, und de king
+      Seem to be de whole ting,
+    Mit old Fritz at de heel of de hunt.
+
+    But somedimes ven de Kaiser's in doubt,
+    Und already can't find his vay oudt;
+      Ven dose hard shpots he hits,
+      Den he say--"Mine dear Fritz,
+    Vot you tinks of dis peesness, old Scoudt?"
+
+    So it vas mit dose junkers so shlick,
+    Dey vould soon end dis var britty quick;
+      But, shoost after de Marne
+      De crawl unter de barn,
+    For already dey feel mighty sick.
+
+    Den der kaiser say--"Fritzie, old chap,
+    Let me know vot you tink of dis schrap;
+      Vill ve lick dose beeg shmoke,
+      Or go britty soon proke,
+    Mit de faderland viped off de map?"
+
+    Den I say--"Dat's von very hard case;
+    Can tree jacks beat four kings und some ace?
+      Ven ve hafn't de card
+      Ve must bluff britty hard,
+    Or shoost trow down our hand in disgrace.
+
+    If like checkers ve blay, don't forget
+    Dey got more men dan ve haf, you bet!
+      If ve makes some beeg schore,
+      Und not man off no more,
+    Ve may shtop mit a draw, maype yet."
+
+    Den der Kaiser say--"Tanks, Mr. Strauss,
+    On your back dere don't grow any moss;
+      I'll shoost blay some more pranks
+      On dose silly old Yanks"
+    Den he gif me von nice iron cross.
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ IN THE HOSPITAL
+
+
+    Ven der Kaiser his var bugles blow,
+    Und say: "Fritz, to de front you must go,"
+      Den it vasn't so strange,
+      I vas glad for de change;
+    But I hope mine Katrina don't know.
+
+    Britty soon ve're de whole of de show,
+    Und like vater dose goot liquors flow;
+      Ven, mit vine und champaigne
+      Ve got drunk in Louvain,
+    Dere vas tings mine Katrina don't know.
+
+    Soon already, ve fight mit de foe,
+    For von year, und it seems britty slow;
+      If I'm killed in de trench
+      By dose English und French
+    Den perhaps mine Katrina von't know.
+
+    So dis time, ven dose hand grenades trow,
+    Den I tinks soon it's time for to go;
+      If mine back's full mit lead,
+      Not mine breast, nor mine head,
+    Dat's von ting mine Katrina don't know.
+
+    Ven dey takes me some blace down pelow,
+    Mit tree hundred vite peds in von row;
+      For dose nice English nurse
+      [2] I forget dat beeg curse,
+    But I'm glad mine Katrina don't know.
+
+[Footnote 2: Gott Strafe England!]
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ PHILOSOPHIZES
+
+
+    Since I'm held in his hospital up,
+      Mine poor back full mit shrapnel und lead
+    Ven I tink of der Kaiser und Krupp,
+      Dere's a ting dat von't come troo mine head.
+    Vot already I'm tinking aboudt,
+      To pelieve in mine heart I can't yet,
+    But de more dat I knows I find oudt
+      Vy dose Englishmans frightened don't get.
+
+    Ve haf guns dat vill shoot forty miles,
+      Dat de fort und de city desthroys;
+    Ve haf Zepps. of de latest new shtyles;
+      Ve haf millions of men und more poys;
+    Ve haf hundreds of unterseeboots
+      Dat all ships from de ocean vill drive,
+    Und ve kills, und ve burns, and ve shoots
+      Till dere von't pe no English alive.
+
+    But for none of dese tings vill dey shcare
+      It's deir nerve (dat's, I tink, vat they call),
+    Ven ve tink ve haf licked dem, I shwear
+      Dat dose English shoost laugh und play ball.
+    But ven Shermans get oudt from de trench,
+      Den ve crawl avay somewhere to shmoke,
+    Mit some schooners de beeg thirst to quench,
+      For already our hearts vas near proke.
+
+    Ven dose English come on mit a run,
+      Den deir officers lead all de vay;
+    But us Shermans get chained to de gun,
+      Vile de boss in some safe blace vill shtay,
+    Maype dat's vy ve gets de cold feet,
+      Und dose English don't scare vort a cent;
+    For a private vil nefer redreat
+      From de blace vere his leader first vent.
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ WRITES TO HIS FRAU
+
+
+    Dear Katrina--Dis letter I write
+      From von hospital, somevere in France,
+    For I get so proke oop in de fight
+      Dat dis maype vill be mine last chance.
+    Vell, I hold von whole trench py mineself,
+      Mit some poys dat shoost come to de front;
+    Britty soon dey get laid on de shelf,
+      Den your Fritz have to do be beeg shtunt.
+
+    Ven I shoot all dose English and French,
+      Den already I tinks I vill shmoke,
+    Den I hunts von safe blace in de trench,
+      Vere de rain mit de ground doesn't soak.
+    Soon I vake mit a punch from a gun,
+      Und I hear von Canadian say:
+    "Come mit me, you darned shleepy old Hun,"
+      Den he shteal mine seegars all avay.
+
+    Den de next ting I know I am here,
+      For already de vorld had turned plack;
+    Dat Canadian certain vos queer,
+      For he carry me in on his back.
+    From mine preast so mooch hardvare got oudt
+      Britty soon I can shtart von shmall shtore;
+    If dere's any old junk mans aboudt
+      Dey might call at dis hospital door.
+
+    Now Katrina don't vorry some more,
+      Keep de grubs from de cabbage avay,
+    Und pe sure dat you lock oop de door,
+      Ven alone in de house you must shtay.
+    Put some flowers on leetle Karl's grave;
+      All de time now I'm glad he is dead;
+    Vot's de use to grow oop shtrong und prave,
+      Only shoost to get shot troo de head?
+
+                               Mine truly, Fritz.
+
+
+
+
+KATRINA REPLIES TO FRITZ
+
+
+    Mine dear Fritz: It shoost makes me feel plue
+      Ven I get me dat letter you write,
+    For already mine fears haf come true
+      Dat you maype get hurt in dis fight,
+    Vot's de use so you make de beeg splash,
+      Und you hold de whole trench py your self?
+    Dat don't put no more meat in mine hash
+      Und not any more pread on mine shelf.
+
+    Do you tink dat der Kaiser vill care?
+      If he gifs you von cheap iron cross,
+    Ven I lose mine own Fritz I can't shpare,
+      Vot vill dat do to make oop mine loss?
+    Britty soon all de men haf gone oudt,
+      Und von't maype come back any more;
+    Dere's shoost left yet old Hans, mit de goudt,
+      Und de Duffledorf poy at de shtore.
+
+    You vill now shtay von prisoner yet,
+      Till already de var is all done,
+    But perhaps dat's more safer, you pet,
+      Dan to shtand in de front of de gun.
+    Dere's shoost von ting I tell you; bevare
+      Of dose nurse mit de shining plack eyes,
+    If dey got some pink cheeks, und brown hair,
+      Your Katrina is double deir size.
+
+    Vot you tink, Fritz? Der Kaiser's men come,
+      Und de cherries all pick from de trees,
+    Den dey take all mine apples and plum,
+      Und mine carrots und cabbages seize;
+    De potatoes dey got mit de rest,
+      Und, pecause I vould raise von beeg row,
+    Dey shoost tell me, pull down mit mine vest
+      Und dey call me von noisy old frau.
+
+                             Yours yet, Katrina.
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ WRITES AGAIN
+
+
+    Dear Katrina,--Dis letter you get
+      So already you know how I vas;
+    Vell, dere's von ting dat troubles me yet,
+      Und I tells you de reason pecause;
+    Dose nurse doctors you tink vas so gay
+      Haf de heaves, und blind staggers und gout,
+    Und dey trow dose nice cabbage avay
+      Dat vould make me some goot saur-kraut.
+
+    Und de limburger cheese dat you sent,
+      Dat vas making me feel shtrong und vell,
+    Britty soon mit the garbage it vent,
+      For dose nurses dey don't like de shmell.
+    Ven I ask for pork sausages vonce,
+      Den dey say, (vot I tells you is true,)
+    "Don't you know, you fat-headed old dunce,
+      Dose vill gif you de tic-doul-our-eux."
+
+    Dey von't let me no liverwurst eat;
+      For dey say it ain't fit for de crows.
+    Ven I ask for some shmiercase so shweet,
+      Den dey laugh und dey turn up deir nose,
+    Dey shoost feed me some custards und jell
+      Und some broth dat I drink mit a cup,
+    How dey tink I vill efer get vell
+      If dey don't keep mine stomach filled up?
+
+    Ven dis var vill get ofer you pet!
+      Den some pickled pig's feet I vill buy,
+    Mit bologna and shnapps, maype yet,
+      Und some coffee to drink ven I'm dry,
+    Britty soon to mine bed I musht go,
+      So no more I can't write you shoost now;
+    Gif mine luf to dose beeples ve know
+      Und take some for yourself, mine dear frau.
+
+                               Mine truly, Fritz.
+
+
+
+
+KATRINA REPLIES
+
+
+    Mine dear Fritz,--Vot to tink I don't know,
+      Ven dose hospital letters I get,
+    But mine tears dey vill run britty shlow,
+      Till I hear some tings different yet,
+    Ven you're sick like you tries to make oudt,
+      Vot you vant mit some shmeircase to eat,
+    Und pork sausages, coffee and kraut
+      Und limburger und pickled pig's feet?
+
+    I shoost tink you contented might shtay,
+      Till de var is all ofer und done,
+    Mit some custards und jells like you say,
+      Dat is better dan facing de gun.
+    Ve get nefer such goot tings like dese
+      Here at home in de old Faderland,
+    For dose English shut up all de seas
+      Ven to shtarve us goot Shermans dey planned.
+
+    Ven de men und de poys vent avay
+      For to fight for de goot Faderland,
+    Den de vomans must vork all de day
+      Mit a piece of plack bread in deir hand.
+    Dere's no meat now, nor butter at all,
+      Shoost de tings ve can grow in de ground;
+    Und already I'm getting so shmall,
+      Dat mine dress vill go twice times around.
+
+    All dat cash in de bank dat ve haf,
+      Ven de Kaiser's men need it, dey said,
+    If dey takes efry cent dat ve save,
+      Schraps of baper dey gifs us instead.
+    But I fool dose chaps vonce, britty soon,
+      For I put all de gold in a sack,
+    Mit your vatch, und mine brooches und shpoon
+      In de garden I bury dem back.
+
+                            Yours yet, Katrina.
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ LEARNS ABOUT CANADA
+
+
+    Vot's de use for some beeples to blow,
+      Und to make some beeg fools mit demselves
+    Ven already de tings dey don't know
+      Vould soon fill all de books on de shelves?
+    Ven I'm oudt in de hospital yard,
+      Und go unter de tree mit de rest,
+    Den I shmoke, und I blay some more card
+      Mit von chap from de Canada Vest.
+
+    Dis here feller, his name is Von Krink,
+      Und his fader from Shermany go,
+    He vill tell me some lies I don't tink,
+      From de blace vere dose maple leafs grow.
+    Dat beeg farm of his dad's is so vide
+      Dey musht drive all deir horses mit shteam,
+    Und it take dem, to plow down de side,
+      Von whole veek mit a buffalo team.
+
+    Und to cross dat beeg country, he say,
+      Dey go five or six days on de train;
+    Dey could shtick in von corner avay,
+      De whole Faderland, England und Spain.
+    Dey haf rivers more beeg as de Rhine,
+      Und some forests as vide as de sea,
+    Und dose veat fields, mit homesteads so fine,
+      Dey vill gif von for notting to me.
+
+    Vot's de use den ve fight, I don't know,
+      For von shmall shtrip of land py de sea,
+    For if dis feller tells me vot's so,
+      Den already beeg fools ve must pe.
+    Ven dis var vill get ofer, you bet,
+      So dat me und Katrina can go,
+    I vill get me von farm maype yet,
+      From de blace vere dose maple leafs grow.
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ CAN'T FURSHTAY
+
+
+    Seems like someting go wrong mit mine head
+      Since de day ven I make de beeg fight,
+    Und mine heart gets so heafy like lead
+      Ven I dries some more bieces to write.
+    Dot is vy I so seldom don't wrote
+      'Bout some tings dat vill happen to me
+    Since dose shells, vot you call? get mine goat,
+      Und I am only von left out of tree.
+
+    Dot Canadian feller, Von Krink,
+      Ven I say, "nix furshtay" to his talk,
+    He shoost tells me to take von more tink,
+      Or already he'll knock off mine plock.
+    Ven I tells him de tings dat he say
+      I can't find dem in mine leetle book,
+    Den he varn me to not get too gay
+      Britty soon or he'll gif me de hook.
+
+    Den he say dat de Kaiser's a chump,
+      Und his vorks dey vos shlipping a cog,
+    Und his crown vill get trowed in de dump,
+      For he put de whole vorld on de hog;
+    Dot us Shermans vos all off our base
+      Und already our goose vos cooked prown;
+    Britty soon ourselves home ve can chase,
+      Und den go avay back und sit down.
+
+    Vot he somedimes vould mean I don't know
+      Ven he gifs me dis foolishness talk,
+    If I ask him he say, "Shoost go slow,
+      Mine dear Fritz, ven you're oudt for a valk."
+    Dot is not like de English I shpoke,
+      Vot I learn in de books I haf read.
+    Den no vunder mine heart is near proke;
+      Und Von Krink says dere's veels in mine head.
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ IS LEARNING
+
+
+    Vile I vait in his hospital yard
+      For dose holes in mine back to fill up,
+    Den mine brain it vould vork pritty hard,
+      Like von vagon dat climbs de hill up.
+    Vill dis var soon get done, I don't know,
+      So some more mine Katrina vill shmile,
+    Vonce we tought ve vould vin long ago
+      But ve're learning some tings, all de vile.
+
+    Dere seems millions of men mit de gun,
+      Shoost like ants shwarming oudt of de hill.
+    From all ofer dis vorld dey haf run
+      Us goot Shermans already to kill.
+    Ve believed dat dem French vas no goot,
+      Shonnie Bull ve vould shtarve in his isle,
+    Ve vould sink all his ships dat pring foodt,
+      But ve're learning some tings all de vile.
+
+    It will not pe so easy, I tink,
+      Shonnie Bull to put down on de floor,
+    For venefer his ships ve vill sink,
+      Pritty soon he vas puilding some more,
+    Dose beeg zepps, und dose unterseeboots
+      Dat ve make mit de latest new shtyle;
+    If dey don't always hit vot dey shoots,
+      Ve must learn some more tings all de vile.
+
+    Ven already ve dakes von shmall town,
+      Den ve lose him a couple of dimes,
+    Shoost so soon von beeg hill ve goes down,
+      Dere's anoder von up dat ve climbs.
+    Some goot Shermans vos lifing to-day,
+      In dose drenches for five hundred mile,
+    Ven dose English und French vill get gay
+      Den ve show dem some tings, all de vile.
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ HEARS FROM THE KAISER
+
+
+    Yaw, de Kaiser he write me von day,
+      Shoost so soon he find oudt he get shtuck;
+    First his letters dey come mit de dray,
+      Now de're filling von beeg motor truck,
+    Soon, already, I dells him vot's drue,
+      Dat some tings don't look goot in dis fight,
+    Den der Kaiser he feel britty plue,
+      Und like dis vay to me he vill write.
+
+    "Mine dear Fritz,--Since Von Tirp has gone oudt,
+      Dere's no von around here I can trust,
+    So I vant you to dell me, old scoudt,
+      Vill it pe de vorld power, or bust?
+    Ven ve licked de Russ, English und French,
+      Den de Dago und Portugee came,
+    Seems de deeper ve dig in de trench
+      De more fellers get into de game.
+
+    Mine beeg armies dey soon melt avay,
+      Like von shnow pank goes down mit de sun,
+    Ve keep losing more men efry day,
+      Und dose bapers say, "notting vas done,"
+    Dose new zeppelin ships vas a fake,
+      Shoost de fraus und de kiddies dey get,
+    Und de unterseebootens ve make,
+      Like de fish dey get caught mit de net.
+
+    Soon our foes take de skin mit de fleece,
+      So I vant you to hear vot dey say:
+    If deir talk seems to listen like peace,
+      Den you send me de vord right avay.
+    Yaw, mine Fritz, you must dell me some tings,
+      Shoost so soon you get on to deir track,
+    Und de feller mine letter dat prings,
+      Vill already your answer dake back."
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ ADVISES THE KAISER
+
+
+    Mine dear Kaiser,--I'm telling you straight,
+      Dat ve nefer can vin dis beeg fight,
+    Dough de Faderland armies vas great,
+      Dere is udders dat's greater, all right,
+    Shoost you make de goot beace britty soon,
+      Right avay, or you notting haf got;
+    Ven you sups mit de teufel, de spoon
+      Vill already, somedimes get too hot.
+
+    Shoost cut oudt dat beeg strafe dat you make,
+      Ven you can't mit dose Englishmans pull,
+    Und you say it vas all a mistake,
+      For you lufs your dear cousin, John Bull.
+    Den you cheat dose fool English some more,
+      Like for forty long years ve haf done:
+    Dey'll forget den dose treaties ve tore,
+      Und no more vill dey call us de Hun.
+
+    You can fix tings quite easy mit France,
+      Shoost you gif up de Alsace-Loraine,
+    Den venefer ve see de goot chance
+      Ve vill march in and take dem again;
+    Den dere's Russia and Serbia too,
+      Vill vant pay for de men dat ve kill;
+    Now I tells you de ting dat you do
+      You say Austria vill settle deir bill.
+
+    Dere's no trouble vill come from de Yanks,
+      Since ve mix dem in Mexico up;
+    Ven a feller get bit vonce, no tanks!
+      He von't fool any more mit de pup;
+    For de Belgians some tings must be done;
+      So shoost bromise de monies to pay,
+    Till ve get back dose blace in de sun,
+      Den ve vink, und ve say, "nix furshtay."
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ ADMITS IGNORANCE
+
+
+    Dis old vorld is von uncertain blace,
+      Dere is so many tings ve don't know,
+    Ven ve shtart oudt to travel de pace,
+      Ve can't tell shoost how far ve vill go,
+    Ve don't know, from de vay a man valks,
+      How mooch money dat feller may get,
+    Und dose chaps mit de very smooth talks
+      May haf schemes in deir heads maype yet.
+
+    Ven some leetle birds shtand on a shtump,
+      Ve don't know yet de first von to fly;
+    Ve can't tell, from de paint on de pump,
+      Shoost how soon de old vell vill run dry;
+    Ve don't know vy de grass is so green,
+      Nor vy all plue roses grow red,
+    How de pod get ouside of de bean,
+      Und de cabbages get de shwelled head.
+
+    Ve don't know, ven de veather is dry,
+      Britty soon if ve get some more rains,
+    Vy dere's many a goot-looking guy
+      In his head dat don't haf any brains;
+    Vy de plack card vill alvays come thrump,
+      Ven a handful of red vons ve hold,
+    Nor how far can von leedle flea yump
+      Nor vy mud-turtles nefer get old.
+
+    In dose car, ven ve go for a ride,
+      Ve can't tell ven dere's someting vill bust,
+    Und ourselves ve so often haf lied,
+      Ve don't know any feller to trust;
+    Ve can't tell yet de end of dis schrap,
+      Ve may get, ven de fighting is done,
+    Some varm country, not marked on de map
+      Dat's more hot dan a blace in de sun.
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ ON THE ENGLISH
+
+
+    Ven I fights mit dose Englishmans yet,
+      Dere vas tings vy I nefer can't see,
+    Und, dis time I'm certain, you bet!
+      Either dey must pe crazy or me.
+    Dey vill bay von beeg price for a king,
+      But as soon as he put on his crown,
+    Und vould try to pe doing some ting,
+      Dey say,--"Go avay pack und sit down."
+
+    Ven dey get all dose blace in de sun,
+      Und de blaces vere grows de beeg trees,
+    Ven already de hard vork is done,
+      Den John Bull say,--"Shoost go as you blease."
+    If in Dublin a feller rebels,
+      Britty soon on a rope he vill shwing,
+    But go free, so mine newsbaper tells,
+      If in Ulster he do de same ting.
+
+    Johnnie Bull prings his pread und his meat
+      From de ends of de vorld far avay,
+    Vile de lands vere he ought to grow veat,
+      Dem's de blaces de pheasants will shtay,
+    Ven he say dat he nefer vill fight,
+      But vill shtick mit his vork und his blay
+    Dat vas lies he vas telling all right,
+      For he fight like de teufel to-day.
+
+    Und dose beeples dat nefer had vorked,
+      All dose soft-handed ladies und shwells,
+    Und de fellers dat always had shirked,
+      Haf got busy now making de shells.
+    If ve're brisoners, vounded or sick,
+      Shoost so soon ve fall into deir hand,
+    Den dey doctor und feed us oop shlick;
+      Dese are tings dat I can't understand.
+
+
+
+
+WHEN WILL IT END
+
+November, 1916
+
+Von Krink tells Fritz when the War will end.
+
+
+    Ven you tinks dis beeg var vill get done?
+      (Dat's de ting you hear efryone say.)
+    Britty soon vill dey lay down de gun,
+      So I home mit Katrina can shtay?
+    Vell, I tells you mine friends, vot I tink,
+      Dat de Kaiser don't know, nor de Czar,
+    So I shpeak mit dat feller, Von Krink,
+      Shoost how soon ve can settle dis var.
+
+    "Ve vill not shtop de fight," said Von Krink
+      "Till de Kaiser climbs down from his throne
+    All dot Wilhelmstrasse bunch, I don't tink,
+      Haf deir backs mitout moss ofergrown.
+    Ve vill take back de Heligoland,
+      Und dose Krupp vorks to bieces vill shmash,
+    Ve vill shpoil all dose profits so grand,
+      Und Miss Bertha can cook her own hash."
+
+    "Und dose blaces vay out in de sun,
+      Vere de Kaiser such goot money shpends,
+    John Bull vill shoost tink it fine fun
+      To divide dem around mit his friends,
+    Ve vill take all de Kaiser's beeg ships,
+      Ve vill make free de Kiel canal
+    Und de Shermans must pass oudt de chips
+      Ven dey lose de beeg jack-pot next fall.
+
+    "Den berhaps if dey're getting too gay,
+      Ve vill bang dem a couple of times;
+    Dat already might be de best way,
+      For to settle dose submarine crimes.
+    Ven ve get all dose leetle chores done,
+      Und some more ve can't tink about yet,
+    Ve vill hang up de sword und de gun.
+      But not von minute sooner, you bet!"
+
+
+
+
+THE KAISER AGAIN CONSULTS FRITZ
+
+
+    Mine dear Fritz,--Your advice ven I take,
+      Und I try dot goot beace talk to shtart,
+    Den dose fellers all call it a fake,
+      For dey say it don't come from mine heart;
+    Vat's de ting to do next, I don't know,
+      Mit dose bull-headed English und French,
+    Dey shoost tink dey're de whole of de show
+      Since they pounded us oudt of some trench.
+
+    Dey are licking us now britty fast,
+      Like I nefer could tink dey vill do,
+    Mit beeg guns dey now haf us out-classed,
+      Und mit airships und teufel tanks too.
+    Ve must all de hard hammering take
+      For dose Bulgars und Turks vas no goot,
+    Seems like now von beeg blunder ve make
+      Und de game ve haf not undershtoodt.
+
+    Ven ve tink ve vill get some more oil,
+      Und de oats, und potatoes, and meat,
+    All dose tings de Roumanians shpoil
+      Shoost so soon as ve make dem redreat;
+    Und mine shlack brudder, Tino of Greece,
+      He gets batted all ofer der ground,
+    Ven he shtrikes he goes oudt on first base,
+      Und makes nefer de run all around.
+
+    Britty soon, Fritz, ve someting must do,
+      Or already ve all vill be killed,
+    For dose English haf put on de screw
+      Und our stomachs are nefer half filled.
+    Vat you tink of dis plan, mine dear Fritz,
+      In mine head dat already I get,
+    Dat I take back again Von Tirpitz,
+      Und Herr Teufel in partnership yet?
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ WARNS THE KAISER
+
+
+    Mine dear Kaiser,--Dose tings vas a fake,
+      Ven you shtart oop dat untersea show
+    Und already a pardnership make
+      Mit Von Tirpitz, Von Teufel and Co.
+    Ven de try dis same game vonce pefore,
+      Soon ve lose all dose subs dat ve had,
+    Und dis time ve vill lose dem some more,
+      For now even dose Yanks haf got mad.
+
+    Some advice I vould give to you yet,
+      (It vill shoost take a minute or two,)
+    Call dose subs all in oudt of de vet,
+      Dat's already de best ting to do.
+    You may tink dat old Fritz is a fool,
+      Und haf maype some axes to grind,
+    But dose tings dat he learned oudt of school,
+      Dey vill pring de improvement of mind.
+
+    Since dat day I vas brisoner took,
+      Und I hafn't got notting to do,
+    Den I read all dose bapers und book,
+      Und write maybe a letter or two,
+    Dere's some tings I already find oudt
+      Dat de Faderland bapers von't tell,
+    How dose English, like leetle Hans Shtout,
+      Haf de pussy cat pulled from de vell.
+
+    All dose English must half deir own vay,
+      Und so soon as deir foes dey vill shmash,
+    Like Napoleon dey ship dem avay
+      Or like Thebaw or Arabi Pash;
+    So I tells you, mine Kaiser, bevare,
+      Or you gets yourself soon in a fix,
+    Saint Helena's old rock is still dere
+      For de feller dat loses de tricks.
+
+
+
+
+FRITZ GOES FARMING
+
+May, 1918
+
+
+    Mine Katrina,--So long since I write,
+      You vill tink I am dead maybe yet;
+    If I never come back from dis fight,
+      Den some udder old feller you get.
+    Vell I tells you de reason, mine frau,
+      Vy already mine letters vill shtop,
+    Ven John Bull soon finds oudt I can plow
+      Den he vant me to put in de crop.
+
+    In de vorld if dere's not enough veat,
+      For to make all de beeples some pread,
+    Den de poor vill get notting to eat,
+      Und dey all vill go britty soon dead,
+    So John Bull some potatoes vill sow,
+      Vere dose rabbits und pheasants haf stayed,
+    Und de veat, oats und barley vill grow
+      Vere de tennis und cricket vas blayed.
+
+    To pe oudt on de land it seems good,
+      Vere dose onions and cabbages grow,
+    Vere de pigs fall ashleep in de mud
+      Und de ducks in de vater vill go;
+    But I vork so hard now efry day,
+      Und I gets so beeg tired py night,
+    To dose friends dat I luf far avay
+      Den I hafn't no courage to write.
+
+    I shoost vork, und I shleep, und I eat,
+      So I hafn't much news for to send;
+    You vould hear of de Sherman redreat,
+      Vell I hopes dis beeg var vill soon end.
+    All mine troubles I hardly can't bear,
+      How is tings in de Faderland now?
+    If ve lose yet, or vin, I don't care,
+      So I only get back to mine frau.
+
+                                    Yours ever.
+                                           Fritz.
+
+
+
+
+INDEX TO WAR RHYMES
+
+
+  Foreword                              Page
+
+  Modern Diplomacy                         5
+
+  The Allied Forces                        6
+
+  The Modern Good Samaritan                8
+
+  Satan's Soliloquy                        9
+
+  The Canadian Way                        10
+
+  The English Woman's Complaint           11
+
+  Unemployed                              12
+
+  The Hate of Hans                        13
+
+  Hans Begins to Wonder                   14
+
+
+=Recruiting Appeals=
+
+  Jack Canuck                             18
+
+  What Owest Thou?                        19
+
+  A Call to the Colors                    20
+
+  Choose Ye                               21
+
+  The Slacker's Son                       22
+
+  Blasted Hopes                           23
+
+  Langemark                               24
+
+  The Canadian Army                       25
+
+  Fight or Pay                            26
+
+
+=Rhymes for Children=
+
+  Hunting the Were-Wolf                   30
+
+  Johnnie's Grouch                        31
+
+  The Trench that Fritz Built             32
+
+
+=Nursery Rhymes--Up-to-Date=
+
+  Ten Little Slackers                     34
+
+  Jingles                                 35
+
+
+=Miscellaneous=
+
+  Bedlam                                  38
+
+  The Certainties                         39
+
+  The Friendly Spies                      40
+
+  Jack Canuck to Uncle Sam                41
+
+  Sammy                                   42
+
+  France to Columbia                      43
+
+  Jim's Sacrifice                         44
+
+  The Orgy of Thor                        45
+
+  Motes and Beams                         46
+
+  Nurse Cavell                            47
+
+  'Twas Ever Thus                         48
+
+  Ego                                     49
+
+  Freedom                                 50
+
+  Twenty Years After                      50
+
+  Faith                                   51
+
+  Everybody Helping                       52
+
+  The World's Overdraft                   53
+
+  Slackers                                54
+
+  The Loyal Blacks                        55
+
+  The Troubles of Tino                    56
+
+  Has the World Gone Mad?                 57
+
+  The Trees                               57
+
+  Who Knows                               58
+
+  Afterwards                              59
+
+  German Securities Fall                  60
+
+  Trouble in the Trenches                 61
+
+  The Worshippers                         62
+
+  To Jean Baptiste                        63
+
+  The Lost Tribes                         63
+
+  Reliability                             65
+
+  The McLeans                             65
+
+  Farmer John Speaks                      66
+
+  When the Game Isn't Fair                67
+
+  Heinies' Holler                         68
+
+  What We Won                             69
+
+  The Home Coming                         69
+
+
+=The Opinions of Fritz=
+
+  Fritz Finds Fault                       72
+
+  Fritz Has Another Grouch                73
+
+  The Kaiser Consults Fritz               74
+
+  Fritz in the Hospital                   75
+
+  Fritz Philosophizes                     76
+
+  Fritz Writes to His Frau                77
+
+  Katrina's Reply                         78
+
+  Fritz Writes Again                      79
+
+  Katrina Replies                         80
+
+  Fritz Learns About Canada               81
+
+  Fritz Can't Furshtay                    82
+
+  Fritz Is Learning                       83
+
+  Fritz Hears from the Kaiser             84
+
+  Fritz Advises the Kaiser                85
+
+  Fritz Admits Ignorance                  86
+
+  Fritz on the English                    87
+
+  When Will It End                        88
+
+  The Kaiser Again Consults Fritz         89
+
+  Fritz Warns the Kaiser                  90
+
+  Fritz Goes Farming                      91
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+  "Wayfarer" is a pseudonym of Abner Cosens.
+
+  Left one instance of Alsace-Lorraine and one of Alsace-Loraine
+  Left one instance of out-classed and one of outclassed
+  Left one instance of saur-kraut and four of saurkraut
+  Page 7: Changed Isproud to Is Proud
+  Page 7: Changed belicose to bellicose
+  Page 12: Changed Englishamn to Englishman
+  Page 21: Changed infull to in full
+  Page 22: Changed Kaser to Kaiser
+  Page 25: Changed birth to birch
+  Page 26: Changed popluation to population
+  Page 32: Changed gun tha killed to gun that killed
+  Page 32: Changed killed he Hun to killed the Hun
+  Page 35: Added title JINGLES to match index
+  Page 39: Changed stanza 5 to the correct line ordering
+  Page 40: Changed silient to silent
+  Page 41: Changed your to you
+  Page 48: Changed Briitsh to British
+  Page 57: Changed parents to parent
+  Page 61: Changed Blathersi to Blatherski
+  Page 68: Changed shart to shtart
+  Page 73: Changed Vat's the us to Vot's the use
+  Page 73: Changed dont' to don't
+  Page 78: Changed under to und
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of War Rhymes, by Abner Cosens
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 04:55:30 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 04:55:30 -0700
commit	d39ddd1d23f0e626f7539a897e14bb4398a4b272 (patch)
tree	9e0cd28328915f29ec3c680108ee1e03245d67bb