the one-armed man
Papering—the one that had the hives!
Bob would eat the lunches—eat and come again,
Silent, but as hungry as a pup;
Finish with a piece o' pie, swallow it—and go;
Never had to make him hurry up!

Then one night we heard him talking to the girl,
Like he was complaining to her: "Say!
Can't you change the stuffing? I am sick of ham!
Have a heart! I'd just as lief eat hay!"
Did we all jump on him? You can bet we did:
"Who gave you the right to kick, you steer,
Over what she brings us? She's a first-rate pal;
Talk some more and get her on her ear!"

Bob was somewhat flustered; thought we hadn't heard.
Then he said, "Well, ain't you tired o' ham?"
"What of that?" says Wilcox. "Think of how she works!
Spends her cash...!" (All Bob said then was, "Damn!")
Grabbing up his Springfield, "Listen, you!" he snaps.
"That's my motor and my gasoline.
Sure she's spending money—but it comes from me;
She's my sister, and her name's Irene!"

Then, as he marched himself into the night,
We looked at each other a spell.
"We've ditched our good luck—he won't let her come back,"
Says Wilcox. "Now isn't that hell!"

BUGLER BILL

Bugler Bill—mild-mannered, shy—
Is straight.... But I wonder if Bill would lie?

Bugler Bill come "out of the Draft"—
D'you s'pose at that joke he actually laughed?

HEINIE THE HOSTLER

He's not very handsome or clever,
He's slow in his wits—and he's fat,
And yet he's a soldier of Uncle Sam's—
Now, whaddy you know about that?

Perhaps he won't get a commission;
Perhaps he is dull, and all that;
But somehow I feel that he's better than me—
Now whaddy you know about that?

OUR JOB

You mustn't hate the enemy—that wastes a lot of "pep"—
The Colonel passed the word around the training camp to-day.
The Captain says with modern war we gotta all catch step;
"Cut out the rough-necked rage and talk, and don't you think or say:

"'Pirates, rapists, murderers; poisoners and lying thieves;
Super-vandals, run amuck—black devils quoting sermons;
This world was mostly Heaven-made, our Chaplain, he believes;
But Hell itself conceived and spawned the Military Germans!

"The enemy is good at killing kids, and old folks, too;
Torpedoing hospital ships and blowin' up our plants;
But cogitatin' on their line of wicked things won't do;
We'll never hate 'em off the map—just give the guns a chance!"

So we don't go in for loathin', and with anger we don't burn;
We're drillin', and we're diggin', and we're workin' all the while;
To put 'er in the target is the trick we hafter learn—
And ev'ry man's a better shot when he can shoot—and smile!

The folks at home will spend their time a-broodin' over all
The nasty devils do and on the details they can dwell;
It's up to us to learn this game, and then—when comes the call—
Pump lead into the enemy—and send him back to hell.

HER JOHNNY

Since Johnny has joined the Marine corps,
Of course he will do what he's told,
And Johnny will be at home on the sea
The day he is eighteen years old.
Just what they expect of my baby
Ain't clear to his maw; my, oh, my!
But Johnny's a-wearin' the blue—and ain't carin'—
He's gone! Is it wrong if I cry?

It ain't been so long, I remember,
That Johnny, my baby, was sick
Whenever he'd get on a boat, and he'd fret
Till we'd land—which was usually quick.
But now, with his gun and his kit-bag,
He's answered the call, bless his heart!
And he'll square out his jaw and think of his maw
And go in to win from the start!

My Johnny's not fightin' for pleasure
(I know he'll be sea-sick, pore kid!)
But he said, "If I stayed, they'd call me afraid;
I gotta sign up"—and he did.
So now I sit here, sorter dreamin'
Of the days he was mine. They are done—
I'm proud; but I wish—I could fix