قراءة كتاب Our Little Brown House, A Poem of West Point Written for the New Year's Festival at the Cadets' Sabbath-school of the Methodist Episcopal Church, January 1, 1879
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
اللغة: English
Our Little Brown House, A Poem of West Point Written for the New Year's Festival at the Cadets' Sabbath-school of the Methodist Episcopal Church, January 1, 1879
الصفحة رقم: 5
"fish-horn"
Eighteen hundred and eighty was born;
This fine little fellow was ushered in
With rocket's roar and fish-horn's din.
What means this noise and running around,
Looking for something that's not to be found?
For every door was relieved of its handle
By some friend, of course, surely not by a vandal,
Looking for something that's not to be found?
For every door was relieved of its handle
By some friend, of course, surely not by a vandal,
To keep intruders who were stalking around
From wakening the boys who were sleeping so sound,
Dreaming of fish-horns and other such things
That Santa Claus always to the children brings.
From wakening the boys who were sleeping so sound,
Dreaming of fish-horns and other such things
That Santa Claus always to the children brings.
THE COLOR GUARD.
(By Cadet Cameron, Class of '83.)
Just at this moment came a loud crash—
A window is broken in with a smash,
And a voice calls out, "Bring me an axe!"
And on his near neighbor he levied the tax.
A window is broken in with a smash,
And a voice calls out, "Bring me an axe!"
And on his near neighbor he levied the tax.
I'll let him see, thought the neighbor, who'll lift the latch,
As he handed him out the innocent match;
The reason was this, St. Nick had been busy an hour or more,
And that was the reason he'd fastened the door.
As he handed him out the innocent match;
The reason was this, St. Nick had been busy an hour or more,
And that was the reason he'd fastened the door.
'Tis the midnight hour; the Long Roll has beat,
And brought every boy in a jiff to his feet,
In the area of the Barracks, on the cold, damp ground,
And not a delinquent is to be found,
And brought every boy in a jiff to his feet,
In the area of the Barracks, on the cold, damp ground,
And not a delinquent is to be found,
Except the little fellow who was locked in his room
By some naughty boy, and of course could not come.
From the hall-ways came running, all loose to be sure,
Every boy, in a hurry his place to secure,
By some naughty boy, and of course could not come.
From the hall-ways came running, all loose to be sure,
Every boy, in a hurry his place to secure,
And there on the cold ground, in the night air to stand,
While the searchers were looking for things contraband.
In a room two Rockets were picked up by a scout,
That Santa Claus dropped as he made his way out.
While the searchers were looking for things contraband.
In a room two Rockets were picked up by a scout,
That Santa Claus dropped as he made his way out.
While up in the cockloft, so cosy and snug,
Lay the old brass cannon, like a "bug in a rug,"
Where Santa Claus left it to be raised up higher,
And then, after all, the old thing hung fire.
Lay the old brass cannon, like a "bug in a rug,"
Where Santa Claus left it to be raised up higher,
And then, after all, the old thing hung fire.
What can be the matter? what's all this about?
That every boy from his bed is turned out
In the night air to shiver and freeze,
With nought on his feet but his old Reveilles?
That every boy from his bed is turned out
In the night air to shiver and freeze,
With nought on his feet but his old Reveilles?
There to wait for a long half hour
Still as the bell in the old clock tower;
The scouts and the searchers have all done their best,
And the boys are allowed to
Still as the bell in the old clock tower;
The scouts and the searchers have all done their best,
And the boys are allowed to
