The Malabar's in 'arbour with the Jumner at 'er tail, An' the time-expired's waitin' of 'is orders for to sail. Ho! the weary waitin' when on Khyber 'ills we lay, But the time-expired's waitin' of 'is orders 'ome to-day.

They'll turn us out at Portsmouth wharf in cold an' wet an' rain,

All wearin' Injian cotton kit, but we will not com

plain;

They'll kill us of pneumonia-for that's their little

way

But damn the chills and fever, men, we're goin' 'ome to-day!

Troopin', troopin', winter's round again!

See the new draf's pourin' in for the old campaign; Ho, you poor recruities, but you've got to earn your

pay

What's the last from Lunnon, lads? We're goin' there to-day.

Troopin', troopin', give another cheer

'Ere's to English women an' a quart of English beer;

The Colonel an' the regiment an' all who've got to

stay,

Gawd's mercy strike 'em gentle-Whoop! we're

goin' 'ome to-day.

We're goin' 'ome, we're goin' 'ome,
Our ship is at the shore,

An' you must pack your 'aversack,

For we won't come back no more.

Ho, don't you grieve for me,

My lovely Mary-Ann,

For I'll marry you yit on a fourp'ny bit
As a time-expired man.

THE WIDOW'S PARTY

'WHERE have

you

been this while away,

Johnnie, Johnnie?'

Out with the rest on a picnic lay,

Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha!

They called us out of the barrack-yard

To Gawd knows where from Gosport Hard,
And you can't refuse when you get the card,
And the Widow gives the party.

(Bugle.) Ta-rara—ra-ra-rara!

'What did you get to eat and drink,

Johnnie, Johnnie?'

Standing water as thick as ink,

Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha!

A bit o' beef that were three year stored,

A bit o' mutton as tough as a board,

And a fowl we killed with a sergeant's sword,

When the Widow give the party.

Copyright, 1892, by Macmillan & Co. 197

'What did you do for knives and forks,

Johnnie, Johnnie?'

We carries 'em with us wherever we walks,

Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha!

And some was sliced and some was halved,
And some was crimped and some was carved,
And some was gutted and some was starved,
When the Widow give the party.

'What ha' you done with half your mess, Johnnie, Johnnie?'

They couldn't do more and they wouldn't do less,
Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha!

They ate their whack and they drank their fill,
And I think the rations has made them ill,

For half my comp'ny's lying still

Where the Widow give the party.

'How did you get away—away,

Johnnie, Johnnie?'

On the broad o' my back at the end o' the day, Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha!

I comed away like a bleedin' toff,

For I got four niggers to carry me off,
As I lay in the bight of a canvas trough,

When the Widow give the party.

'What was the end of all the show,

Johnnie, Johnnie?'

Ask my Colonel, for I don't know,

Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha!

We broke a King and we built a road—

A court-house stands where the reg❜ment goed. And the river's clean where the raw blood flowed

When the Widow give the party.

(Bugle.) Ta-rara-ra-ra-rara!