'SNARLEYOW'

THIS 'appened in a battle to a batt'ry of the

corps

Which is first among the women an' amazin' first

in war;

An' what the bloomin' battle was I don't remem

ber now,

But Two's off-lead 'e answered to the name o'

Snarleyow.

Down in the Infantry, nobody cares;

Down in the Cavalry, Colonel 'e swears;

But down in the lead with the wheel at the

flog

Turns the bold Bombardier to a little

whipped dog!

They was movin' into action, they was needed

very sore,

To learn a little schoolin' to a native army corps,

They 'ad nipped against an uphill, they was tuckin' down the brow,

When a tricky, trundlin' roundshot give the knock to Snarleyow.

They cut 'im loose an' left 'im-'e was almost tore

in two

But he tried to follow after as a well-trained 'orse

should do;

'E went an' fouled the limber, an' the Driver's

Brother squeals:

'Pull up, pull up for Snarleyow-'is 'ead's between 'is 'eels!'

The Driver 'umped 'is shoulder, for the wheels was goin' round,

An' there ain't no 'Stop, conductor!' when a

batt'ry's changin' ground;

Sez 'e: 'I broke the beggar in, an' very sad I feels, 'But I couldn't pull up, not for you—your 'ead between your 'eels!'

'E 'adn't 'ardly spoke the word, before a droppin' shell

A little right the batt'ry an' between the sections

fell;

An' when the smoke 'ad cleared away, before the limber wheels,

There lay the Driver's Brother with 'is 'ead between 'is 'eels.

Then sez the Driver's Brother, an' 'is words was very plain,

'For Gawd's own sake get over me, an' put me out o' pain.'

They saw 'is wounds was mortial, an' they judged that it was best,

So they took an' drove the limber straight across 'is back an' chest.

The Driver'egave nothin' 'cept a little coughin' grunt, But 'e swung 'is 'orses 'andsome when it came to 'Action Front!'

An' if one wheel was juicy, you may lay your Monday head

'Twas juicier for the niggers when the case begun to spread.

The moril of this story, it is plainly to be seen: You 'avn't got no families when servin' of the Queen

You 'avn't got no brothers, fathers, sisters, wives,

or sons

If you want to win your battles take an' work your bloomin' guns!

Down in the Infantry, nobody cares;
Down in the Cavalry, Colonel 'e swears;
But down in the lead with the wheel at the flog
Turns the bold Bombardier to a little

whipped dog!

THE WIDOW AT WINDSOR

'AVE you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor
With a hairy gold crown on 'er 'ead?
She'as ships on the foam-she 'as millions at 'ome,
An' she pays us poor beggars in red.

(Ow, poor beggars in red!)

There's 'er nick on the cavalry 'orses,

There's 'er mark on the medical stores— An' 'er troopers you'll find with a fair wind be'ind That takes us to various wars.

(Poor beggars!-barbarious wars!)

Then 'ere's to the Widow at Windsor,

An' 'ere's to the stores an' the guns,

The men an' the 'orses what makes up

the forces

O' Missis Victorier's sons.

(Poor beggars! Victorier's sons!)