'n'
nervous, but, you bet,
Playin' lovely 'ands of poker with his busy
bay-o-net,
'Fraid of givin' 'n' of takin', 'fraid of gases,
'fraid of guns--
But a champion lightweight terror to the gor-
forsaken 'Uns!

BILLJIM

DOWN to it is Plugger Bill,
Lyin' crumpled, white 'n' still.
Me 'n' him
Chips in when the scrap begins,
Carin' nothin' for our skins,
Chi-iked as the 'Eavenly Twins-
Bill 'n' Jim.

They 'ave outed Bill at last,
Slugged me cobber hard 'n' fast.
It's a kill.
See the purple of his lip
'N' the red 'n' oozy drip!
Ends our great ole partnership-
Jim 'n' Bill

Mates we was when we was kids;
Camp, 'n' ship, 'n' Pyramids,
Him 'n' me
Hung together, 'n' we tore
Up the heights from Helles shore,
Bill a long 'arf head afore,
Fine to see!

Then it was we took a touch-
Simple puncture, nothin' much;
But we lay
'N' we stays the count, it seems,
In a sorter realm of dreams
Where the sun infernal gleams
Night 'n' day;

Boilin', fryin' achin', dumb,
Waitin' till the stretchers come,
Patiently.
I hangs on to 'arf a cup.
Which I wants ole Bill to sup.
Damn if he ain't savin' up
His for me!

When they come to lift my head
I am softly kiddin' dead,
For a game,
So's they'll first take on his gills.
Over, though, me scheme he spills-
Bli'me, this ole take-down Bill's
Done the same!

But he isn't kiddin' now,
And it knocks me anyhow
Seein' him.
We was both agreed before,
Though it got 'em by the score,
Two was goin' to beat this war-
But 'n' Jim.

Mate o' mine, yiv stayed it through.
Hard luck, Bill-for me 'n' you
Hard 'n' grim.
They have got me Cobber true,
But I'm stickin' tight ez glue....
Bill, there's one who'll plug for two-
It is Jim!

THE CRUSADERS.

WHAT price yer humble, Dicko Smith,
in gaudy putties girt,
With sand-blight in his optics, and much
leaner than he started,
Round the 'Oly Land cavorting in three-
quarters of a shirt,
And imposin' on the natives ez one Dick
the Lion 'Earted?

We are drivin' out the infidel, we're hittin'
up the Turk,
Same ez Richard slung his right across the
Saracen invader
In old days of which I'm readin'. Now
we're gettin' in our work,
'N' what price me nibs, I ask yeh, ez a
qualified Crusader!

'Ere I am, a thirsty Templar in the fields of
Palestine,
Where that hefty little fighter, Bob