SAID England unto Pharaoh, " I must make a man of you,

That will stand upon his feet and play the game;
That will Maxim his oppressor as a Christian ought to do,"
And she sent old Pharaoh Sergeant Whatisname.

It was not a Duke nor Earl, nor yet a Viscount
It was not a big brass General that came;

But a man in khaki kit who could handle men a bit,
With his bedding labelled Sergeant Whatisname.

Said England unto Pharaoh, "Though at present singing small,

You shall hum a proper tune before it ends,"

And she introduced old Pharaoh to the Sergeant once for all, And left 'em in the desert making friends.

It was not a Crystal Palace nor Cathedral;

It was not a public-house of common fame;

But a piece of red-hot sand, with a palm on either hand,
And a little hut for Sergeant Whatisname.

Said England unto Pharaoh, " You 've had miracles before, When Aaron struck your rivers into blood;

But if you watch the Sergeant he can show you something

more,

He's a charm for making riflemen from mud."

It was neither Hindustani, French, nor Coptics;

It was odds and ends and leavings of the same, Translated by a stick (which is really half the trick), And Pharaoh harked to Sergeant Whatisname.

(There were years that no one talked of; there were times of horrid doubt

There was faith and hope and whacking and despairWhile the Sergeant gave the Cautions and he combed old Pharaoh out,

And England did n't seem to know nor care.

That is England's awful way o' doing business

She would serve her God or Gordon just the same For she thinks her Empire still is the Strand and Holborn Hill,

And she did n't think of Sergeant Whatisname.)

Said England to the Sergeant," You can let my people go!"
(England used 'em cheap and nasty from the start),
And they entered 'em in battle on a most astonished foe
But the Sergeant he had hardened Pharaoh's heart.
Which was broke, along of all the plagues of Egypt,
Three thousand years before the Sergeant came
And he mended it again in a little more than ten,

Till Pharaoh fought like Sergeant Whatisname!

It was wicked bad campaigning (cheap and nasty from the first),

There was heat and dust and coolie-work and sun, There were vipers, flies, and sandstorms, there was cholera and thirst,

But Pharaoh done the best he ever done.

Down the desert, down the railway, down the river,
Like Israelites from bondage so he came,

"Tween the clouds o' dust and fire to the land of his desire,
And his Moses, it was Sergeant Whatisname!

We are eating dirt in handfuls for to save our daily bread,
Which we have to buy from those that hate us most,
And we must not raise the money where the Sergeant raised
the dead,

And it's wrong and bad and dangerous to boast.

But he did it on the cheap and on the quiet,

And he's not allowed to forward any claim --Though he drilled a black man white, though he made a mummy fight,

He will still continue Sergeant Whatisname

Private, Corporal, Colour-Sergeant, and Instructor --
But the everlasting miracle's the same!

KITCHENER'S SCHOOL

1898

Being a translation of the song that was made by a Mohammedan schoolmaster of Bengal Infantry (some time on service at Suakim) when he heard that Kitchener was taking money from the English to build a Madrissa for Hubshees or a college for the Sudanese, 1898.

Он
OH Hubshee, carry your shoes in your hand and bow your

head on your breast!

This is the message of Kitchener who did not break you in jest. It was permitted to him to fulfil the long-appointed years; Reaching the end ordained of old over your dead Emirs.

He stamped only before your walls, and the Tomb ye knew was dust:

He gathered up under his armpits all the swords of your

trust:

He set a guard on your granaries, securing the weak from

the strong:

He said: "Go work the waterwheels that were abolished so long."

He said: "Go safely, being abased. I have accomplished my vow."

That was the mercy of Kitchener. Cometh his madness now!
He does not desire as ye desire, nor devise as ye devise:
He is preparing a second host an army to make you wise.

Not at the mouth of his clean-lipped guns shall ye learn his name again,

But letter by letter, from Kaf to Kaf, at the mouth of his

chosen men.

He has gone back to his own city, not seeking presents or bribes,

But openly asking the English for money to buy you Hakims and scribes.

Knowing that ye are forfeit by battle and have no right to live,

He begs for money to bring you learning and all the Eng

lish give.

It is their treasure it is their pleasure

hearts inclined:

thus are their

For Allah created the English mad-the maddest of all

mankind!

They do not consider the Meaning of Things; they consult not creed nor clan.

Behold, they clap the slave on the back, and behold, he ariseth a man!

They terribly carpet the earth with dead, and before their cannon cool,

They walk unarmed by twos and threes to call the living to school.

How is this reason (which is their reason) to judge a scholar's worth,

By casting a ball at three straight sticks and defending the same with a fourth?

But this they do (which is doubtless a spell) and other matters more strange,

Until, by the operation of years, the hearts of their scholars change:

Till these make come and go great boats or engines upon the

rail

(But always the English watch near by to prop them when they fail);

Till these make laws of their own choice and Judges of their

own blood;

And all the mad English obey the Judges and say that the Law is good.

Certainly they were mad from of old: but I think one new thing,

That the magic whereby they work their magic - wherefrom their fortunes spring

May be that they show all peoples their magic and ask no price in return.

Wherefore, since ye are bond to that magic, O Hubshee, make haste and learn!

If he who broke you be minded to teach you, to his Madrissa

go!

Go, and carry your shoes in your hand and bow your head on your breast,

For he who did not slay you in sport, he will not teach you in jest.

BRIDGE-GUARD IN THE KARROO

1901

"and will supply details to guard the Blood River Bridge.” District Orders-Lines of Communication. South African War.

SUDDEN the desert changes,

The raw glare softens and clings,
Till the aching Oudtshoorn ranges
Stand up like the thrones of kings-