PRELUDE (To Departmental Ditties) I have eaten your bread and salt. Was there aught that I did not share One joy or woe that I did not know, I have written the tale of our life 3 A GENERAL SUMMARY WE are very slightly changed "Dowb," the first of all his race, Died-and took the finest grave. When they scratched the reindeer-bone, Some one made the sketch his own, Filched it from the artist-then, Even in those early days, Won a simple Viceroy's praise Through the toil of other men. Ere they hewed the Sphinx's visage Favouritism governed kissage, Even as it does in this age. Who shall doubt "the secret hid On King Pharaoh's swart Civilians? Thus, the artless songs I sing And shall be for evermore! A ARMY HEADQUARTERS Old is the song that I sing Old as my unpaid bills Old as the chicken that kitmutgars1 bring Men at dâk-bungalows-old as the Hills. HASUERUS JENKINS of the "Operatic Own," Was dowered with a tenor voice of super-Santley tone. His views on equitation were, perhaps, a trifle queer. He had no seat worth mentioning, but oh! he had an ear. He clubbed his wretched company a dozen times a day; He took two months at Simla when the year was at the spring, And underneath the deodars eternally did sing. He warbled like a bul-bul but particularly at She controlled a humble husband, who, in turn, controlled a Dept. Where Cornelia Agrippina's human singing-birds were kept From April to October on a plump retaining-fee, Supplied, of course, per mensem, by the Indian Treasury. |