O the oont, O the oont, O the floppin', droppin' oont!
When 'is long legs give from under an' 'is meltin' eye
is dim,

The tribes is up be'ind us, and the tribes is out in front-
It ain't no jam for Tommy, but it's kites an' crows for

'im.

So when the cruel march is done, an' when the roads is blind,
An' when we sees the camp in front an' 'ears the shots be'ind,
Ho! then we strips 'is saddle off, and all 'is woes is past:
'E thinks on us that used 'im so, and gets revenge at last.
O the oont, O the oont, O the floatin', bloatin' oont!
The late lamented camel in the water-cut 'e lies;
We keeps a mile be'ind 'im an' we keeps a mile in front,
But 'e gets into the drinkin'-casks, and then o' course
we dies.

LOOT

IF F YOU'VE ever stole a pheasant-egg be'ind the keeper's back,

If you've ever snigged the washin' from the line,

If you've ever crammed a gander in your bloomin' 'aversack, You will understand this little song o' mine.

But the service rules are 'ard, an' from such we are debarred, For the same with English morals does not suit.

(Cornet: Toot! toot!)

Why, they call a man a robber if 'e stuffs 'is marchin' clobber1 With the

(Chorus) Loo! loo! Lulu! lulu! Loo! loo! Lulu! Loot! loot! loot!

Ow the loot!

Bloomin' loot!

'Clothes.

That's the thing to make the boys git up an shoot!
It's the same with dogs an' men,

If you'd make 'em come again

Clap 'em forward with a Loo! loo! Lulu! Loot! (f) Whoopee! Tear 'im, puppy! Loo! loo! Lulu! Loot! loot! loot!

If you've knocked a nigger edgeways when 'e 's thrustin' for your life,

You must leave 'im very careful where 'e fell;

An' may thank your stars an' gaiters if you didn't feel 'is knife

That you ain't told off to bury 'im as well.

Then the sweatin' Tommies wonder as they spade the beggars under

Why lootin' should be entered as a crime.

So, if my song you'll 'ear, I will learn you plain an clear
'Ow to pay yourself for fightin' overtime.
(Chorus) With the loot,

Now remember when you're 'acking round a gilded Burma god

That 'is eyes is very often precious stones;

An' if you treat a nigger to a dose o' cleanin'-rod

'E's like to show you everything 'e owns.

When 'e won't prodooce no more, pour some water on the floor

Where you 'ear it answer 'ollow to the boot

(Cornet: Toot! toot!)

When the ground begins to sink, shove your baynick down the chink,

An' you're sure to touch the

(Chorus) Loo! loo! Lulu! Loot! loot! loot!

Ow the loot!

When from 'ouse to 'ouse you're 'unting, you must always work in pairs—

It 'alves the gain, but safer you will find

For a single man gets bottled on them twisty-wisty stairs, An' a woman comes and clobs 'im from be'ind.

When you've turned 'em inside out, an' it seems beyond a doubt

As if there weren't enough to dust a flute

(Cornet: Toot! toot!)—

Before you sling your 'ook, at the 'ousetops take a look, For it's underneath the tiles they 'ide the loot. (Chorus) Ow the loot!

You can mostly square a Sergint an' a Quartermaster too, If you only take the proper way to go.

I could never keep my pickin's, but I've learned you all I knew

I told you so.

An' now I'll bid good-bye, for I'm gettin' rather dry,

An' I see another tunin' up to toot

(Cornet: Toot! toot)

So 'ere's good-luck to those that wears the Widow's clo'es, An' the Devil send 'em all they want o' loot!

(Chorus) Yes, the loot,

Bloomin' loot!

In the tunic an' the mess-tin an' the boot!
It's the same with dogs an' men,

If you'd make 'em come again.

(fff) Whoop 'em forward with a Loo! loo! Lulu! Loot!

loot! loot!

Heeya! Sick 'im, puppy! Loo! loo! Lulu! Loot! loot! loot!

"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 remember now,
But Two's off-lead1 '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 Snarleyou.

They cut 'im loose an' left 'im-'e was almost tore in twoBut 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 head'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 could n't pull up, not for you-your 'ead between your 'eels!"

'The leading right-hand horse of No. 2 gun.

'E 'ad n'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 limberwheels,

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 'e give 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 'T was juicier for the niggers when the case begun to spread.

The moril of this story, it is plainly to be seen:

You 'av n't got no families when servin' of the QueenYou 'av n't got no brothers, fathers, sisters, wives, or sonsIf 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!)