Page:Backblock Ballads and Later Verses (C.J. Dennis, 1918).djvu/68

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Beef an' blood gravy's fightin' food, Not milk—but, all the same, I came to see there ain't no good In this crook langwidge game. An' so, a little vow I made, An' joined their swell "Clean-Lip Brigade."

'Twas 'ard! But sternly I pursoo'd    Me course; an' wore a frown Thro' swallerin' me speech unchewed, An' chokin' curse-words down. Oh dear! It was a dreadful stunt! Then, Gracious me! I hit the Front!

A feller in the firin' line, Tied up with sich a gag, Who has to curse by look an' sign, He fair gets out the rag. An' so, I sez, each time I shoots, "I'll take it out of you, you ——broots!"

I don't care what them goodies say, It's cruel, fightin' dumb! To curse a bit, once in a way, Relieves your feelin's some. I kills four men in fair, clean fight, An' seven extra out uv spite.