Page:Canadian poems of the great war.djvu/212

 Robert W. Service

Yes, the old girl stood a-blubbing till an island hid the view.

Says the factor : Mike, you re crazy ! They have soldier- men a-plenty.

You re as grizzled as a badger, and you re sixty year

or so. J

But I haven t missed a scrap, says I, since I was one and twenty.

And shall I miss the biggest? You can bet your whiskers no !

So I sold my furs and started. . .. . and that s eighteen months ago.

For I joined the Foreign Legion, and they put me for a

starter In the trenches of the Argonne with the Boche a step

away; And the partner on my right hand was an apache from

Montmartre ; On my left there was a millionaire from Pittsburg,

U.S.A.

(Poor fellow! They collected him in bits the other day,)

But I m sprier than a chipmunk, save a touch of the

lumbago ; And they calls me Old Methoosalah, and blagues me

all the day, I m their exhibition sniper, and they work me like a

Dago,

And laugh to see me plug a Boche a half a mile away. Oh, I hold tlje highest record in the regiment, they say.

And at night they gather round me, and I tell them of my roaming

�� �