Page:Field Poems of Childhood.djvu/153



'M a beautiful red, red drum, And I train with the soldier boys; As up the street we come, Wonderful is our noise! There's Tom, and Jim, and Phil, And Dick, and Nat, and Fred, While Widow Cutler's Bill And I march on ahead, With a r-r-rat-tat-tat And a tum-titty-um-tum-tum— Oh, there's bushels of fun in that For boys with a little red drum!

The Injuns came last night While the soldiers were abed, And they gobbled a Chinese kite And off to the woods they fled! The woods are the cherry-trees Down in the orchard lot, And the soldiers are marching to seize The booty the Injuns got.