Page:The Five Nations.djvu/184

164 Details for buryin'-parties, company-cooks or supply—

Turn out the chronic Ikonas! Roll up the —— M. I.!

My 'ands are spotty with veldt-sores, my shirt is a button an' frill,

An' the things I've used my bay'nit for would make a tinker ill!

An' I don't know whose dam' column I'm in, nor where we're trekkin' nor why.

I've trekked from the Vaal to the Orange once—

From the Vaal to the greasy Pongolo once—

(Or else it was called the Zambesi once)—

For now I am M. I.

That is what we are known as—we are the push you require

For outposts all night under freezin', an' rear-guard all day under fire.

Anything 'ot or unwholesome? Anything dusty or dry?

Borrow a bunch of Ikonas! Trot out the —— M. I.!