Page:The moods of Ginger Mick.djvu/121

 Rh "Ho! the sky's as blue as blazes, an' the sun is shinin' still, An' the dicky bird is perchin' on the twig, An' the guns is pop, pop, poppin' frum the trenches on the 'ill, An' I'm lookin' bonny in me non-com's rig. An' when yer writin' me again—don't think I want ter skite— But don't fergit the 'Corperil'; an' mind yeh spells it right."