Rhymes of a Red Cross Man Part 15

'Ave you seen Bill's mug in the Noos to-day?

'E's gyned the Victoriar Cross, they say; Little Bill wot would grizzle and run away, If you 'it 'im a swipe on the jawr.

'E's slaughtered the Kaiser's men in tons; 'E's captured one of their quick-fire guns, And 'e 'adn't no practice in killin' 'Uns Afore 'e went off to the war.

Little Bill wot I nussed in 'is by-by clothes; Little Bill wot told me 'is childish woes; 'Ow often I've tidied 'is pore little nose Wiv the 'em of me pinnyfore.

And now all the papers 'is praises ring, And 'e's been and 'e's shaken the 'and of the King And I sawr 'im to-day in the ward, pore thing, Where they're patchin' 'im up once more.

And 'e says: "Wot d'ye think of it, Lizer Ann?"

And I says: "Well, I can't make it out, old man; You'd 'ook it as soon as a sc.r.a.p began, When you was a bit of a kid."

And 'e whispers: "'Ere, on the quiet, Liz, They're makin' too much of the 'ole d.a.m.n biz, And the papers is printin' me ugly phiz, But ... I'm 'anged if I know wot I did.

"Oh, the Captain comes and 'e says: 'Look 'ere!

They're far too quiet out there: it's queer.

They're up to somethin'--'oo'll volunteer To crawl in the dark and see?'

Then I felt me 'eart like a 'ammer go, And up jumps a chap and 'e says: 'Right O!'

But I chips in straight, and I says 'Oh no!

'E's a missis and kids--take me.'

"And the next I knew I was sneakin' out, And the oozy corpses was all about, And I felt so scared I wanted to shout, And me skin fair p.r.i.c.kled wiv fear; And I sez: 'You coward! You 'ad no right To take on the job of a man this night,'

Yet still I kept creepin' till ('orrid sight!) The trench of the 'Uns was near.

"It was all so dark, it was all so still; Yet somethin' pushed me against me will; 'Ow I wanted to turn! Yet I crawled until I was seein' a dim light shine.

Then thinks I: 'I'll just go a little bit, And see wot the doose I can make of it,'

And it seemed to come from the mouth of a pit: 'Christmas!' sez I, 'a _MINE.'_

"Then 'ere's the part wot I can't explain: I wanted to make for 'ome again, But somethin' was blazin' inside me brain, So I crawled to the trench instead; Then I saw the bullet 'ead of a 'Un, And 'e stood by a rapid-firer gun, And I lifted a rock and I 'it 'im one, And 'e dropped like a chunk o' lead.

"Then all the 'Uns that was underground, Comes up with a rush and on with a bound, And I swings that giddy old Maxim round And belts 'em solid and square.

You see I was off me chump wiv fear: 'If I'm sellin' me life,' sez I, 'it's dear.'

And the trench was narrow and they was near, So I peppered the brutes for fair.

"So I 'eld 'em back and I yelled wiv fright, And the boys attacked and we 'ad a fight, And we 'captured a section o' trench' that night Which we didn't expect to get; And they found me there with me Maxim gun, And I'd laid out a score if I'd laid out one, And I fainted away when the thing was done, And I 'aven't got over it yet."

So that's the 'istory Bill told me.

Of course it's all on the strict Q. T.; It wouldn't do to get out, you see, As 'e hacted against 'is will.

But 'e's convalescin' wiv all 'is might, And 'e 'opes to be fit for another fight-- Say! Ain't 'e a bit of the real all right?

Wot's the matter with Bill!

Missis Moriarty's Boy

Missis Moriarty called last week, and says she to me, says she: "Sure the heart of me's broken entirely now-- it's the fortunate woman you are; You've still got your Dinnis to cheer up your home, but me Patsy boy where is he?

Lyin' alone, cold as a stone, kilt in the weariful wahr.

Oh, I'm seein' him now as I looked on him last, wid his hair all curly and bright, And the wonderful, tenderful heart he had, and his eyes as he wint away, Shinin' and lookin' down on me from the pride of his proper height: Sure I'll remember me boy like that if I live to me dyin' day."

And just as she spoke them very same words me Dinnis came in at the door, Came in from McGonigle's ould shebeen, came in from drinkin' his pay; And Missis Moriarty looked at him, and she didn't say anny more, But she wrapped her head in her ould black shawl, and she quietly wint away.

And what was I thinkin', I ask ye now, as I put me Dinnis to bed, Wid him ravin' and cursin' one half of the night, as cold by his side I sat; Was I thinkin' the poor ould woman she was wid her Patsy slaughtered and dead?

Was I weepin' for Missis Moriarty? I'm not so sure about that.

Missis Moriarty goes about wid a shinin' look on her face; Wid her grey hair under her ould black shawl, and the eyes of her mother-mild; Some say she's a little bit off her head; but annyway it's the case, Her timper's so swate that you nivver would tell she'd be losin' her only child.

And I think, as I wait up ivery night for me Dinnis to come home blind, And I'm hearin' his stumblin' foot on the stair along about half-past three: Sure there's many a way of breakin' a heart, and I haven't made up me mind-- Would I be Missis Moriarty, or Missis Moriarty me?

My Foe

A Belgian Priest-Soldier Speaks:--

_GURR!_ You 'cochon'! Stand and fight!

Show your mettle! Snarl and bite!

Sp.a.w.n of an accursed race, Turn and meet me face to face!

Here amid the wreck and rout Let us grip and have it out!

Here where ruins rock and reel Let us settle, steel to steel!

Look! Our houses, how they spit Sparks from brands your friends have lit.

See! Our gutters running red, Bright with blood your friends have shed.

Hark! Amid your drunken brawl How our maidens shriek and call.

Why have _YOU_ come here alone, To this hearth's blood-spattered stone?

Come to ravish, come to loot, Come to play the ghoulish brute.

Ah, indeed! We well are met, Bayonet to bayonet.

G.o.d! I never killed a man: Now I'll do the best I can.

Rip you to the evil heart, Laugh to see the life-blood start.

Bah! You swine! I hate you so.

Show you mercy? No! ... and no! ...

There! I've done it. See! He lies Death a-staring from his eyes; Glazing eyeb.a.l.l.s, panting breath, How it's horrible, is Death!

Plucking at his b.l.o.o.d.y lips With his trembling finger-tips; Choking in a dreadful way As if he would something say In that uncouth tongue of his... .

Oh, how horrible Death is!

How I wish that he would die!

So unnerved, unmanned am I.

See! His twitching face is white!

See! His bubbling blood is bright.

Why do I not shout with glee?

What strange spell is over me?

There he lies; the fight was fair; Let me toss my cap in air.

Why am I so silent? Why Do I pray for him to die?

Where is all my vengeful joy?

Ugh! _MY FOE IS BUT A BOY._

I'd a brother of his age Perished in the war's red rage; Perished in the Ypres h.e.l.l: Oh, I loved my brother well.

And though I be hard and grim, How it makes me think of him!

He had just such flaxen hair As the lad that's lying there.