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"The Hun has no holidays."--CAPTAIN CHURCHILL.
The Hun he has no holidays,
The Hun he never dreams;
He has no nights for pink-tea fights
Or parlor uplift themes.
His conscience is not tender
On Union quips and quirks.
But Sunday, Monday, every day,
He simply grins and works.
He teaches all the little Huns
To shake their little knees
And go draw plans of harbors
And to chant unheard-of seas;
And learn unheard-of languages,
And work like Cain the cursed.
And when there's anything to get
The Hunlet gets there first!
We talk about disarmaments;
He makes a mental note.
We lecture on barbaric war;
He buys our chlorine out.
We Splurge Eternal Brotherhood
With dulcet voice and pen;
The Hun he winks a mild blue eye,
And sets to work again.
While we are playing politics
And pampering our sons,
The Hun is laying railroad tracks,
The Hun is building guns.
He keeps himself in fighting trim;
We've not the moral nerve to.
By God, we may defeat the Hun
By God, we don't deserve to! A. E. LONGUEIL 1G.
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