y's darling drank water muddy;
Somebody's darling saw men all bloody;
Somebody's darling heard bullets fly;
Somebody's darling saw comrades die;
Somebody's darling was playing the game,--
Thousands and thousands were doing the same.

Somebody's darling rose long before morn;
Somebody's darling went tattered and torn;
Somebody's darling longed for a bite,
Half-baked by day and frozen by night.
Somebody's darling received Mails sometimes,
And his joy was beyond my idle rhymes.

Somebody's darling was sniped one fierce day,
An ambulance jolted him far away;
Somebody's darling had got it bad,
Somebody at home would soon be sad.
Somebody's darling grew worse--then died.
And--that was the end of Somebody's Pride.

DELAREY GIVES US A FIELD DAY.

_Monday, September 10th, 1900._

We had _reveille_ at 3.30, and moved off as advance party before dawn.
It was not long before we got into action. In less than a mile from our
camp we found _frere_ Boer, who made his presence known to us in the
usual way, that is, with his Mauser, Express, Martini-Henry, or elephant
gun; of course, the first is his usual weapon. Not to be too
long-winded, we carried ridge after ridge of kopje for several miles. On
one occasion the enemy and ourselves rushed for the top of two different
kopjes, wherefrom to pepper one another. We only just had time to take
cover in a sangar as they opened fire from the opposite hill. Their
bullets buzzed and whistled over us, bringing down twigs from a tree
just by me, and striking the stones with a nasty sound. Later, the
infantry (Worcesters), advancing from behind, began firing over us at
the enemy; indeed, for a little time, we were very uncertain whether
they were not mistaking us for t'others. Anyhow, their bullets came most
infernally close, and necessitated our taking careful cover from the
missiles in rear as well as those in front. At last we came to the
enemy's main position, which was a fine natural one, and our artillery
came into play--we resting for a bit, and the infantry forming up to
advance under their fire. Then hell got loose. Bang, bang, bang went our
field guns; boom went the 4.7; pom-pom-pom-pom-pom went the
Vickers-Maxims; rap-rap-rap-rap-rap-rap went the Maxims; bang, bang went
their field guns; up-um, up-um, up-um went their Mausers; crack, crack
went our rifles. Imagine the