It's a mighty fancy title you have given us,
A name that sounds too fine to really stick;
But maybe you'll forget (when you figure out your debt)
To call th' man who works a farm a "hick."

THE LADIES' MAN

Billy is a ladies' man; Billy dances fine
(Always was a bear-cat at the game);
Billy pulls the social stuff all along the line--
But he knows this business, just the same.

He can march; he can drill
As hard as any rook;
And he knows his manual
Without his little book.

Maybe he was soft at first--ev'rybody's that;
Golfing was his hardest labor then;
Now he's in the Service (where you don't grow fat),
Digging, drilling, like us other men.

He can eat, he can sleep
Like any healthy brute--
And the Captain says that Billy-boy
Is learning how to shoot!

When he joined the Training Camp, Billy says, "No doubt,
I will draw some clerical position;"
But he's shown he can _command_; so--the news is out--
He will get a regular commission!

He can talk; he can dance
(He is still the ladies' pet)
But the way he barks his orders out
Gets _action_, you c'n bet!

COOKIE JIM

The capting says, says he to us:
"Your duty is to do your best;
We can't ALL lead in this here muss,
So mind your job! That is the test
O' soldierin',
O' soldierin'--
To mind your job, while soldierin'!"

When Jimmy joined the colors first, he knowed that soon he'd be
A non-com. officer,--oh, sure, he had that idee firm;
But Jimmy got another think, fer quite eventually
They had him workin' like a Turk, th' pore, astonished worm.

The rest of us, we gotta eat, and Jimmy--he can cook!
(He makes a stew that tastes as good as mother used to make.)
An' when he starts to flappin' cakes, why, every hungry rook
Is droolin' at the mouth for them, a-waitin' fer his take.

He's ranked a sergeant, but he don't mix up with no recruits;
He rides a horse when we parade (which ain't so often now);
But where he shines is when we eat; the grub that Jimmy shoots
At hungry troopers every day is certainly "some chow."

He's jest a "dough-boy," of a sort; it's Jimmy's job to cook;
Don't hafter drill, don't hafter tote a lot of arms with him;
Jest messes up th' stuff we eat, and we don't hafter look--
It's _always_ clean! So here's a good luck and health to Cookie Jim!

The capting says, says he: "You rooks
Have gotta l