and hopeful rookie
To the Philippines I came
To hike the glorious pathway
On to shoulder straps and fame,
I thought of mother's counsel,
And I scorned the drunkard's cup,
But I landed on the sick report,
And that's what did me up.

"You've been drinking," said the surgeon,
"You've been drinking on the sly.
You've been disobeying orders;
'Tis useless to deny.
Let me tell you on the Q. T.
That I am going to mark you 'duty'
You've been drinking unboiled water
I can read it in your eye."

I've a bunkie who is a restless dog,
And he doesn't care a fig,
So they marched him to the guard-house
And they made him do fatigue.
He's a gamblin', ramblin' rascal,
An all around jovial sport.
They had him up the other day
Before a summary court.

"Charged with drinking," says the captain,
And he seemed to "wink an eye."
"For you could not stand temptation
And you drank when you was dry.
You are grinning, Private Brady,
And you will draw five less next pay-day,
And for drinking unboiled water
Don't forget I cinched you high."

Since old Pharoah followed Moses,
And was followed by the sea,
Sergeant Potter's been a soldier
And 'til Gabriel's reveille
He'll be answering to the bugle call
At sunset, noon, and morn,
But he's got the Dengue fever,
And it makes him flush and worn.

"You've been drinking unboiled water,"
Says the captain, "that is why."
"No, the captain is mistaken,"
Says the sergeant with a sigh.
"I never do drink water,
Though maybe at times I aught'er;
I never do drink water
When 'John Stink' and Tuba's nigh."

The band it played a mournful tune;
The soldiers crowd around
As a comrade wrapped in Glory's flag
Is lowered in the ground.
There are three resounding volleys,
Taps die out in tender tones
And we're marching to the quick step
From the grave of Corporal Jones.

"It was drinking," says the captain
As a tear was in his eye.
"It was all through drinking water
That the corporal came to die.
'Twas the unboiled water that killed him,
With germs and things it filled him
But now he is drinking from the Jordan
Where we'll join him by and by."

A CYNIC'S VIEW OF ARMY LIFE

Once I was a farmer boy, a tiller of the soil,
I liked the work--I never was a chap to shirk from toil.
But I thought I'd choose a broader life (I must have been an ass).
I took on