I fancy that 'e's aged a bit since fust the War begun;
'E's 'ad 'is fill o' fightin' an' 'e's 'ad 'is share o' fun;
'Is eyes is kind o' quiet an' 'is mouth is sort o' set,
But if I didn't know 'im well I wouldn't know 'im yet.
I recollec' the look of 'im the time o' the retreat,
The blood was through 'is toonic an' the skin was orf 'is feet;
But "Come aboard the bus," say 'e, "or you'll be lef be'ind!"
An' takes me weight upon 'is back--it 'asn't slip me mind.
It might 'ave 'appened yesterday, it comes to me so plain;
'E's dahn an' up a dozen times, a-reeling through the rain;
It might 'ave bin lars' Saturday I seem to 'ear 'im say:
"There's plenty room a-top, me lad, an' nothin' more to pay."
'E ain't bin 'ung with medals like a blackamore with beads;
'E doesn't figure on the screen a-doin' darin' deeds;
But reckon I'll be lucky if I gets to Kingdom Come
Along o' that Contemptible wot wouldn't leave a chum.
[Illustration:
FIRST CONTEMPTIBLE: "D'you remember halting here on the retreat, George?"
SECOND DITTO: "Can't call it to mind, somehow. Was it that little village
in the wood there down by the river, or was it that place with the
cathedral and all them factories?"]
Amongst other items of news we have to chronicle the appointment of Mr.
Arnold Bennett as a Director of Propaganda, the steady growth of
goat-keeping, and the exactions of taxi-drivers.
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