Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1903-10-08

. do not love my empires foes,
Nor call EN- angels; still,
What is the sense &C atm those
Dom you are paid to kill?
So, barrin all that foreign lot
Which only joined for spite,
Myself, I'd just as soon as not
Respect the man / fight.
All there, Piet! Is trousies to is
knees,
Is coat-tails lynn level in the bullet
sprinkIed breeze;
'E does not lose is rife an e does
not lose is seat,
I've known a lot o people ride a
dam sight worse than Piet,
No more I'll ear is rifle crack
Along the block 'ouse fence
The beggar's on the peaceful tack,
Regardless of expense.
For countin' what e eats an draws,
An gifts an loans as well,
Els gettin' alf the earth, because
f didn't give us Ell
All there, Piet! with your brand-new
English plough,
Your gratis tents an cattle, an your
most ungrateful frow,
You've made the British taxpayer
rebuild your country-seat--
I've known some pet battalions
charge dam sight less than
Piet.
Copyrighted 1908, by Rudyard KlpllngJ
The colonials who served in south
Africa are praised in The Parting of
the Columns. Three verses from 1t
follow.
There isn't much we aven't shared,
since Kruger cut an run,
The same old work, the same old
skoff. the same old dust and sun;
The same old chance that laid us out,
or winked an let us through;
The same old Life. the same old Death
Good. by good luck to youl
Our blood as truly mixed with yours
all down the Red Cross train,
We've bit the same thermometer in
Bloomingtyphodtein
We've 'ad the same old temperature
the same relapses, too,
The same old saw.backed fever-chart.
Good-bye-good luck to youi
But twasn't merely this an that
(which all the world may know
Twas how you talked an looked at
things which made us like you
so.
All Independent. queer an old, but
most amazin' new,
My word! you shook us up to rights.
Good bye-good luck to youl
copyrighted, 1908, by Rudyard Klpling)
Chant.Pagan is the lament of the
English irregular who finds England
tame and unbearable after south
Africa and war. Part of the poem fol
lows:
lie that ave been what I've been,
He that ave gone where I've gone.
He that ave seen what I've seem
'Ow can | ever take ON
With awful old England again,
An 'ouses both sides OF the street,
And edges two sides of the lane,
And the parson an gentry" between,
An touchin' my at when we meet
He that ave been what I've been
He that ave watched 'arf world
Fave up all shiny with dew,
Kopje on kop to the sun,
An as soon as the mist let EN-
through
Our 'elios winkin like fun
Three sides of ninety-mile square.
over valleys as big as shire
Are We there? Are we there? Are
We there?
An then the blind drum of our fire. .
An I'm rollin' lis lawns for the
squire. me,
| will arise an get 'ence;-
| will trek south and make sure
If it's only my fancy or not
That the sunshine of England Is pale
And the breezes of England are stale
An there's somethin' gone small with
the lot:
For | know of a sun an a wind.
An some plains and mountain ben ID
An some graves by a barb.wire fence,
An Dutchman I've fought 90 might
give
Me a job were | ever inclined.
To look in an offsaddle an live
Where there's neither road nor q
tree
But only my Maker an me,
An think II will kill me or cure.
So think viii go there an see.
copyrighted, 1908 by Rudyard KiplIng.l