The Glasgow courier. [volume] (Glasgow, Mont.) 1913-current, 1917-12-21
THE BUGLE CALL
(Bv Charley L. Cant

Yes, sir, all six of or boys have gone; here's a picture of Jim.
Except Baby Bill, who was five-foot-ten and we thot the mt would stay
At home with u.s. but the little cus he uped and marched away:
This is the likeness of Bill, the runt, our baby, just twentv-one,
And III tell you, stranger, he's got the grit and knows how to handle a gun
Yes, l know, they may all get killed, somewhere wei there" in the pit,
But Martha and me are proud of the fact that the boys are doing their bit
This one is Sam, or oldest lad. Let's se, he's six foottwo.
Bone and sinew and lightning quick and trusty and brave and true.
Sam started the thing when he volunteered in the city n night last fall,
1t was mighty hard for to Sc them go, but we had to do III share,
50 u six boys are defending the flag at the front cover there somewhere"
This picture is four years DID, it's a photograph of our Lew,
He's just the likeness of me. they say, along about sxtytwo
When volunteered-this n is Walt, this other is Nrks
And III bet n parents in all the lard have given a noblr six
Than these boys Of u hearts, boys of GU lives, boys of our blood and
bone.
Who are fighting the fight in the trenches while W e wait at home alone.
The run. that's Bill, We thought he'd stay but he heard the bugle call,
So he volunteered, and when they went why, the runt he lead them all,
And We felt a sweet, sad pain, but W e did not plead o sigh
We smiled and said, God bless you boys, then, as the bugle blew
We waved farewell to six brave lei who ire willing to dare and do,
AID stranger when the breezes watt to ears the bugles' bare,
Our hearts are fighting with them in the trench tout there somewhere"
Sit up, stranger, and have a bite. Let's see this is "Hoover Day"
And we got no meat, but sit right up and We'll make it GU. anyway.
Pm lot a advocate of war; I'd rather peace would reign,
I'd rather zee the fields grow green than glow with a crimson stain,
But never could see that flag hauled down by a war-mad kaisers hand
And the track of his desohtion spread through all Freedoms land.
I'd give six mor sons, if could, for Liberty and right
To see that flag forever float o Freedoms mountain height
That's why my boys are at the front to fight the fight that kills
The tyrant hands that fMn would bind the sordid chains of slaves
Around the limbs of Liberty. Not while Old Glory waves
Each passing moment, hour and day we breathe a Prevent prayer
For those who fight in honors name, somewhere v there"
But, stranger, why are you at home and you so young in years?
And m your way to the training camp to fight for Freedoms sake?
Have some more chicken, son; give me your hand to shake.
That's right let Martha shake your hand-go on, fill. up your plate
No, you'll not go o. tonight, for it's getting dark and late.
You're made of the real American stuff-Martha, let's give three cheers
To the stranger, who's o his way to France; he's n of the volunteers.
I wish that every American lad would act like you, and mine,
And go to the flag and not make them drag them into the battle line.
Tell them Martha and 81 said to fight and die for the old Red, White and
Blue.
Goodby, boy; good luck attend, our blessing and u prayer,
And a message of love to the stalwart six in the big out there somewhere