This is the story as told to me; It may be a fairy-tale new, But I know the man, and I know that he lies Very infrequently, too!
When the boys in khaki first were called to serve, Guarding railroad bridges and the like, Bob was just a private in the old N. G., Fond of all the work — except the hike.
When they sent his comp'ny down the road a bit, “Gee!” he said, “I'd like to commandeer Some one's car and drive it — marching gets my goat!” ( Bob was quite a gas-car engineer. )
Lonesome work, this pacing up and down a bridge. Now and then a loaded train goes by; But at night — just nothing; everything was dead; Empty world beneath an empty sky.
Then the chauffeur lady got into the game, Drove her car each midnight to our tents, Bringing us hot coffee, sandwiches, and pie; All the others thought that was immense.
But Bob, ungrateful cuss, he would never say, Like the rest, that she had saved their lives; He was too blamed busy, like the one-armed man Papering — the one that had the hives!
Bob would eat the lunches — eat and come again, Silent, but as hungry as a pup; Finish with a piece o’ pie, swallow it — and go; Never had to make him hurry up!
Then one night we heard him talking to the girl, Like he was complaining to her: “Say! Ca n't you change the stuffing? I am sick of ham! Have a heart! I'd just as lief eat hay!”
Did we all jump on him? You can bet we did: “Who gave you the right to kick, you steer, Over what she brings us? She's a first-rate pal; Talk some more and get her on her ear!”
Bob was somewhat flustered; thought we had n't heard. Then he said, “Well, ai n't you tired o’ ham?” “What of that?” says Wilcox. “Think of how she works! Spends her cash...!” ( All Bob said then was, “Damn!” )
Grabbing up his Springfield, “Listen, you!” he snaps. “That's my motor and my gasoline. Sure she's spending money — but it comes from me; She's my sister, and her name's Irene!”
Then, as he marched himself into the night, We looked at each other a spell. “We've ditched our good luck — he wo n't let her come back,” Says Wilcox. “Now is n't that hell!”
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