INDEX TO FIRST LINES

A fool there was, and he made his prayer,
Ahasuerus Jenkins of the "Operatic Own"
Ah, well-a-day, for we are souls bereaved!
Alone upon the housetops, to the North
A much discerning public hold
And since they can not spend or use aright
And some are sulky, while some will plunge
And the years went on, as the years must do;
And they were stronger hands than mine

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An' when the war began, we chased the bold Afghan,
As I came through the Desert, thus it was —
A stone's throw out on either hand

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At the close of a winter day,

'Ave you 'eard of the Widow at Windsor

Baffled and beaten back, she works on still;
Boanerges Blitzen, servant of the Queen,
But I shall not understand

By the hoof of the Wild Goat uptossed

By the laws of the Family Circle 'tis written in letters of brass

By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to

the sea,

Cry "Murder!" in the market-place, and each

Delilah Aberystwith was a lady-not too young Did you see John Malone, wid his shinin', brandnew hat?

Dim dawn behind the tamarisks

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Ere the steamer bore him Eastward, Sleary was en

From my gray scarp I view with scornful eyes

God of our fathers, known of old —

Go, stalk the red deer o'er the heather;

He drank strong waters and his speech was coarse;
He must be a man of decent height,

Hurrah! hurrah! a soldier's life for me!
Hurree Chunder Mookergee, pride of Bow Bazar,

I built myself a lordly pleasure-house,
I closed and drew for my love's sake,
If a young man should marry you,
If down here I chance to die,

"If I have taken the common clay,

If it be pleasant to look on, stalled in the packed serai,

If you've ever stole a pheasant-egg be'ind the keeper's back,

I had seen, as dawn was breaking

I have a thousand men," said he,

I have eaten your bread and salt,

I know thy cunning and thy greed,

Imprimis he was "broke." Thereafter left

In the daytime, when she moved about me,
In the name of the Empress of India, make way,
In the pleasant orchard-closes

It was an artless Bandar, and he danced upon a pine,
It was an August evening, and in snowy garments

clad,

It was our war-ship "Clampherdown"

It was not in the open fight

I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer

Jack Barrett went to Quetta

Jain 'Ardin' was a Sarjint's wife,
Jane Austen Beecher Stowe de Rouse
Jenny and Me were engaged, you see,
Journeys end in lovers' meeting,

Kabul town's by Kabul river

First Lines

Lest you should think this story true,

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Life liveth best in life, and doth not roam

161

Listen in the north, my boys, there's trouble on the

Look, you have cast out Love! What Gods are these.
Love and Death once ceased their strife

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Minnie bakes oaten cake, Minnie brews ale,
My garden blazes brightly with the rose bush and
the peach,

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My girl she give me the go oncet,

"None whole or clean," we cry, "or free from stain Not though you die to-night, O Sweet, and wail, Now Jones had left his new-wed bride to keep his house in order,

Now this is the tale of the Council the German Kai

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Now Tomlinson gave up the ghost in his house in
Berkeley Square,

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Oh, crow! Go, crow! Baby's sleeping sound,
Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the
twain shall meet,

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Oh! Where would I be when my froat was dry?
One moment bid the horses wait,

Open the cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,

Pagett, M. P., was a liar, and a fluent liar therewith,

Pit where the buffalo cooled his hide,
Pleasant it is for the Little Tin Gods

Oh, gallant was our galley from her carven steering wheel.

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ΤΟΙ

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Potiphar Gubbins, C. E.,

Read here,

Ride with an idle whip, ride with an unsed heel.
Rosicrucian subtleties

Rustum Beg, of Kolazai,-slightly backward native

State

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Seven men from all the world,

Shun shun the Bowl! That fatal, facile drink Smokin' my pipe on the mountings, sniffin' the mornin'-cool,

Soft on thy tomb shall fond Remembrance shed

So we loosed a bloomin' volley,

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So we settled it all when the storm was done,
'Stopped in the straight when the race was his own

That night, when through the mooring chains
The dead child lay in the shroud,

Theebau, the Burmah king, did a very foolish thing
The eldest son bestrides him,

Their warrior forces Chimnajee

Then we brought the lances down, then the bugles blew,

There was a row in Silver Street that's near to Dub

There was no one like 'im, 'Orse or Foot,

There were three friends that buried the fourth,

The smoke upon your altar dies,

The toad beneath the harrow knows

The wild hawk to the wind-swept sky,

The wolf cub at even lay hid in the corn,
The World hath set its heavy yoke

"They are only fools who kiss and tell,"

Though tangled and twisted the course of true love,

Thus, for a season, they fought it fair

To-night God knows what thing shall tide,

Too late, alas! the song

To the wake of Tim O'Hara came company,

Troopin', troopin', troopin' to the sea:

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First Lines

'T was Fultah Fisher's boarding-house

Tweed said tae Till:

Twelve hundred million men are spread

Udai Chand lay sick to death

"Vanity, all is vanity," said Wisdom, scorning me

Walpole talks of "a man and his price."
We are marchin' on relief over Injia's sunny plains,
We are very slightly changed

We've fought with many men acrost the seas,
We have another Viceroy now, those days are dead
and done,

"What are the bugles blowin' for?" said Files-on

Parade

"What have we ever done to bear this grudge?"
What is the moral? Who rides may read,
"What's yon that follows at my side?"

When the 'arf-made recruity goes out to the East,
When the earth was sick, and the skies were gray,
When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on

Eden's green and gold,

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When we go-go-go away from here,

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While the snaffle holds, or the "long-neck" stings, "Why is my district death-rate low ?"

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Winds of the World, give answer! They are whimpering to and fro

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"Wise is the child who knows his sire,"

Wot makes the soldier's 'eart to penk, wot makes
'im to perspire?

You could n't pack a Broadwood half a mile-
You may talk o' gin and beer

Youth's daring spirit, manhood's fire,

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