BILL 'AWKINS "Look 'ere, where 'e comes, Bill 'Awkins! Now what in the devil will you say?" "It isn't fit an' proper to be fightin' on a Sunday, So I'll pass 'im the time o' day Gawd-bless-'im! I'll pass 'im the time o' day!" THE MOTHER-LODGE THERE was Rundle, Station Master, Our Master twice was 'e, With 'im that kept the Europe-shop, Outside-"Sergeant! Salaam!" Inside-"Brother," an' it doesn't do no 'arm. We met upon the Level an' we parted on the Square, An' I was Junior Deacon in my Mother-Lodge out there! We'd Bola Nath, Accountant, An' Din Mohammed, draughtsman THE MOTHER-LODGE We 'adn't good regalia, An' our Lodge was old an' bare, But we knew the Ancient Landmarks, An' we kep' 'em to a hair; An' lookin' on it backwards It often strikes me thus, There ain't such things as infidels, Excep', per'aps, it's us. For monthly, after Labour, We'd all sit down and smoke (We dursn't give no banquits, Lest a Brother's caste were broke), An' man on man got talkin' Religion an' the rest, An' every man comparin' Of the God 'e knew the best. So man on man got talkin', An' that dam' brain-fever-bird; An' we'd all ride 'ome to bed, With Mo'ammed, God, an' Shiva Changin' pickets in our 'ead. Full oft on Guy'ment service Accordin' as commanded From Kohat to Singapore, I wish that I might see them, With my Mother-Lodge once more! Outside-" Sergeant! Sir! Salute! Salaam!" 1 Cigar-lighter. 2 Butler. 3 Pantry. "FOLLOW ME 'OME" THERE was no one like 'im, 'Orse or Foot, An' because it was so, why, o' course 'e went an' died, Which is just what the best men do. So it's knock out your pipes an' follow me! 'Is mare she neighs the 'ole day long, An' she won't take 'er feed 'cause o' waitin' for 'is step, Which is just what a beast would do. 'Is girl she goes with a bombardier Before 'er month is through; An' the banns are up in church, for she's got the beggar hooked, Which is just what a girl would do. |