*' HER MAJESTY HAS BEEN PLEASED —‘ *

Wot a crowd of people!

Wot a sea of faces!

‘ Ow the ladies’ parasols are glist'nin’ in the sun!

Troops in‘ open order,’

Captains in their places.

Wish the day was over, and I wish the job was done!

Comes of bein’ famous —

Mentioned in despatches!

Comes of me a-carrying the Major to the rear!

Empty stomach fighting —

Getting sleep by snatches!—

‘ Ow the troops must cuss me for a-keeping them out‘ ere!

‘ Ow the people eye me,

Like a choice chrysanth'um!

‘ Ow this collar's chokin’ me!— Lord! I'm feelin’ sick!

Troops are at the‘ shoulder’ —

‘ Pre-sent’ — there's the anthem!

‘ Ow I‘ ope‘ er Majesty will get it over quick!

Wonder if I'm dusty?

‘ Elmet feels lopsided!

Chuck a chest for‘ Eaven's sake! Lord, I'm feelin’ queer!

Twenty times they've brushed me,

Twice‘ ave I been tidied,

Yet I'm feelin’ mucky still. Private Jawkins?‘ ERE!

Face the lan-dow panels,

Dumbly; likewise blindly,

Seein’ in a sorter mist a lady dressed in black:

‘ Ear‘ er sof'ly talkin’.

Thanks, mum, thank you kindly!

Saw the Major fallin’, and I‘ ad to take‘ im back!

Thank you, mum — your‘ Ighness —

Majesty, I mean, mum!

‘ M sure I'm much obliged to you for this‘ ere pretty Cross!

Bless you, you're a lady!

Mean you are the Queen, mum!

On'y picked the Major up an’ shoved‘ im on an‘ orse!

‘ Saw our Sub go under,

‘ Alf‘ is men around‘ im

Cut to bits — an’‘ im so young,— yes mum, very sad.

Yes mum,‘ e was buried

In the place we found‘ im.

Thank you, mum,— your Majesty ( God, I'm feelin’ bad! )