* THE MISSION THAT FAILED *

Our troop was encamped by the side of a stream

An’ a very smart troop were we.

We‘ ad Cavalry orficers — straight from town,

An’ we escorted Mister Commissioner Brown,

Commissioner Brown, C. B.

An’ we‘ eard that the Governor put‘ im down,

For a spare K. C. M. G.!

We wos camped near by to a border town,

On the borders of Creegerland —

A very despotic, republican state —

An’ there we‘ ad got the order to wait,

But why, we did not understand.

So we bedded our‘ orses, an’ cussed at our fate

( For you can n't cuss the man in command ).

One mornin’ sez Mister Commissioner Brown,

Sez‘ e to the‘ ole parade,

‘ I've bin inspired by a dream just now —

I can n't say why, an’ I can n't say‘ ow —

But a voice in my dream it said,

“O in Joannistown there's a deuce of a row

And badly they want your aid! "’

Now Joannistown is in Creegerland,

Which same is a friendly state.

An’ it is n't no joke — which is puttin’ it fine —

To pass without notice the border-post sign;

But we did it, as I will relate.—

We really intended to drop‘ em a line!

But we‘ ad n't got time to wait.

We‘ ad ridden some miles into Creegerland

When Commissioner Brown, C. B.,

‘ E called an‘ alt,— which a troop requires,

For a man,‘ e tires, as‘ is‘ orse perspires,—

An’‘ e sez to the troop, sez‘ e,

‘ About ten miles from‘ ere are some telegraph wires,

An’ a very good thought struck me.

‘ For fear of my dream bein’ misunderstood

An’ the evil constructions of liars!—

For fear of alarmin’ the dear farmers’ wives

An’ disturbin’ the quiet an’ peace of their lives,

I think we will sever them wires!

An’ I'll give somethin’‘ andsome to‘ im‘ oo contrives

To cut off the current — with pliers!’

An’ Michael M'Carty, Lance-Corp'ral was‘ e,

Right guide to a section of‘ A,’

Started orf on the job, an’ we whispered a cheer,

An’ we each gave the beggar our flasks — full of beer —

To‘ elp for to lighten‘ is way!

We gave‘ im cheap drinks — though it was very dear

When it came round to settling day!

M'Carty‘ e rode, an’ M'Carty‘ e swilled,

An’ M'Carty got big in the‘ ead,

Till‘ e could n't tell telegraph poles from trees,

An’‘ e wandered around, sorter go-as-you-please

Till‘ is wonderin’ wanderin's led

To the wires — of a fence! an’ reclinin’ at ease

‘ E cut up these wasters instead!

It's all over now: an’ Brown‘ e got jugged,

And the Burghers of Creegerland knowed.

They licked us to fits in a sweet little fight,

An’ the King of Jerusalem wired‘ is delight!

An’ the Laureate wrote us an Ode!

An’ Europe got ready for action that night

‘ Cos M'Carty got drunk on the road!

M'Carty' s a thief, M'Carty' s a beast,

An’ M'Carty is likewise a liar!

‘ E went an’ got drunk, which‘ e should n't‘ ave done;

‘ E went an’ got drunk, an’‘ e spoilt the‘ ole fun:

An’ the moral to them wot conspire

Is, Do n't send a beer-swilling son of a gun

When you're cuttin a telegraph wire!