Private Ortheris’s Song

by Rudyard Kipling

　　

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My girl she give me the go onest, When I was a London lad; An’ I went on the drink for a fortnight, An’ then I went to the bad. The Queen she give me a shillin’ To fight for ’er over the seas; But Guv’ment built me a fever-trap, An’ Injia give me disease. (Chorus) Ho! don’t you ’eed what a girl says, An’ don’t you go for the beer; But I was an ass when I was at grass, An’ that is why I’m ’ere. I fired a shot at a Afghan, The beggar ’e fired again, An’ I lay on my bed with a ’ole in my ’ed, An’ missed the next campaign! I up with my gun at a Burman Who carried a bloomin’ dah, But the cartridge stuck and the bay’nit bruk, An’ all I got was the scar. (Chorus) Ho! don’t you aim at a Afghan, When you stand on the skyline clear; An’ don’t you go for a Burman If none o’ your friends is near. I served my time for a Corp’ral, An’ wetted my stripes with pop, For I went on the bend with a intimate friend, An’ finished the night in the “shop.” I served my time for a Sergeant; The Colonel ’e sez “No! The most you’ll see is a full C.B.” An’ . . . very next night ’twas so! (Chorus) Ho! don’t you go for a Corp’ral Unless your ’ed is clear; But I was an ass when I was at grass, An’ that is why I’m ’ere. I’ve tasted the luck o’ the Army In barrack an’ camp an’ clink, An’ I lost my tip through the bloomin’ trip Along o’ the women an’ drink. I’m down at the heel o’ my service, An’ when I am laid on the shelf, My very worst friend from beginning to end By the blood of a mouse was myself! (Chorus) Ho! don’t you ’eed what a girl says, An’ don’t you go for the beer; But I was an ass when I was at grass, An’ that is why I’m ’ere!

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