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Pay Day Post by :Attitude Category :Poems Author :W. E. Christian Date :November 2011 Read :1281

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Pay Day

Oh, it's early in the morning,
The mules begin to squeal,
You hear the cooks a'bangin' pans
To get the mornin' meal;
The Bugler, sort o' toodlin,
Outside the Colonel's tent,
And you kind o' feel downhearted,
'Cause your last two bits is spent.

With a leggin-string you're fussin'
When the band begins to play,
And you listen, and stop cussin',--
What is that the bugles say?
Oh, it's pay-day, pay-day, pay-day,
And the drums begin to roll,
And they sure do carry music
To the busted Johnnie's soul.

Some think about the girls they'll get,
And some, about the beer;
Some say they'll send their money home,
And all begin to cheer.
The games will soon be goin'
Snap your fingers at the dice;
With the canteen spigots flowin'
'Til the Barkeep's out of ice.

For it's pay-day, pay-day, pay-day;
Can't you hear the bugles call?
The privates and the Non-Coms,
The officers and all
Have been waitin', waitin', waiting
'Til they're broke or badly bent
For the coins stacked up on blankets
And table in a tent.

Fifteen dollars in the mornin'
By the evenin' in the hole;
And "Private Jones is absent, Sir."
When the Sergeant calls the roll.
The officers are lookin' up
The "Articles of War";
There's sixteen in the guard-house,
And the Provost has some more.

(The end)
W. E. Christian's poem: Pay Day

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The Army Grouch The Army Grouch

The Army Grouch
When the Grouch gets up at reveille, He puts his elbow on his knee; His head upon his hand; And tho' he's slept ten hours or more, His back is weak, his feet are sore, And he can hardly stand. And, as he goes to get his chow, He says, "By Gosh!--I don't see how A soldier lives so long. The spuds is rotten and the slum Is always worse than on the bum. The coffee is too strong. That cow was killed ten years before They organized

Our Officers Our Officers

Our Officers
I'm goin' to be discharged, sir; My time is near its close, I want to tell you, cap'en, You're the best the country grows. They ain't no man in all the world Can beat the army man, That wears the shiny leggins and That does the best he can. I've seen them, sir, in battle With the bullets flyin' round, I've seen them lying wounded With the blood-stains on the ground. I've watched them when the fever