Peter Newell

“ Was going out to grind it,
When through the bag the bullet tore
And left a hole behind it!
Dick neither knew the bag was pinked,
Nor that a hole was in it,
And wondered why the load he bore
Grew lighter every minute. ”

“ When—boom! the bass-drum sounded out—
The shot had gone clean through it!
The leader turned about in ire,
And pointing at the drummer,
Exclaimed: “You sthart too soon, my friendt—
You make a better plumber!” ”

“ Ef I could learn his name.”
{31}
{32}
A vender of balloons, a chap
In Russia born and bred,
Came ambling through the dusty street,
His wares above his head.
“Balloons! Balloons! Who vants to buy?” ”