_He's not very handsome or clever,
He's slow in his wits--and he's fat,
And yet he's a soldier of Uncle Sam's--
Now, whaddy you know about that?_
We always called him Dummy,
And thought he wouldn't fight;
We sneered at him and jeered at him--
He was--and is--a sight!
His feet are big, his head is small,
His German blood is slow,
But at the call for volunteers,
Why, didn't Heinie go?
He's workin' as a hostler
(He used to be a clerk)
He don't enjoy his job, that boy,
But Heinie is no shirk.
"This is _my_ country just as much
As it is yours," says he;
"I'm gonna do what I _can_ do
To _keep_ it mine!... You'll see!
"My father, he come over here
To get away from things;
He couldn't abide on th' other side--
Aristocrats and kings.
The Stars and Stripes mean liberty,
I've always understood;
So gimme the right to work--or fight--
I betcha I'll make good.
"As a chambermaid to horses
In a battery that's new,
The work is rough and mean enough
And wouldn't appeal to you;
But I've got my place and I'll stick to it--
Can any man do more?
I've never had a chance, like dad,
To prove myself before."
_Perhaps he won't get a commission;
Perhaps he is dull, and all that;
But somehow I feel that he's better than me--
Now whaddy you know about that?_