By BEATRICE BARRY.
Faith, hear our soldier boys a-sighin'
'Cause Major General John O'Ryan
Won't let 'em dance!
The hard-wood floors he's goin' to rip--
They may not hesitate or dip;
I'm told that he was heard to say
They're 'sposed to work and not to play
Ping Pong!
Ping Pong!
Ping Pong!
No more about a slender waist
Shall arm in uniform be placed.
He looks askance
At signs of happiness and mirth;
Soldiers were put upon the earth
To sweat and dig in hard dirt floors,
And so prepare 'emselves for war's--
Ping Pong!
Ping Pong!
Ping Pong!
I cannot say--I do not know
Whether the boys would have it so;
But if by chance
We should engage in carnage grim,
And harm, alas! should come to him--
Would they feel sorrow then, or bliss,
The while they heard the bullets hiss
Ping Pong,
Ping Pong,
Ping Pong?