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THERE was Rundle, Station Master,
An' Beazeley of the Rail,
An' 'Donkin o' the Jail;
Our Master twice was 'e,
Old Framjee Eduljee.
Outside —" Sergeant! Sir! Salute! Salaam !” Inside" Brother,” an' it doesn't do no 'arm. We met upon the Level an' we parted on the
Square, An' I was Junior Deacon in my Mother Lodge out
We'd Bola Nath, Accountant,
An’ Saul the Aden Jew,
There was Babu Chuckerbutty,
An' Amir Singh the Sikh,
The Roman Catholick!
We 'adn't good regalia,
An' our Lodge was old an' bare, But we knew the Ancient Landmarks,
An' we kep''em to a hair;
It often strikes me thus,
Excep', per’aps, it's us.
For monthly, after Labour,
We'd all sit down and smoke (We dursn't give no banquits,
Lest a Brother's caste were broke), An' man on man got talkin'
Religion an' the rest, An' every man comparin'
Of the God 'e knew the best.
So man on man got talkin',
An' not a Brother stirred
Till mornin' waked the parrots
An' that dam' brain-fever-bird; We'd say 'twas ’ighly curious,
An' we'd all ride 'ome to bed, With Mo’ammed, God, an' Shiva
Changin' pickets in our ’ead.
Full oft on Guv'ment service
This rovin' foot ’ath pressed, An' bore fraternal greetin's
To the Lodges east an' west, Accordin' as commanded
From Kohat to Singapore, But I wish that I might see them
In my Mother Lodge once more!
I wish that I might see them,
My Brethren black an' brown, With the trichies smellin' pleasant
An' the hog-darn* passin' down; An' the old khansamah | snorin'
On the bottle-khana ( floor, Like a Master in good standing
With my Mother Lodge once more!
Outside—“Sergeant! Sir! Salute! Salaam!”
“FOLLOW ME 'OME.”
THERE was no one like 'im, 'Orse or Foot,
Nor any o' the Guns I knew;
So it's knock out your pipes an' follow me!
Follow memfollow me 'ome!
'Is mare she neighs the 'ole day long,
She paws the 'ole night through,
'Is girl she goes with a bombardier