Select Poetry

Colonist, Volume IV, Issue 364, 19 April 1861, Page 4

Select Poetry

THE AWKWARD SQUAD.

Now onr Christmas eve drib's o'er, and to supper homo we plod, Comrades, listen while I sing tho sorrows of the Awkward squad. Very sharp is Sergeant Gimlett, but his manner's rather blunt; When he saw I'd got ' a cast,' he unpolitely cried, ' Eyes front!' Though there's nothing queer about me, and my uniform's the best, Gimlett said I was an ' odd file'—told me that I wasn't! dressed.' But I shouldn't mind his bluntness—Serjeants will behave as such— If he'd only mind his grammar: Gimlett's English might be Dutch. ' Rear '■ he tortures into rare— p-u-t he thinks spells putt, And ' foot' in so:ue mysterious way, is metamorphosed into futt. Ruthlessly he drops his h's—Oh, Ido so wish he wouldn't!— Then he picks them up again, and ' putts' them everywhere he shouldn't. Veiy sad it is to hear him as each harmless H he drops; And, to add to my misfortune, Gimlett will not mind his stops. Still I tried to understand him—tried at drill to do my best— When he puts us through our c facings' wasn't duller than the rest. But my eagerness to please him got me into sad disgrace ; When he gave the word to ' Face!' I found that I was not to face, * Has you were,' said Serjeant Gimlett, quickly cooling down my zeal, 1 Bring the oiler of the right futt smart agin the hother eel.' «Then don't halter that position till you gets the horder tow.' ( Two he meant, but he pronounced it as a perfect rhyme to cow.) ' Then jist rise the toes together, and turn smoothly on the eels.' Round we went, like weathercocks, as if we all had worked on wheels. * Has you were,' roared Serjeant Gimlett, in a vicious manner now; • Will you keep them bodies stiddy till I gives the holder tow.' Round, and round, and round he faced us, till our brains resembled starch, Then we tried that strange manoeuvre soldiers learn before they march, Called the balance-step or goose-step, neither appellation's wrong, For only geese or acrobats could keep in such a posture long. Each man stood upon his right leg, with the other in the air, Swinging slowly to and fro, as Gimlett shouted ' front!' and ' tare!' • Well,' I muttered, ' goose at table may be an attractive bird, Rut to imitate his motion is, to say the least, absurd. ' Who that ever saw a gander waddling on his yellow shanks'— 4 Silence !' bellowed our commander, ' Oo's that talking in the ranks ?' Serjeant Gimlett's next injunction—though I'm not at all a glutton— Coming after eels and goose, invited fleeting thoughts of mutton. « When you march,' said our instructor, ' don't cast sheep's heyes down on your breast; « Old your cad hup; look before you; aye your shouldeis nicely dressed. ' Keep the neck and loins from moving; don't I beg, stick out the paunch; ' Let the haction of the leg proceed directly from the aunch. 'March!' said Gimlett. Off we started in a long, uneven row; And, I own, I thought the slow march, most indubitably ' slow.' Gimlett seemed to think so too. It does look stupid, I suppose, "When men at drill won't keep in step, and will forget to ' pint' their toes. Every now and then we ' alted;' and, to rest our fccliirg knees, Gimlett kiud y gave us leave to stand (as he explained) ' at hease.' But his theory M-as a strange one. When at ease a person stands He doesn't stamp his feet before him, and insanely clap his hands. Rather does he put them in the pockets of his pantaloon ?, And whistles, praps a choice selection from his favorite opera tunes. 3ly pet vertical position—which most Englishmen admire— Is when, upon my rag at home, I stand at ease before the fire. Then, in truly British fashion—never doing things by halve.-— With my coat-tails snugly tucked up, I serenely toast my ca.ves. Gimlett, I suppose, was right, though in a martial point of view; And in Turkey, people say, we ought to do as turkeys do. So I'll persevere at drill, although at first it's rather odd ; 1 daresay I sha:l like it better when I leave the Awkward Squad. J. H. LUKIS. —Illustrated London News.