"Then Sydney Bob was rather vexed With Green--who'd pinched his braces, That was 'continued in our next' In half a score of places. McCubbin threw his grub at Lea (You know how sticky stew is); They fought till neither man could see. You talk of fight--Gorstrike me, we Saw stacks of it at Suez!" HELLO, SOLDIER! BACK again 'n' nothin' missin' barrin' arf a hand, Where an Abdul bit me, chokin' in the Holy Land. 'Struth, they got some dirty fighters in the Moslem pack, Bull-nosed slugs their sneakin' snipers spat ters in yer back Blows a gapin' sort iv pit in What a helephant could sit in. Bounced their bullets, if yeh please, Like the 'oppers in a cheese, Off me rubber pelt in droves, Moppin' up the other coves. So here's me once more at large in Bay-street, Port, a bloomin' Sargin'. "Cri, it jumbo." "Have a beer." "Wot-o, Anzac; you're a dear." Back once more on Moley's corner, loafin' like a dook; Back on Bourke, me livin' image, not a slinkin' spook; Solid ez the day I started, medals on me chest, Switchin' with me pert melacca, swankin' with the best Where the little wimmen's flowin', With their veils 'n' ribbons blowin'- See their eyes of bloo 'n' brown Butterflyin' 'bout the town! Back at 'ome-oh, 'struth, it's good! Long, cold lagers from the wood, Ev'ry cobber jumpin' at you, Strangers duckin' in to bat you- "Good ole Jumbo, how're you?" "'Ello, soldier, howja do?" Back at Grillo's where the nigger googs his whitey eyes, Plucks his black ole greasy banjo while the cod-steak fries; Fish 'n' chips, a pint iv local, and the tidy girl Dancin' glad attendance on yeh 'zif yeh was an earl; Trailin' round the blazin' city, Feelin' all content 'n' pretty, Where the smart procession goes, Prinked 'n' polished to the shows, One among the happy drive- 'Sworth the world to be alive! Dames ez smilin' ez a mother, Ev'ry man ver fav'rit brother: "'Ello, Jumbo, how is it ?" "Arr there, soldier! Good 'n' fit?" Takin' hozone at St. Kilder's good enough for me, Seein' Summer and the star-blink simmer in the sea; Cantin' up me bloomin' cady, toyin' with a cig., Blowin' out me pout a little, chattin' wide 'n' big When there's skirt around to skite to. Say, 'oo has a better right to? Done me bit 'n' done it well, Got the tag iv plate to tell; Square Gallipoli surviver, With a touch iv Colonel's guyver. "Sargin' Jumbo, good ole son!" "Soldier, soldier, you're the one!"