"I'd like to be a captain, dad, a major or a colonel, I'd like to get my picture in some illustrated journal; I don't exactly fancy jobs that now and then come my way, Like picking bits of rubbish up that desecrate the highway. But still I'll do those menial tasks as cheerfully as could one, For while I am a private here I'm going to be a good one. "A soldier's life is not the way I'd choose to make my living, But now I'm in the ranks to serve, my best to it I'm giving. Oh, I could name a dozen jobs that I'd consider finer, But since I've got this one to do I'll never be a whiner. I'm just a private in the ranks, but take it from my letter, They'll never fire your son for one who'll do his duty better." His Santa Claus He will not come to him this year with all his old-time joy, An imitation Santa Claus must serve his little boy; Last year he heard the reindeers paw the roof above his head, And as he dreamed the kindly saint tip-toed about his bed, But Christmas Eve he will not come by any happy chance; This year his kindly Santa Claus must guard a trench in France. His mother bravely tries to smile; last Christmas Eve was gay; Last Christmas morn his daddy rose at dawn with him to play; This year he'll hang his stocking by the chimney, but the hands That filled it with the joys he craved now serve in foreign lands. He is too young to understand his mother's troubled glance, But he that was his Santa Claus is in a trench in France. Somewhere in France this Christmas Eve a soldier brave will be, And all that night in fancy he will trim a Christmas tree; And all that night he'll live again the joys that once he had When he was good St. Nicholas unto a certain lad. And he will wonder if his boy, by any sad mischance, Will find his stocking empty just because he serves in France. Show the Flag Show the flag and let it wave As a symbol of the brave; Let it float upon the breeze As a sign for each who sees That beneath it, where it rides, Loyalty to-day abides. Show the flag and signify That it wasn't born to die; Let its colors speak for you That you still are standing true, True in sight of God and man To the work that flag began. Show the flag that all may see That you serve humanity. Let it whisper to the breeze That comes singing through the trees That whatever storms descend You'll be faithful to the end. Show the flag and let it fly, Cheering every passer-by--Men that may have stepped aside, May have lost their old-time pride, May behold it there, and then Consecrate themselves again. Show the flag! The day is gone When men blindly hurry on Serving only gods of gold; Now the spirit that was cold Warms again to courage fine. Show the flag and fall in line!