Hear the monstrous Schoolhouse bells, Direful bells! What a dirge of irony their ting-a-ling expels! Like the chanticleer at morn, How they torture us, and warn We must hurry or be canned At call of roll. How they peel their tunics and Whoop 'er up, with tireless tongues, to beat the band; What a toll! O, you blatant, brazen shells! You ringers for Mephisto, from superheated hells, With your knells! Truth compels That we voice our joy with yells 'Cause you're hung and bound in cells While we're swearing and despairing, O, you bells, bells, bells, Wicked bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells, O, you rocking, mocking, shocking Schoolhouse bells! SANDY, THE PIPER Do ye know me mon Sandy,--Sandy the Piper? 'E's 'ome on a leave, with 'is chin shot away! They wouldn't a 'armed 'im, but some blooming sniper Just slipped 'im a slug from a roof in Bombay. 'Ow did it all 'appen? Well, just one battalion Was left in the Barracks: the rest 'ad been sent To guard the new Viceroy, with Major MacCallion: It was dubbed the "'Ot Scotch," this 12th Regiment. The Colonel was sick with a Jungle disorder, And 'arf of the time was well out of 'is 'ead; And when the Sepoys, from the 'Yderbad Border Revolted and rushed us, the Colonel was dead. So Sandy and men were besieged and near choking, And most the battalion was killed or 'ad fell, While the fiends in the street, like devils a stoking, Were firing this 'ell 'ole with bullet and shell. 'Twas 'ere that me Sandy broke out thru a window, Disguised as a Rajah, with turban and sword; And so, quite unnoticed (they thought him a Indoo!) 'E soon joined the ranks of the mutinous 'orde. And then 'e 'arrangued 'em ('e knew all their jargon!) And urged 'em to scatter and uphold the law; But 'ere 'e was thru 'e was sick of 'is bargain When a bloody bomb-bullet 'alf shattered 'is jaw. So Sandy's back 'ome, but his features are altered: What a close shave 'e 'ad! 'is face is a sight! But when duty called 'e was there and ne'er faltered: With toot, shoot or Hoot, Mon! 'e mixed in the fight. 'Is goatee is gone, with the chin where 'e grew it: 'E was once very bonnie when 'e was a lad; And 'is bagpipe would charm me: my, 'ow 'e blew it! When 'e marched with 'is squad, a playing like mad. And I makes o'er 'im still, tho Sandy's not pretty, But a 'ero 'e is in Northlands and South: A gude wife I've been, tho I think it a pity That Sandy was given to _shoot off 'is mouth_. "BEN BOLT"