On analysis I should say that there are five subjects on which our soldiers sing. First, there are Nonsense Songs or, if you prefer it, songs of soldier-philosophy. They know that no theory will explain the war; it is too big a thing for any sheet of philosophy to cover. It has burst in on our little hum-drum life like a colliding planet. The thing to do is not to evolve a theory as to how the planet got astray but to clear up the mess it has made. Our soldiers show this sense of the vastness of war-happenings, by singing of things having no real importance at all, and keeping steadily at their duties. The path of duty is, they find, the only path of sanity. The would-be war philosopher they put on one side. The war is too big for him. Let him leave his explanation of the war and lend a hand to bring it to an end. So they sing, with laughing irony, "We’re here because we’re here, because We’re here, because we’re here." Or, "While you’ve got a lucifer to light your fag, Smile, boys, that’s the style. What’s the use of worrying? It never was worth while, So pack up your troubles in your old kit-bag And smile, smile, smile." Another favorite is, "Oh, there was a little hen and she had a wooden leg, The best little hen that ever laid an egg, And she laid more eggs than any hen on the farm, And another little drink wouldn’t do us any harm." I have seen them dancing round some old piano singing, "Oh, that fascinating Bow Bells’ glide, It’s a captivating Bow Bells’ slide. There’s a rumor that the puma does it now, Monkeys have taken to it, Leopards and lions do it. All the elephants wear dancing shoes, They keep hopping with the kangaroos; Hear them chatter, it’s a matter for some talk; Now the Jungle’s got the Bow Bells’ walk." The second class of song is the Love Song, of a more or less serious character. The Tommies came out of England singing "Tipperary," but they dropped it in France, and the only one on whose lips I have heard it was a little French boy sitting on the tail of a cart. The chorus alone gave it popularity for it was the expression, ready to hand, of a long farewell; and with its "long long way to go" showed that, like Kitchener, the soldiers were not deceived by hopes of an early peace. Now another song with verses more expressive of their sentiments has taken its place. The chorus runs: "There’s a long, long trail a-winding Into the land of my dreams, Where the nightingales are singing And a white moon beams; There’s a long, long night of waiting Until my dreams all come true; Till the day when I’ll be going down That long, long trail with you." Then the mood changes, and we hear the lads piping out,