The Hun.

"The Hun has no holidays."--CAPTAIN CHURCHILL.

The Hun he has no holidays,

The Hun he never dreams;

He has no nights for pink-tea fights

Or parlor uplift themes.

His conscience is not tender

On Union quips and quirks.

But Sunday, Monday, every day,

He simply grins and works.

He teaches all the little Huns

To shake their little knees

And go draw plans of harbors

And to chant unheard-of seas;

And learn unheard-of languages,

And work like Cain the cursed.

And when there's anything to get

The Hunlet gets there first!

We talk about disarmaments;

He makes a mental note.

We lecture on barbaric war;

He buys our chlorine out.

We Splurge Eternal Brotherhood

With dulcet voice and pen;

The Hun he winks a mild blue eye,

And sets to work again.

While we are playing politics

And pampering our sons,

The Hun is laying railroad tracks,

The Hun is building guns.

He keeps himself in fighting trim;

We've not the moral nerve to.

By God, we may defeat the Hun

By God, we don't deserve to! A. E. LONGUEIL 1G.