If the slow tropic fever is a-shaking my spine,
And they blow "boots and saddles" to chase the brown swine,
He'll give me a leg-up and ride me in line,
Will my bunkie.

And if I get hit--his arm goes around,
And raises me tenderly off of the ground,
And the words on his lips are a comforting sound,
The words of my bunkie.



OUR OFFICERS

I'm goin' to be discharged, sir;
My time is near its close,
I want to tell you, cap'en,
You're the best the country grows.
They ain't no man in all the world
Can beat the army man,
That wears the shiny leggins and
That does the best he can.

I've seen them, sir, in battle
With the bullets flyin' round,
I've seen them lying wounded
With the blood-stains on the ground.
I've watched them when the fever
Was a-ragin' in the camp,
I've seen them nurse the cholera--