For it's pay-day, pay-day, pay-day;
Can't you hear the bugles call?
The privates and the Non-Coms,
The officers and all
Have been waitin', waitin', waiting
'Til they're broke or badly bent
For the coins stacked up on blankets
And table in a tent.

Fifteen dollars in the mornin'
By the evenin' in the hole;
And "Private Jones is absent, Sir."
When the Sergeant calls the roll.
The officers are lookin' up
The "Articles of War";
There's sixteen in the guard-house,
And the Provost has some more.



THE ARMY GROUCH

When the Grouch gets up at reveille,
He puts his elbow on his knee;
His head upon his hand;
And tho' he's slept ten hours or more,
His back is weak, his feet are sore,
And he can hardly stand.
And, as he goes to get his chow,
He says, "By Gosh!--I don't see how