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148 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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THE FIGHTING RACE'
" ~T~\ EAD out the names ! " and Burke sat back,
t^^ And Kelly drooped his head.
While Shea—they call him Scholar Jack — Went down the list of the dead. Officers, seamen, gunners, marines,
The crews of the gig and yawl, The bearded man and the lad in his teens,
Carpenters, coal passers—all. Then, knocking the ashes from out his pipe,
Said Burke in an offhand way : " We're all in that dead man's list, by Cripe !
Kelly and Burke and Shea." " Well, here's to the Maine, and I'm sorry for Spain,"
Said Kelly and Burke and Shea.
" Wherever there's Kellys there's trouble," said Burke.
" Wherever fighting's the game, Or a spice of danger in grown man's work,"
Said Kelly, " you'll find my name." "And do we fall short," said Burke, getting mad,
" When it's touch and go for life ? " Said Shea, "It's thirty-odd years, bedad,
Since I charged to drum and fife Up Marye's Heights, and my old canteen
Stopped a rebel ball on its way. There were blossoms of blood on our sprigs of green —
Kelly and Burke and Shea — And the dead didn't brag." "Well, here's to the flag ! "
Said Kelly and Burke and Shea.
i Copyright by J. I. C. Clarke. By permission. |
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