THE BOYVILLE CADETS

HARK! What is that clatter and patter of feet? The Boyville Cadets are half-way up the street! They march two by two, a most bloodthirsty horde, Led by Captain Tom Jones, with a big wooden sword. They’re mostly barelegged and coatless and brown, A make-believe army from all parts of town, With guns on their shoulders all whittled from lath, And woe to the foeman who crosses their path. Bob Brown has a fife and Bill Blake has a drum. See now in what martial procession they come; Jim Dobbs waves the flag with victorious flirt, A long willow pole with a red woolen shirt. And Corporal Brownlegs, he squints down the line: “Attention! Right shoulder! Guide right!” Oh, it’s fine To know you’ve no troubles, no worries, no debts, And march down the street with the Boyville Cadets! Now Sergeant Big Freckles cries, “Hep! Hep!” and “Hep!” To see that the army keeps right perfect step. And General Red Hair reins up with great force, To shout some command from his make-believe horse. Then Captain Tom Jones gives a formal salute, And rests his big sword on the toe of his boot, For woe to the foe that harasses or frets The solid platoon of the Boyville Cadets! Then Corporal Barefoot is ordered to scout For bloodthirsty redskins, and look all about. They march, single file, through the thick-growing trees, For favorite haunts of the red men are these. Far off in the woods, is an ear-splitting shout. Alas! ’Tis the death-cry of Barefoot, the scout! And now all the air rings with war-whoops and cries; Bang! bang! go the laths, and the red savage dies! A hand-to-hand fight, and the battle is done; In the orchard the redskins lie dead, every one. But, oh, woe is me! For all gory and red Lies Barefoot, the scout, by the red men struck dead! The Boyville Cadets lift him out of the dirt; They wrap him about with the old woolen shirt; And then, with drums muffled and heads sadly bowed, They bear him back home, with the flag for a shroud. Then General Red Hair, in orders, gives thanks To all of his soldiers, and bids them break ranks. For out of the distance he hears a shrill call: “Tom! Joe! Bill! Jim! Children! Why, where are you all?” Then Barefoot, the scout, to his life is restored, And Captain Tom Jones hides his big wooden sword; For there’s wood to be split and there’s water to get In the dull private life of the Boyville Cadet.