SENSE OR ——?

There’s a certain hard-hearted old censor (Which is not meaning any offence, sir) Who won’t let us tell, When we say “I’m quite well,” Where we’ve planted the water condenser. And that same stony-hearted old censor, When we speak of the shell-smoke as dense, sir, Will rule it out straight— And the same if we state That some of our non-coms, are denser. And yet this same rigid old censor (Whose business must now be immense, sir) Will let it go through— Tho’ he knows it’s not true— If we tell her our love grows intenser! But though mostly this rigid old censor Is a far stiffer bar than a fence, sir, Yet he let down the rails For our Christmas mails, So three jolly good cheers for the censor. C. D. Mc. (Sergt.).