—— THE PASSING OF THE CAMPAIGN HAT. ——

"The campaign hat is going; 'twill soon be tres passé— The winds of war got under it and blew it far away; The General (he who owned it) cussed, as Generals sometimes do: "Get us," he cried, "a hat to stick; with this blank kind I'm through!" His orderly picked up the hat, all battered, torn and frayed, "Quite right," he ruminated, "you won't do for parade; Yet, good old lid, you've got your place—perhaps not over here, But there are regions in the States that hold your memory dear."

"The shadow of your ugly shape has blacked the Western plains; It brought relief to border towns all soaked with tropic rains; The sight of you, at column's head, made redskins turn and flee,— O'er barren land you've led the van that fights for Liberty. The Filipino knows you; his protection you have meant, And the wily Pancho Villa never dared to try and dent The contour of your homely crown or chip your wobbly brim,— You, old chapeau, spelt business; and that left no room for him!

"From far Alaska's ice-bound coast to Porto Rico's strand, You've kept the sun and rain and sleet from Uncle Sam'yal's band; You've stood for no blame nonsense, and you've brooked no talking back, And cleaner towns and cities fair have sprung up in your track. You—what's the use?—you've been there since the days of 'Ninety-Eight— You've weathered twenty years of squalls—and now you get the gate! But you're too good a soldier, old dip, to cuss or cry; So—(there he heaved it into space)—goodby, old hat; goodby!"