The Rank of Bugler Bill

Old Bill the 1^st Musician he was worried night an’ day;

He knew he warn’t a private yet just what he couldn’t say.

The Cap’n gave him side arms an’ he’d chevrons on his sleeve,

And thet he had a ranking he was anxious to believe.

He didn’t ask the Cap’n ‘cause he didn’t have the sand,

But why it warn’t explained him, well, he couldn’t understand.

So he says, “I’ll ask McSweeny, Mack will know just what I be,

‘Cause he’s been in the militia an’ he knows the game,” says he.

So he hunted up the sergeant, an’ he put it to him flat,

An’ McSweeny looked him over from beneath his floppy hat;

Then he straightway recollected how ol’ Bill would squawk the horn

Till it sounded from a distance like a wildcat in the corn;

So he straightened up his shoulders an’ he looked him in the eye,

Till ol’ Bill he felt like slippin’ from a ridgepole in the sky.

“What’s your rank as bugler? Why there ain’t none I recall,

You’re just rank, Bill,” says McSweeny, “simply rank Bill, that is all!”

Nov. 19, 1917