Some Hard Questions

            I.

The feller on my knee

     Says he,

“What is the war about?

What makes they shoot each other down,

An’ blow up ships an’ all get drown’,

Why can’t they do without?”

     Says he, to me.

            II.

The feller on my knee

     Says he,

“An’ has you got to go?

An’ is you goin’ to leave mamma,

An’ me an’ march away so far?

You’ll sorry be, I know,”

     Says he, to me.

            III.

The feller on my knee,

     Says he,

“Will you come back again?”

I laid him down, I could not speak,

A tear fell on his upturned cheek;

“I hate old cruel Spain,”

     Says he to me.

June 18, ‘98

Pub. in Truth,

July 20, – 1898

   #587