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Show "The Slacker" V By W. H. Whitney, 145th Artillery ) I As he Bits with his fellow comrades, in the mesa hall's dismal cheer, -And they talk of the times when they, too, were far from this bleak frontier, ' : Is it Btrange that their thoughts should turn back to the joys of days gone by? And the thought of the men known as slackers puts blood in the soldier's eye. - Js It strange that the men who have given their future ambitions and all, And who sacrificed all of their feelings, for the sake of America's call? ' . Is it strange that they look on the slacker,' who has thrived on the fat of ' the land, ' . '.:.,.,' . ' A- : - And pronounce him a white-livered scoundrel and a traitor to Uncle Sam? All men were created equal, so our greatest philosophers say. And all should shoulder the burden equally day by day. Then, why not, when one's country needs him, follow this elegant plan, And not let the blue-blooded fellow fight for the slacker man? I This soldier's words to the slacker Is only a meager attempt : 'T To interpret the hearts of thousands and express their utter contempt For the man who will put on his "dicky," extract cigarettes there from, Light one, and strut for his lady on the night of the Junior "prom." Cock of the walk his ambition and cock of the walk his belief. No man in .the world can approach him, no man can suffer him grief. Why should he join the army, he's contented with civil life? There's no music inspiring his manhood to the sound of the drum and the - As you dance this year at the Utah, think not of the soldier man, But have a good time with your lady, enjoy your life if you can. ' ( You'd better enjoy it, brother, right now while you hold the full sway, " ;. For the end of the war is coming and the dawn of the judgment day. f" , We don't need you to lick the kaiser, we don't want you to fight, Just remember, the men of this country will return when their duty's done; It may be a matter of years, boys,, yet It may be a matter of weeks, But the innermost soul of the man, boy, prompts the action, and action speaks. Oh, we'll dance, too, you needn't feel "cocky," we'll dance to a livelier tune Than you who dance at the Utah 'neath the rays of a silvery moon. And we'll sing as we march through Paris, in lieu of the Junto dance; And we'll dance as we fight for freedom on the war-ridden plains of France. Now, just a word to the ladies, who will always remain the same: Pleasure and luxury seeking, e'en with men who would not play the game, Why don't you sacrifice something In response to the president's call. And not have your height of ambition reach just to the banquet hall? Can't you see it's for you we enlisted, for you that we're willing to fight? You should do all you can to lead us in the rays of a heavenly light, For you have the power of guidance, either for right or wrong, And the man who has your inspiration can fight with his heartfull of song. Hooverize, save and be humble, contented to stay at home and knit For the men who are guarding your freedom and the men who are doinjt their bit Carry no thought for the slacker force him to see his mistake I or the greatest majority are cowards, and their claims for exemption a fake. Of course, there are hundreds of fel Iws who have tried, but to no avail These men have a place with our number, when duty called they didn't fail And when we return from the conflict, after fighting in foreign lands, Each one of us, tired and weary, will be eager to shake their hands. We know them and they needn't worry, nor take the above lines to heart; For we know they' have done their duty and were willing to shoulder their impart. im-part. .. f GH' . Although we regret that they're missing, it Is better they stay in Salt Lake'' ' To take care of our interests in Utah . which the slackers ore eager to take. -Take care of our girls from these fellows, make that your part In the game. 1 ! While we introduce to the kaiser the men who made Utah's fame, And we'll never be back till it's over and we make the kaiser submit. To the superior brain of our president, backed up by real Yankee grit. |