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Show THE THRIFT STAMP ARMY. By Elias Lieberman. OUT of the poor man's strain and stress, Out of the rich man's fruitf illness, Millions and millions of little me Assert the might of democracy. We come in squads, platoons and files ; Our ranks stretch out for many miles ; Proclaimed by neither fife nor drum Rut sure as Loyalty we come ! We come ! We come ! , Our silent army1 plods ahead, Our bugles never blow retreat ; Our ranks defy the whizzing lead, We fear not frost, we fear not heat, But grim as Death and like him dumb We march ahead. We come! We come! The rich man's feast, the poor man's crumb Alike-give life to us. We come! We come ! We come ! |