Good luck to every sergeant , then , that lets us pick our road ; Bad luck to all the driver-men that can not pack a load : For we can wriggle and climb , my lads , and turn up everywhere , Oh , it 's our delight on a mountain height , with a leg or two to spare ! COMMISSARIAT CAMELS We have n't a camelty tune of our own To help us trollop along , But every neck is a hair trombone -LRB- Rtt-ta-ta-ta ! is a hair trombone ! -RRB- And this our marching-song : Ca n't ! Do n't ! Sha n't ! Wo n't ! Pass it along the line ! Somebody 's pack has slid from his back , Wish it were only mine ! Somebody 's load has tipped off in the road -- Cheer for a halt and a row ! Urrr ! Yarrh ! Grr ! Arrh ! Somebody 's catching it now ! ALL THE BEASTS TOGETHER Children of the Camp are we , Serving each in his degree ; Children of the yoke and goad , Pack and harness , pad and load . See our line across the plain , Like a heel-rope bent again , Reaching , writhing , rolling far , Sweeping all away to war ! While the men that walk beside , Dusty , silent , heavy-eyed , Can not tell why we or they March and suffer day by day . I JIMMY SKUNK IS PUZZLED Old Mother West Wind had just come down from the Purple Hills and turned loose her children , the Merry Little Breezes , from the big bag in which she had been carrying them . They were very lively and very merry as they danced and raced across the Green Meadows in all directions , for it was good to be back there once more .
Old Mother West Wind almost sighed as she watched them XXXXX a few minutes .
Like To along as by for from in of on