Army Headquarters

Old is the song that I sing-- Old as my unpaid bills-- Old as the chicken that kitmutgars bring Men at dak-bungalows--old as the Hills.

Ahasuerus Jenkins of the “Operatic Own” Was dowered with a tenor voice of super-Santley tone.

His views on equitation were, perhaps, a trifle queer; He had no seat worth mentioning, but oh! he had an ear.

He clubbed his wretched company a dozen times a day, He used to quit his charger in a parabolic way, His method of saluting was the joy of all beholders, But Ahasuerus Jenkins had a head upon his shoulders.

He took two months to Simla when the year was at the spring, And underneath the deodars eternally did sing.

He warbled like a bulbul, but particularly at Cornelia Agrippina who was musical and fat.

She controlled a humble husband, who, in turn, controlled a Dept., Where Cornelia Agrippina's human singing-birds were kept From April to October on a plump retaining fee, Supplied, of course, per mensem, by the Indian Treasury.

Cornelia used to sing with him, and Jenkins used to play; He praised unblushingly her notes, for he was false as they: So when the winds of April turned the budding roses brown, Cornelia told her husband: “Tom, you mustn't send him down.”

They haled him from his regiment which didn't much regret him; They found for him an office-stool, and on that stool they set him, To play with maps and catalogues three idle hours a day, And draw his plump retaining fee--which means his double pay.

Now, ever after dinner, when the coffeecups are brought, Ahasuerus waileth o'er the grand pianoforte; And, thanks to fair Cornelia, his fame hath waxen great, And Ahasuerus Jenkins is a power in the State.