The Complete Poetical Works of Rudyard Kipling - Rudyard Kipling

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Pegs I drank when I was dry—

       This observe for old sake's sake.

      To the railway station hie,

       There a single ticket take

       For Umballa—goods-train—I

       Shall not mind delay or shake.

      I shall rest contentedly

       Spite of clamor coolies make;

       Thus in state and dignity

       Send me up for old sake's sake.

      Next the sleepy Babu wake,

       Book a Kalka van "for four."

       Few, I think, will care to make

       Journeys with me any more

       As they used to do of yore.

      I shall need a "special" break—

       Thing I never took before—

       Get me one for old sake's sake.

      After that—arrangements make.

      No hotel will take me in,

       And a bullock's back would break

       'Neath the teak and leaden skin

       Tonga ropes are frail and thin,

       Or, did I a back-seat take,

       In a tonga I might spin,—

       Do your best for old sake's sake.

      After that—your work is done.

      Recollect a Padre must

       Mourn the dear departed one—

       Throw the ashes and the dust.

      Don't go down at once. I trust

       You will find excuse to "snake

       Three days' casual on the bust."

       Get your fun for old sake's sake.

      I could never stand the Plains.

       Think of blazing June and May

       Think of those September rains

       Yearly till the Judgment Day!

       I should never rest in peace,

       I should sweat and lie awake.

      Rail me then, on my decease,

       To the Hills for old sake's sake.

       Table of Contents

      It was an artless Bandar, and he danced upon a pine,

       And much I wondered how he lived, and where the beast might dine,

       And many, many other things, till, o'er my morning smoke,

       I slept the sleep of idleness and dreamt that Bandar spoke.

      He said: "O man of many clothes! Sad crawler on the Hills!

       Observe, I know not Ranken's shop, nor Ranken's monthly bills;

       I take no heed to trousers or the coats that you call dress;

       Nor am I plagued with little cards for little drinks at Mess.

      "I steal the bunnia's grain at morn, at noon and eventide,

       (For he is fat and I am spare), I roam the mountain side,

       I follow no man's carriage, and no, never in my life

       Have I flirted at Peliti's with another Bandar's wife.

      "O man of futile fopperies—unnecessary wraps;

       I own no ponies in the hills, I drive no tall-wheeled traps;

       I buy me not twelve-button gloves, 'short-sixes' eke, or rings,

       Nor do I waste at Hamilton's my wealth on 'pretty things.'

      "I quarrel with my wife at home, we never fight abroad;

       But Mrs. B. has grasped the fact I am her only lord.

      I never heard of fever—dumps nor debts depress my soul;

       And I pity and despise you!" Here he poached my breakfast-roll.

      His hide was very mangy, and his face was very red,

       And ever and anon he scratched with energy his head.

       His manners were not always nice, but how my spirit cried

       To be an artless Bandar loose upon the mountain side!

      So I answered: "Gentle Bandar, an inscrutable Decree

       Makes thee a gleesome fleasome Thou, and me a wretched Me.

       Go! Depart in peace, my brother, to thy home amid the pine;

       Yet forget not once a mortal wished to change his lot for thine."

       Table of Contents

      Argument.—The Indian Government being minded to discover the economic

       condition of their lands, sent a Committee to inquire into it; and saw that it

       was good.

      Scene.—The wooded heights of Simla. The Incarnation of

       the Government of India in the raiment of the Angel of Plenty

       sings, to pianoforte accompaniment:—

      "How sweet is the shepherd's sweet life!

       From the dawn to the even he strays—

       And his tongue shall be filled with praise.

      (adagio dim.) Filled with praise!"

      (largendo con sp.) Now this is the position,

       Go make an inquisition

       Into their real condition

       As swiftly as ye may.

      (p) Ay, paint our swarthy billions

       The richest of vermillions

       Ere two well-led cotillions

       Have danced themselves away.

      Turkish Patrol, as able and intelligent Investigators wind

       down the Himalayas:—

      What is the state of the Nation? What is its occupation?

       Hi! get along, get along, get along—lend us the information!

       (dim.) Census the byle and the yabu—capture a first-class Babu,

       Set him to file Gazetteers—Gazetteers...

      (ff) What is the state of the Nation, etc., etc.

      Interlude, from Nowhere in Particular, to stringed and Oriental

       instruments.

      Our cattle reel beneath the yoke they bear—

       The earth is iron and the skies are brass—

       And faint with fervour of the flaming air

       The languid hours pass.

      The well is dry beneath the village tree—

       The young wheat withers ere it reach a span,

       And belts of blinding sand show cruelly

       Where once the river ran.

      Pray, brothers, pray, but to no earthly King—

       Lift up your hands above the blighted grain,

       Look westward—if they please, the Gods shall bring

       Their mercy with

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