BY THE CAMP FIRE.

Taranaki Herald, Volume XLVIII, Issue 11738, 3 February 1900, Page 3 (Supplement)

BY THE CAMP FIRE.

I am writing this letter, dear mother, By the light of the camp fire, and so You must pardon the scrawl and think only That it comes from the hand of your Joe. For a desk I am using a knapsack, And my pen through rough service has been ; So what with one thing and another, Tht3 letter's not fit to be seen. j j * | But I know you won't think of the writing, If ever ifc reaches jour hand, When you know that it comes from i -your soldier Away from his bom? md bis land. Safe— though he's been plugged by a rebel, But nothing your soul to alarm ; j Changed, too, from the one you remember, 1 Who was plonghboy at Muckleby's Farja. I * I Yes, I've altered a bit since yon saw ! me ' (How quickly the years pass away!) ; I'm as broad now and big as there's any ' ' In the old Forty-third, so they say. I've wtathered the blast of a canrpaign, And I've been many times under fire; And you scarcely would recognise Joseph In this stalwart T. Atkins, Esquire. « But I'm writiDgto tell you of something Which I know your kind heart will delight ; You remember the Bible you gave me ? I've borne it in mauy a fight. But it's been something more than a # safeguard Against the bombardment of wrong, For it shie!d?n your boy from a bulled, 'Ueath the fire of the foe, hot and strong. Ay, that fiyht, shall I ever forget ifc ? When the black shields were ranging around, Ahd tbe awful war chant of the foemen Roiled in a vast volume of sound. Then a scene which defies ail description When we ,waited and longed for the word ; Then into the deat'i and the danger Dashed onward the old Fotty-third. I remember our brave Colonel failing Unhorsed in tbe first rti3h we made, Then the flash of a spear lifted skywards — Bat I was there, mother, to aid. One thrnst and the foe had departed Where never a war-song is heard ; And our Colonel again had dashed onward At the head of the old Forty-thirJ. But he spoke to me, ay, and he thanked me, 'Ere he plunged in the melee once more : - 'You seved my life, Corporal Jenkins, You're a credit, ray lad, to your corps; If I live I'll repay your brave action." Why, with his kind words I was paid. I was once or twice wounded soon after, Mere scratches, so don't be afraid. | ' But it was when tho foe were retiring, And firing on ns as they went, That a bullet in search of a billet, Right in my direction was sent. IJelt a dull pain in my bosom, And then T remembered no morq Till I heard the victorious shouting, 1 And knew that the battle was o'er. Bat ff;he Bible you're thinking of,' mother, On the pallet beside me it lay, W'th a hole cleanly driiled through its cover, Where the missile of death ploughed its way. But the bright steel 'that garnished those covers Had turned it aside in its flight ; > Ay, but ior the Book that I carried, I would have been slain in that fight. You'll see me again, my dear mother, The same, and yet not quite the same ; For the soldier that's coming to greet you Has Sergeant in front of his name. Scarred a bit, bronzed a deal by the climate. But he'll carry tbe stripes on bi=> arm. Just tancy, and onco I dug turnip Up Nortb on old Mnckleby's Farm. Not only a Serjeant you'll spo him. ' But "with "V.C." tacked on to his name ; For the deed that he did for his Colonel Will win him the Cross known to lame. Bnt sergeant or hero, dear another, Still ia boul and in heart, as yon know. He's theisame as old Muchleby's ploughboy, Ay, «ver your loving. 9on Joe. Kate Bishop (Kay Bee"), in P.I.P.