The Works of Rudyard Kipling ...

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Сторінка 189 - Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!" Come you back to Mandalay, Where the old Flotilla lay: Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay? On the road to Mandalay, Where the flyin'-fishes play, An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
Сторінка 103 - Open the old cigar-box — let me consider anew — Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon you ? A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke; And a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a Smoke.
Сторінка 189 - Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst, Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an...
Сторінка 147 - ills, The Boers knocked us silly at a mile, The Burman give us Irriwaddy chills, An' a Zulu impi dished us up in style : But all we ever got from such as they Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us swaller; We 'eld our bloomin' own, the papers say, But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us 'oiler.
Сторінка 146 - FORCE) WE'VE fought with many men acrost the seas, An' some of 'em was brave an' some was not The Paythan an' the Zulu an' Burmese; But the Fuzzy was the finest o
Сторінка 140 - It's bitter cold, it's bitter cold," the Colour-Sergeant said. " What makes that front-rank man fall down? " said Files-on-Parade. " A touch o' sun, a touch o' sun," the Colour-Sergeant said. They are hangin' Danny Deever, they are marchin...
Сторінка 143 - For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' 'Tommy, wait outside ' ; But it's 'Special train for Atkins...
Сторінка 25 - There were two men in one city ; the one rich, and the other poor. The rich man had exceeding many flocks and herds: but the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe lamb, which he had bought and nourished up : and it grew up together with him, and with his children; it did eat of his own meat, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom, and was unto him...
Сторінка 160 - E would dot an' carry one Till the longest day was done; An' 'e didn't seem to know the use o' fear. If we charged or broke or cut, You could bet your bloomin' nut, 'E'd be waitin' fifty paces right flank rear.

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