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 for a few minutes . She felt that she would like to join them . Always the springtime made her feel this way , -- young , mad , carefree , and happy . But she had work to do . She had to turn the windmill to pump water for Farmer Brown 's cows , and this was only one of many mills standing idle as they waited for her . So she puffed her cheeks out and started about her business .
Jimmy Skunk sat at the top of the hill that overlooks the Green XXXXX and watched her out of sight .
Arrh Camp Grr Hills Meadows Mother Urrr Yarrh day war