Old is the song that I sing -- <br />Old as my unpaid bills -- <br />Old as the chicken that kitmutgars bring <br />Men at dak-bungalows -- old as the Hills. <br /> <br />Ahasuerus Jenkins of the "Operatic Own," <br />Was dowered with a tenor voice of super-Santley tone. <br />His views on equitation were, perhaps, a trifle queer. <br />He had no seat worth mentioning, but oh! he had an ear. <br /> <br />He clubbed his wretched company a dozen times a day; <br />He used to quit his charger in a parabolic way; <br />His method of saluting was the joy of all beholders, <br />But Ahasuerus Jenkins had a head upon his shoulders. <br /> <br />He took two months at Simla when the year was at the spring, <br />And underneath the deodars eternally did sing. <br />He warbled like a bul-bul but particularly at <br />Cornelia Agrippina, who was musical and fat. <br /> <br />She controlled a humble husband, who, in turn, controlled a Dept. <br />Where Cornelia Agrippina's human singing-birds were kept <br />From April to October on a plump retaining-fee, <br />Supplied, of course, per mensem, by the Indian Treasury. <br /> <br />Cornelia used to sing with him, and Jenkins used to play; <br />He praised unblushingly her notes, for he was false as they; <br />So when the winds of April turned the budding roses brown, <br />Cornelia told her husband: -- "Tom, you mustn't send him down." <br /> <br />They haled him from his regiment, which didn't much regret him; <br />They found for him an office-stool, and on that stool they set him <br />To play with maps and catalogues three idle hours a day, <br />And draw his plump retaining-fee -- which means his double pay. <br /> <br />Now, ever after dinnger, when the coffee-cups are brought, <br />Ahasuerus waileth o'er the grand pianoforte; <br />And, thanks to fair Cornelia, his fame hath waxen great, <br />And Ahasuerus Jenkins is a Power in the State!<br /><br />Rudyard Kipling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/army-headquarters/
