Punch/Volume 147/Issue 3826/Archibong

by Graves, C. L. and Lucas, E. V.

ARCHIBONG.

[Encouraged by the example of some eminent followers of Tyrtaeus, Mr. Punch has great pleasure in printing the following topical soldiers' song, composed by one of his young men after reading about a British force that seized Archibong in the Cameroons.]

O we're marching on to good old Archibong;
And we're going most particularly strong;
  For our beef is really "bully,"
  And they feed us very fully—
Yes, the feeding 's fit for any restaurong,
    Très bong,
Fit for any fust-class London restaurong.

What's the matter with the road to Archibong?
We didn't come out here to play ping-pong
  Or to get up a gymkhana—
  But we'll all have a banana
When we've driven back the Proosians to Hong Kong,
     Ding-dong,
When we've driven back the Proosians to Hong Kong.

What's the matter with the town of Archibong?
It isn't quite as lively as Boulong;
  But the name is very tuneful—
  Yes, I'll have another spoonful,
For I never liked my soda-water strong;
    It's wrong
For a man to drink his soda-water strong.

Then here's a parting cheer to Archibong,
Where the natives play divinely on the gong;
  It's not so cool and airy
  As the town of Tipperary,
But it's just as good for tittuping along
    In a song,
It's just as good for tittuping along.

 

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