MUSINGS OF A MULE 51 



the other type shown by the artist has his many uses. The latter may be 

 well bred on the dam's side because he is weedy, with a horse's line coat and 

 shorter ears ; he is also hght of bone, too long in the leg, flat-sided, and both 

 forelegs seem to come out of the same hole as it were. Yet it is true of mules 

 that they work in all shapes ; for if it were not so there would be no place for 

 the many that do not correspond with the artist's conception of the ideal type 

 of draught mule. One of the many wonders of the war has certainly to do with 

 the tens of thousands of mules transported from the W'estern to the Eastern 

 Hemisphere and now actively pursuing the big part assigned them in the Great 

 Adventure. 



Musings of a Mule 



I AM only a common or garden mule 



Who was bred in the U.S.A. 



I was born in a barn on a Western farm 



Many thousands of miles away 



From where I am munching a Government lunch 



At Great Britain's expense to-day. 



With dozens of others I knew, and have seen, 



In my Little Grey Home in the West, 



Where the grazing was succulent, luscious and green, 



And Life was a bit of a jest, 



I have sniffed the salt breeze blowing over the seas 



And I've landed in France with the rest. 



The journey was horrid — a horrible dream 



Was the loading — its shindy and row 



And the people expecting a moke to be keen 



To swarm up a frightening " brow " 



And slither down ramps that were greasy and damp 



To a standing unfit for a cow. 



They packed us like herrings 'way down in the hold, 



With never a thought nor a care 



For animals worthy more Government gold 



Than all of the rest who were there ; 



And the best spot, of course, was reserved for the horse, 



Who had to have plenty of air. 



Well, we jibbed and we strafed and we kicked the Light Draught 



And I planted my heels in the hide 



Of a man on the ship who was flicking a whip 



And whose manners I could not abide ; 



But I've travelled so often since then in the trucks 



I have learnt how to swallow my pride, 



And I go where I'm put without lifting a foot 



For a rag song and dance on the side. 



