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Sams Christmas Pudding

It was Christmas Day in the

In Spain in Penninsular War,

And Sam Small were cleaning his musketA thing as he'd ne're done before.

They'd had 'em inspected that

And Sam had got into disgrace,

For when sergeant had looked down the barrelA sparrow flew out in his face.

The sergeant reported the

To Lieutenant Bird then and there.

Said Lieutenant 'How very disgusting'The Duke must be told of this 'ere.'The Duke were upset when he

He said, 'I'm astonished,

I am.

I must make a most drastic

There'll be no Christmas pudding for Sam.'When Sam were informed of his

Surprise, rooted him to the spot.'Twas much worse than he had expected,

He thought as he'd only be shot.

And so he sat cleaning his

And polishing barrel and butt.

While the pudding his mother had sent him,

Lay there in the mud at his foot.

Now the centre that Sam's lot were

Ran around a place called Badajoz.

Where the Spaniards had put up a

And ooh …! what a bastion it was.

They pounded away all the

With canister, grape shot and ball.

But the face of the bastion defied them,

They made no impression at all.

They started again after

Bombarding as hard as they could.

And the Duke brought his own private

But that weren't a ha'pence o' good.

The Duke said, 'Sam, put down thy

And help me lay this gun true.'Sam answered, 'You'd best ask your

From them as you give pudding to.'The Duke looked at Sam so reproachful'And don't take it that way,' said he.'Us Generals have got to be

It hurts me more than it did thee.'Sam sniffed at these words kind of sceptic,

Then looked down the Duke's private gun.

And said 'We'd best put in two charges,

We'll never bust bastion with one.'He tipped cannon ball out of

He took out the wadding and all.

He filled barrel chock full of powder,

Then picked up and replaced the ball.

He took a good aim at the

Then said 'Right-o,

Duke, let her fly.'The cannon nigh jumped off her trunnions,

And up went the bastion, sky high.

The Duke, he weren't 'alf

He danced around trench full of glee.

And said, 'Sam, for this gallant action.

You can hot up your pudding for tea.'Sam looked 'round to pick up his

But it wasn't there, nowhere about.

In the place where he thought he had left it,

Lay the cannon ball he'd just tipped out.

Sam saw in a flash what 'ad happened:

By an unprecedented mishap.

The pudding his mother had sent him,

Had blown Badajoz off map.

That's why fuisilliers wear to this momentA badge which they think's a grenade.

But they're wrong … it's a brass reproduction,

Of the pudding Sam's mother once made.

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Marriott Edgar

Marriott Edgar (1880–1951), born George Marriott Edgar in Kirkcudbright, Scotland, was a poet, scriptwriter and comedian, best known for writing…

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