His Father

I quite forgot to put the spigot in:
It's just come over me. . . . And it is queer
To think he'll not care if we lose or win,
And yet be jumping-mad about that beer.

I left it running full. He must have said
A thing or two. I'd give my stripes to hear
What he will say if I'm reported dead
Before he gets me told about that beer!
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