OCR Interpretation

The Rio Grande rattler. ([McAllen], Hidalgo County, Tex.) 1916-1917, November 27, 1917, Image 25

Image and text provided by New York State Military History Museum

Persistent link: http://www.nyshistoricnewspapers.org/lccn/sn87030234/1917-11-27/ed-1/seq-25/

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THE WADSWORTH GAS ATTACK a n d RIO GRANDE RATTLER HTJNKA TIN. Yon may talk about your voitures When you’re sitting round the quarters, But when it comes to getting blesses in, Take a little tip from me, Let those heavy mortars be, Pin your faith to Henry F.’s old Hunka Tin. Give her essence and cle l’eau. Crank her up and let her go, You back fir in’, spark plug foulin’ Hunka Tin. The paint is not so good, And 110 d'oubt you’ll find the hood, Will rattle like a boiler shop en route; The cooler’s sure to boil, And perhaps she’s leakin’ oil, Then of ten time the horn declines to toot. But when the night is black, And there’s blesses to take back, And they hardly give you time to take a smoke, It’s mighty good to feel, When you’re sitting at the wheel, She’ll be running when the bigger cars are broke. After all the wars are past, And we’re taken home at last, To our reward of which the preacher sings, When these ukulele sharps Will be strumming golden harps, And the aviators all have reg’lar wings, When the Kaiser is in hell, With the furnace drawing well, Paying for his million different kinds of sin, If they’re running short of coal, Show me how to reach the hole. And I’ll cast a few loads down with Hunka Tin. Yes, Tin, Tin, Tin, You exasperating puzzle, Hunka Tin, I’ve abused you and I ’ve flayed you, But, by Henry Ford', who made you, You are better than a Packard, Hunka Tin. —From the American Field Service Bulletin, Paris. THERE AIN’T NO MORE, Oh, I can scoff a dish of beans, A plate of slum or two, My plate is ready when they say: “Hot Java cornin’ thru! ” But these are words that I hate to hear, It always makes me sore, If, when I’m started, someone says: “Too bad, there ain’t 110 more!” Yes, I can eat a plate of spuds, A yard of punk, to boot, Bull, gravy, dogs and sinkers, Are all my long suit. One slice of canned Bill’s easy; I’ve often eaten four And then have been disappointed Because “there ain’t no more.” We’ve turkey on Thanksgiving, New Year’s and Christmas day; I’m first to look for seconds, Eat all that come my way, And never think of quitting, Till through the kitcen door I hear the cook a-calling: “That’s all. There ain’t no more.” : We have enlarged our Plant at cost of $30,000.00. To cater to the boys’ business of the 27th Division. Our Plant has the approval of your Sanitary au­ thorities. Our quality and service is of the highest standard, and we are the largest Pie Baking Concern in the South. Our daily output 36,000 Pies, 12,000 Crullers and Doughnuts. S outh liberty S t . S pa r t a n b u r g , s . C. PHONE 1711 name/ w are J* T in '‘W a re J ~SWooden ^Ware J G a lvanized '‘W a re «§■> of E v e r y D escription. I Oil Stoves For Tents I 154 N. CHURCH ST. ■ , R T A N 1 U R G ❖ Got Pads, Blankets, Pillows, Sheets, Towels and Pillow Gases. Leather, Spiral and Can* vas Puttees. Chevrons, Hat Gords and Insignia. Sheep Lined Goats, G. D. Sleeve and Sleeveless Sweaters. ALL AT FAIR PRICES

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