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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357712" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Old Town Types</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I can not recall his heyday; for I knew him in the day<br>When his curly hair had thinned a bit, his waxed moustache grown grey.<br>That he kept the local fruit shop was a trifle in life's plan;<br>For our Captain Curly Taplin was a military man.<br>The details of his uniform grow vague now and remote,<br>All save a pipeclayed helmet and a gaudy scarlet coat.<br>'Not the Prooshians nor the Rooshians,' Captain Taplin oft averred,<br>'Shall take this country from us! Harrumph! My Word!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our Captain Curly Taplin was the pride of our old town,<br>Most especially the ladies; for that military frown,<br>That piercing eye, the gruff command that rumbled in his throat,<br>The fiercely spiked and waxed moustache, the glowing scarlet coat<br>Were ideal in the female eye. When our militiamen<br>Marched out - ah, what a figure was our gallant captain then -<br>A figure that, in these dull days, might seem a shade absurd,<br>But - 'My men are drilled and ready, sir! Harrumph! My Word!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then came dread news that sent him straight to don his scarlet coat:<br>Our cables had been severed, and the Russians were afloat!<br>He, wait for orders? Fiddlesticks! He mobilised his force,<br>He hung his shop about with flags and yelled till he was hoarse.<br>He led them out for marches, for parade drills, practice shoots.<br>Tho, as sergeant Jack McFee remarked, ''Twas awfu' hard on boots.'<br>But the captain failed to scent a hoax when nothing more occurred;<br>For, 'We've still to watch them Rooshians, sir! Harrumph! My Word!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They hurried him, up by the hill, one day long, long ago<br>With full military honors; and I deem it fitting so.<br>For this archetype of Diggers, in the fights he was denied,<br>Would have fallen just as gamely as his grandsons later died;<br>For he fiercely loved the freedom that this green land offered him,<br>And, despite his vast vainglory and his posturing so grim,<br>There was something sacrificial in that eagerness absurd<br>For - 'One chance to face them Rooshians, sir! Harrumph! My Word!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Clarence+Michael+James+Stanislaus+Dennis">Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357712" data-title="Old Town Types de Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis" data-description="I can not recall his heyday; for I knew him in the day
When his curly hair had thinned a bit, his waxed moustache grown grey.
That he kept the local fruit shop was a trifle in life's plan;
For our Captain Curly Taplin was a military man.
The detai..."></div>
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