  What is the song the children sing When doorway lilacs bloom in Spring, And the Schools are loosed, and the games are played That were deadly earnest when Earth was made? Hear them chattering, shrill and hard, After dinner-time, out in the yard, As the sides are chosen and all submit To the chance of the lot that shall make them “It.” (Singing) “Eenee, Meenee, Mainee, Mo! Catch a nigger by the toe! If he hollers let him go Eenee, Meenee, Mainee, Mo! You—are—It!” Eenee, Meenee, Mainee, and Mo Were the First Big Four of the Long Ago, When the Pole of the Earth sloped thirty degrees, And Central Europe began to freeze, To steady the Tribes in the gathering dark: But the frost was fierce and flesh was frail, So they launched a Magic that could not fail. (Singing) “Eenee, Meenee, Mainee, Mo! Hear the wolves across the snow! Someone has to kill ’em—so Eenee, Meenee, Mainee, Mo Make—you—It!” Slowly the Glacial Epoch passed, Central Europe thawed out at last; And, under the slush of the melting snows, The first dim shapes of the Nations rose. Rome, Britannia, Belgium, Gaul— Flood and avalanche fathered them all; And the First Big Four, as they watched the mess, Pitied Man in his helplessness. (Singing) “Eenee, Meenee, Mainee, Mo! Trouble starts when Nations grow. Someone has to stop it—so Eenee, Meenee, Mainee, Mo Make—you—It!” What was the Power behind the spell— Fear, or Duty, or Pride, or Faith— That sent men shuddering out to death— To cold and watching, and, worse than these, Work, more work, when they looked for ease— To the day’s discomfort, the night’s despair, In the hope of a prize that they never would share. (Singing) “Eenee, Meenee, Mainee, Mo! Man is born to toil and woe. One will cure the other—so Eenee, Meenee, Mainee, Mo Make—you—It.” Once and again, as the Ice went North The grass crept up to the Firth of Forth. Once and again, as the Ice came South The glaciers ground over Lossiemouth. But, grass or glacier, cold or hot, Men went out who would rather not, To hammer the world into decent shape. (Singing) “Eenee, Meenee, Mainee, Mo! What’s the use of doing so? Ask the Gods, for we don’t know; But Eenee, Meenee, Mainee, Mo Make—us—It!” Nothing is left of that terrible rune But a tag of gibberish tacked to a tune That ends the waiting and settles the claims Of children arguing over their games; For never yet has a boy been found To shirk his turn when the turn came round; Or even a girl has been known to say “If you laugh at me I sha’n’t play.” For— “Eenee, Meenee, Mainee, Mo, Don’t you let the grown-ups know! You may hate it ever so, But if you’re chose you’re bound to go, When Eenee, Meenee, Mainee, Mo Make—you—It!” THE END 1. Pack your kit and trek, Ferriera, Pack your kit and trek. A long pull, all on one side, Johnnie with the lame leg. 2. Beaten. 3. Red necks—English soldiers. 4. Remember, the Chinaman generally says “l” for “r.” 5. A kind of sticky sweatmeat. 6. Bordeaux snails are specially large and sweet. 7. They grill pigs’-feet still at St. Menehoulde, not far from Verdun, better than anywhere else in all France. 8. Gone—to get pÂtÉs of ducks’ liver at Toulouse; fatted poultry at Bourg in Bresse, on the road to Geneva; and very large chestnuts in sugar at Carcassonne about forty miles from Toulouse. 9. This would probably be some sort of wild boar ham from Germany. 10. Expensive. 11. Beaten up. 12. Sneer or despise. 13. Brings him to table. 14. Starve. 15. The Pope himself, who depends on his cook for being healthy and well-fed. 16. Dispute or argument. 17. Men are influenced by their cooks as ships are steered by their rudders. 18. Never mind. 19. Ithuriel was that Archangel whose spear had the magic property of showing everyone exactly and truthfully what he was. TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
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