Home they come from Cuba Libre;

And they march with hastening feet

Underneath the floating banners,

When you cheer your sunburnt heroes,

Don’t forget their pensioners small,

Led along, or perched on shoulder,

Four-foot, furry “mascots” all!

Comrades of the march and bivouac,

Sharers of the cup and can,

All unconscious of their portion

In the drama played by man.

Did they bring, perchance, good fortune

(As they brought their owners joy)?

Ask the youth who owns the “mascot”—

For a soldier’s but a boy!