The Drum

I'm a beautiful red, red drum,     And I train with the soldier boys;     As up the street we come,     Wonderful is our noise!     There's Tom, and Jim, and Phil,     And Dick, and Nat, and Fred,     While Widow Cutler's Bill     And I march on ahead,     With a r-r-rat-tat-tat     And a tum-titty-um-tum-tum -     Oh, there's bushels of fun in that     For boys with a little red drum!     The Injuns came last night     While the soldiers were abed,     And they gobbled a Chinese kite     And off to the woods they fled!     The woods are the cherry-trees     Down in the orchard lot,     And the soldiers are marching to seize     The booty the Injuns got.     With tum-titty-um-tum-tum,     And r-r-rat-tat-tat,     When soldiers marching come     Injuns had better scat!     Step up there, little Fred,     And, Charley, have a mind!     Jim is as far ahead     As you two are behind!     Ready with gun and sword     Your valorous work to do -     Yonder the Injun horde     Are lying in wait for you.     And their hearts go pitapat     When they hear the soldiers come     With a r-r-rat-tat-tat     And a tum-titty-um-tum-tum!     Course it's all in play!     The skulking Injun crew     That hustled the kite away     Are little white boys, like you!     But "honest" or "just in fun,"     It is all the same to me;     And, when the battle is won,     Home once again march we     With a r-r-rat-tat-tat     And tum-titty-um-tum-tum;     And there's glory enough in that     For the boys with their little red drum!