Charlie FrenchDid you ever find outWhich one of the O’Brien boys it wasWho snapped the toy pistol against my hand?There when the flags were red and whiteIn the breeze and “Bucky” EstilWas firing the cannon brought to Spoon RiverFrom Vicksburg by Captain Harris;And the lemonade stands were runningAnd the band was playing,To have it all spoiledBy a piece of a cap shot under the skin of my hand,And the boys all crowding about me saying:“You’ll die of lock-jaw, Charlie, sure.”Oh, dear! oh, dear!What chum of mine could have done it?
Did you ever find outWhich one of the O’Brien boys it wasWho snapped the toy pistol against my hand?There when the flags were red and whiteIn the breeze and “Bucky” EstilWas firing the cannon brought to Spoon RiverFrom Vicksburg by Captain Harris;And the lemonade stands were runningAnd the band was playing,To have it all spoiledBy a piece of a cap shot under the skin of my hand,And the boys all crowding about me saying:“You’ll die of lock-jaw, Charlie, sure.”Oh, dear! oh, dear!What chum of mine could have done it?