The General sat on the top of his horse,
Leading his troops in battle, of course.
“When they sound the advance,
don’t go into a dance,
just follow my sign
and move off in line.
Follow me as I go,
after the foe”.
The bugler sounded the charge
and as a large body of men
they moved forward and then,
saw that the Marshal,
although very partial,
just couldn’t move,
his horse stuck in a groove.
The whole of the troop, one hundred and nine,
continued to move, forward in line.
They kept up their advance,
as if in a trance,
carrying before them, sabre and lance.
He watched them go past,
each one to the last.
They’d moved forward,
just, as he’d ordered.
Now he gave a nudge,
but the horse wouldn’t budge.
The only thing he did find,
that instead of in front, he was now far behind.
Watching his troops march into war,
right in the face of the great cannon roar.
Now, it’s sad to relate,
of this tale of fate.
But, I was to find,
the poor Marshal was blind.
What is more, the horse that he mounted,
just couldn’t be counted.
For it was one of those,
on which we hang clothes.
Please be careful, where you hang your washing.
Better still, buy a Tumble Dryer.