(The Wounded Canadian Speaks) My Leg? It's Off At The Knee. Do I Miss It? Well, Some. You See I've Had It Since I Was Born; And Lately A Devilish Corn. (I Rather Chuckle With Glee To Think How I've Fooled That Corn.) But I'll Hobble Around All Right. It Isn't That, It's My Face. Oh I Know I'm A Hideous Sight, Hardly A Thing In Place; Sort Of Gargoyle, You'd Say. Nurse Won't Give Me A Glass, But I See The Folks As They Pass Shudder And Turn Away; Turn Away In Distress . . . Mirror Enough, I Guess. I'm Gay! You Bet I Am Gay; But I Wasn't A While Ago. If You'd Seen Me Even To-Day, The Darndest Picture Of Woe, With This Caliban Mug Of Mine, So Ravaged And Raw And Red, Turned To The Wall - In Fine, Wishing That I Was Dead. . . . What Has Happened Since Then, Since I Lay With My Face To The Wall, The Most Despairing Of Men? Listen! I'll Tell You All. That 'Poilu' Across The Way, With The Shrapnel Wound In His Head, Has A Sister: She Came To-Day To Sit Awhile By His Bed. All Morning I Heard Him Fret: "Oh, When Will She Come, Fleurette?" Then Sudden, A Joyous Cry; The Tripping Of Little Feet; The Softest, Tenderest Sigh; A Voice So Fresh And Sweet; Clear As A Silver Bell, Fresh As The Morning Dews: "C'Est Toi, C'Est Toi, Marcel! Mon Fr?Re, Comme Je Suis Heureuse!" So Over The Blanket'S Rim I Raised My Terrible Face, And I Saw - How I Envied Him! A Girl Of Such Delicate Grace; Sixteen, All Laughter And Love; As Gay As A Linnet, And Yet As Tenderly Sweet As A Dove; Half Woman, Half Child - Fleurette. Then I Turned To The Wall Again. (I Was Awfully Blue, You See), And I Thought With A Bitter Pain: "Such Visions Are Not For Me." So There Like A Log I Lay, All Hidden, I Thought, From View, When Sudden I Heard Her Say: "Ah! Who Is That 'Malheureux'?" Then Briefly I Heard Him Tell (However He Came To Know) How I'd Smothered A Bomb That Fell Into The Trench, And So None Of My Men Were Hit, Though It Busted Me Up A Bit. Well, I Didn't Quiver An Eye, And He Chattered And There She Sat; And I Fancied I Heard Her Sigh - But I Wouldn't Just Swear To That. And Maybe She Wasn't So Bright, Though She Talked In A Merry Strain, And I Closed My Eyes Ever So Tight, Yet I Saw Her Ever So Plain: Her Dear Little Tilted Nose, Her Delicate, Dimpled Chin, Her Mouth Like A Budding Rose, And The Glistening Pearls Within; Her Eyes Like The Violet: Such A Rare Little Queen - Fleurette. And At Last When She Rose To Go, The Light Was A Little Dim, And I Ventured To Peep, And So I Saw Her, Graceful And Slim, And She Kissed Him And Kissed Him, And Oh How I Envied And Envied Him! So When She Was Gone I Said In Rather A Dreary Voice To Him Of The Opposite Bed: "Ah, Friend, How You Must Rejoice! But Me, I'm A Thing Of Dread. For Me Nevermore The Bliss, The Thrill Of A Woman'S Kiss." Then I Stopped, For Lo! She Was There, And A Great Light Shone In Her Eyes. And Me! I Could Only Stare, I Was Taken So By Surprise, When Gently She Bent Her Head: "May I Kiss You, Sergeant?" She Said. Then She Kissed My Burning Lips With Her Mouth Like A Scented Flower, And I Thrilled To The Finger-Tips, And I Hadn't Even The Power To Say: "God Bless You, Dear!" And I Felt Such A Precious Tear Fall On My Withered Cheek, And Darn It! I Couldn't Speak. And So She Went Sadly Away, And I Knew That My Eyes Were Wet. Ah, Not To My Dying Day Will I Forget, Forget! Can You Wonder Now I Am Gay? God Bless Her, That Little Fleurette!