Chorus III.

Umbugonian National Anthem.

Must.:

A bitter and protracted struggle lies before us, in which the dastardly enemy will commit every form of barbarity the newspaper mind can conceive. You have the atrocity stories all prepared, Doolittell? Good, Notwithstanding the worst our foes caan do, our invincible shirttails will march forward with grim determination, knowing they carry the torch of civilization to the hovels and hayricks of the backward peoples of the earth. We have taken up the White Man's Burden, Victory shall be ours.

Voices:

Hail, Victory!

Must.:

Aye, glorious victory. Onward, my brave soldiers. I am prepared to lose a million of you. What our country needs is men, more men, and still more men.

Enter Cuthberts, dragging in Junior.

Cuthberts:

Magnificence! Disloyalty, treachery, mutiny...

Must.:

What is the meaning of this?

Clerk 2.:

Magnificence! He has deserted.

Must.:

What...deserted already?

Clerk 3:

Yes he was caught in the act of enlisting as a soldier.

Junior:

I only wanted to fight for my country.

Must.:

Your country! Your country. Who told you it was your country?.

Junior:

If it ain't, then whose country is it?

Must.:

The boy's mad. Sack him.

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page 12 Cuthberts (passing Junior from one to another):

You're sacked... sacked...sacked...sacked...sacked!

Junior is thrown out.

Must.:

Now...you gentlemen...if clerks can be called gentlemen... prepare yourselves for active service.

Cuthberts (falling on their kness):

No, no, Sire.

Must. (kindly):

Have no fear, gentlemen. You will all be appointed to the General Staff.

Clerk 4:

But, Sire...we know nothing about warfare.

Must.:

Did you ever hear of a staff officer who did? I do not expect efficiency or intelligence from supperior officers. But remember this...if a common soldier falls to exhibits these qualities...shoot him without mercy.

Cuthberts (saluting cheerily):

Aye, aye, sir.

Must. (to clerk 1, who has not been included in the foregoing):

As for you, you miserable..muddling...messing..humbugging.. crawling..licks pittling..craven..incompetent..halfwitted nincompoop.. out for nothing but an ornamental tailor's dummy.. unable to deal with such a simple thing as the delivery of a telegram without making an ungodly mess of it..you have shown such an aptitude for impecility that I can only regard you as an administrative genius. You shall be my Chief of General Staff..the Supreme Commander of my Armies in the Field.

Clerk 1 (overcome):

Sire...

Must.:

Do not protest, I pray you. The more fantastic the muddling, the more glorious the war. Hullo, what is this now,

Enter Teaypists, each bearing a white feather.

Hum, there are shirkers in this establishment, it seems.

For whom are these white feathers, young ladies?

Teaypistes (in unison curtseying):

For Cuthbert, Magnificence.

Must.:

Ha, ha. Carrying coals to Newcastle. There is no need, ladies. Your roosters will shortly be the heroes of the War.

Teaypistes (in unison):

What, soldiers?

Must.:

Soldiers! No...Staff Officers...brass hats.

Teaypistes:

Oh.

They fall into arms of Cuthberts.

Must.:

That's the stuff. You shall marry these brave fellows before they join the army. Then you shall take their places in this office. I am tired of having effiminates about me. There's a war on, everybody! No time is to be lost! To work! To work!

All dance.

Must. (after the dance):

And now for some patriotic noises.

Chorus IV Air: "Land of Hope and Glory".

Then all give Nozi salute to audience, finishing up with thumbs to noses.

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