'Pick it oop' said the Sergeant, abrupt-like, but cool, But Sam with the shake of his head, Being that thou knocked it out of me 'and, Let thou pick the thing up, instead
As Sergeant walks past he was swinging his arms, And he happened to brush against Sam, And knocking his musket clean out of his hand, It fell to the ground with a slam
All excepting one man who was in the front rank, A man by the name of Sam Small, And 'im and the Sergeant were both 'daggers drawn', They thought 'nowt' of each other at all
It occurred on the evening before Waterloo, And troops were lined up on parade, The Sergeant inspecting 'em he was a terror, Of whom every man was afraid