Rudyard Kipling

Now this is the Law of the Jungle—as old and as true as the sky;

And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die.As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk, the Law runneth forward and back;

For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.

‘There is none like to me!' says the Cub in the pride of his earliest kill;

But the jungle is large and the Cub he is small. Let him think and be still.

It is the hardest thing in the world to frighten a mongoose, because he is eaten up from nose to tail with curiosity. The motto of all the mongoose family is “Run and find out,” and Rikki-tikki was a true mongoose.

If you read the old books of natural history, you will find they say that when the mongoose fights the snake and happens to get bitten, he runs off and eats some herb that cures him. That is not true. The victory is only a matter of quickness of eye and quickness of foot—snake's blow against mongoose's jump—and as no eye can follow the motion of a snake's head when it strikes, this makes things much more wonderful than any magic herb.

So I'll meet 'im later on

At the place where 'e is gone—

Where it's always double drill and no canteen.

'E'll be squattin' on the coals

Givin' drink to poor damned souls,

An' I'll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!

Yes, Din! Din! Din!

You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!

Though I've belted you and flayed you,

By the livin' Gawd that made you,

You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!

For to admire an' for to see,

For to be'old this world so wide—

It never done no good to me,

But I can't drop it if I tried!

An' I learned about women from 'er.

And oft-times cometh our wise Lord God, master of every trade,

And tells them tales of His daily toil, of Edens newly made;

And they rise to their feet as He passes by, gentlemen unafraid.

For you all love the screw-guns the screw-guns they all love you!

So when we take tea with a few guns, o' course you will know what to do—hoo! hoo!

Jest send in your Chief an' surrender it's worse if you fights or you runs:

You may hide in the caves, they'll be only your graves, but you can't get away from the guns!

I've taken my fun where I've found it;

I've rogued an' I've ranged in my time.

You may talk o' gin and beer

When you're quartered safe out 'ere,

An' you're sent to penny-fights an' Aldershot it;

But when it comes to slaughter

You will do your work on water,

An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it.

Never praise a sister to a sister, in the hope of your compliments reaching the proper ears, and so preparing the way for you later on. Sisters are women first, and sisters afterwards; and you will find that you do yourself harm.