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Circa 1905. "Tommy Atkins." The name being a sort of generic, John-Doe-type moniker for a British soldier. (Yes, I had to look it up in Wikipedia.) 8x10 inch silver gelatin glass transparency, Detroit Publishing Company. View full size.
He's not playing cards with a few other dogs in a rec-room and swilling beer?
Being a pipe smoker for many years my first reaction to this great picture was "Wow, a bulldog with a bulldog".
I saw him in a painting, playing poker with a bunch of other dogs.
Then you didn't remember your Kipling, Dave!!
"O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play"
[Not only do I not remember my Kipling, I never Kippled to begin with. - Dave]
Thought I'd let you know what kinda pal Ol' Tommy Atkins was ...
Everybody knew he was in the war and he was a man of few words. One night at the pub he did speak of his time there. I asked what it was like. All he said, with a tear in his eye was: "Rough. Rough. Rough."
Tommy Atkins was the kinda pal that would a give you his left paw if you asked 'im to!
Tommy Atkins was the kinda pal that was always there. If you asked 'im to come, he came.
His daddy may have been a dog. And his momma sure was a bi___, but that Tommy Atkins was the best friend a guy could ever had.
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