If a chum begins acting rum,
Not a friend, not a foe, but so...
And if suddenly you can’t tell
If he means ill or well,

Take him off mountaineering - dare!
But don’t let him stray away!
When he’s roped on one rope with you
You find out if he’s true.

If, as the chap scales, he quails,
If his nerve starts to go, and so -
He steps backwards, appalled, and falls
On a glacier, and bawls -

Then you’ll know in a trice - no dice,
Chase him off - there’s no use in abuse:
You’ll do better - no doubt - without him,
And don’t sing about him.

If the chap doesn’t moan, or groan,
If, though angry or glum, he’ll come,
And when you miss your step and tumble
He’ll hang on, though he’ll grumble;

If he’ll stay with you all the way
To the top, as though into the fray -
Then you’ll know that the man is a friend
You can trust to the end.