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music hall fun
The Scotsman
Anonymous
Well, a Scotsman clad in kilt left a bar one evening fair,
And one could tell by how he walked that he'd drunk more than his share.
He fumbled 'round until he could no longer keep his feet,
And he stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street.
About that time two young and lovely girls just happend by,
One says to the other with a twinkle in her eye:
"See yon sleeping Scotsman, so strong and handsome built?
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt!"
They crept up on that sleeping Scotsman quiet as could be;
Lifted up his kilt about an inch so they could see.
And there, behold, for them to view beneath his Scottish skirt,
Was nothin' more than God had graced him with upon his birth.
They marvelled for a moment, then one said: "We must be gone.
Let's leave a present for our friend before we move along."
As a gift they left a blue silk ribbon tied into a bow,
Around the bonnie star the Scotsman's kilt did lift and show.
Now the Scotsman woke to nature's call, and stumbled towards the trees.
Behind the bush he lifts his kilt, and gawks at what he sees.
And in a startled voice he says, to what's before his eyes,
"Oh, lad I don't know where ye been, but I see ye won first prize!"
Monologues
the Lion and Albert'.
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There's a famous seaside place called Blackpool, That's noted for fresh air and fun,
And Mr. and Mrs. Ramsbottom , Went there with young Albert, their son.
A grand little lad was young Albert, All dressed in his best;quite a swell,
With a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle, The finest that Woolworth's could sell.
They didn't think much to the Ocean: The waves, they was fiddlin' and small,
There was no wrecks and nobody drownded, Fact, nothing to laugh at at all.
So, seeking for further amusement, They paid and went into the Zoo,
Where they'd Lions and Tigers and Camels, And old ale and sandwiches too.
There were one great big Lion called Wallace; His nose were all covered with scars,
He lay in a somnolent posture, With the side of his face on the bars.
Now Albert had heard about Lions, How they was ferocious and wild,
To see Wallace lying so peaceful, Well, it didn't seem right to the child.
So straightway the brave little feller, Not showing a morsel of fear,
Took his stick with its 'orses 'ead 'andle And pushed it in Wallace's ear.
You could see that the Lion didn't like it, For giving a kind of a roll,
He pulled Albert inside the cage with 'im, And swallowed the little lad 'ole.
Then Pa, who had seen the occurrence, And didn't know what to do next,
Said " Mother! Yon Lion's 'et Albert," And Mother said " Well, I am vexed!"
Then Mr. and Mrs. Rarnsbottom, Quite rightly, when all's said and done,
Complained to the Animal Keeper, That the Lion had eaten their son.
The keeper was quite nice about it; He said " What a nasty mishap.
Are you sure that it's your boy he's eaten ? " Pa said "Am I sure ? There's his cap! "
The manager had to be sent for. He came and he said " What's to do ? "
Pa said " Yon Lion's 'et Albert, And 'im in his Sunday clothes, too."
Then Mother said, " Right's right, young feller; I think it's a shame and a sin,
For a lion to go and eat Albert, And after we've paid to come in."
Then off they went to the Police Station, In front of the Magistrate chap;
They told 'im what happened to Albert, And proved it by showing his cap.
The manager wanted no trouble, He took out his purse right away,
Saying " How much to settle the matter ? " And Pa said " What do you usually pay?"
But Mother had turned a bit awkward, When she thought where her Albert had gone.
She said " No ! someone's got to be summonsed", So that was decided upon.
The Magistrate gave his opinion That no one was really to blame,
And he said that he hoped the Ramsbottoms , Would have further sons to their name.
At that Mother got proper blazing, " And thank you, sir, kindly," said she.
" What, waste all our lives raising children, To feed ruddy Lions? Not me!"
alberts evacuation
Have you heard how young Albert Ramsbottom
Was evacuated from home
With his mother, clean socks and a toothbrush
Some syrup of figs and a comb.
The stick with the 'orses 'ead 'andle
They decided that they'd leave behind
To keep safe with the things they weren't wanting
Like their gasmasks and thinks of that kind.
Pa saw them off at the station
And shed a few crocodile tears
As he waved them goodbye from the platform,
'Twas the best break he'd had in ten years.
Ma got corner seat for young Albert
Who amused all the rest of the team
By breathing hot breaths on the window
And writing some swear words in steam.
They arrived at last somewhere in England
And straight to their billet were shown
Ther was one room for mother
But Albert was in a small room of his own.
The very first night in the blackout
Young Albert performed quite a feat
By hanging head first from the window
And shining his torch down the street.
It flashed on an A.R.P. warden
Patrolling with leisurely gait;
"Good Heavens," he said, "it's Tarzan,
I'd better go investigate."
So reading his book of instructions
To make himself doubly sure
Then in an official manner
Proceeded to knock on the door.
It was opened by Mrs Ramsbottom
"Now then," said she, "what's to do."
And in stern air-warden manner, he said
"I'm going to interrogate you."
This fair upset Mrs. Ramsbottom
Her face was a picture to see
"I'll have you know, you'll do nowt of the sort,
I'm a respectable woman." said she.
"Has your son been evacuated?"
Said the A.R.P. man at the door
"He'd all them things done as a baby," said mother
"He's not being done anymore."
"Be off now," said Mrs. Ramsbottom
As she bustled him out of the porch
And the A.R.P. man patted Albert
And then confiscated his torch.
Now that were unlucky for Albert
He had no torch to see him to bed
But being a bright little fellow
He switched on the hal light instead.
"Put out that light," a voice shouted
"Where's the men of our A.R.P.?"
"I've told them already" the warden replied
"They take no bloody notice of me."
Soon, Mrs. Ramsbottom and Albert
Were feeling quite homesick and sad;
So they thanked the landlady most kindly
And prepared to go back home to Dad.
When at last they reached home to Father
They were fed up and had quite enough;
But in the front parlour they found six young women
And Father were doing his stuff.
"Hello Mother," said Mr. Ramsbottom
"Come right on in, don't be afraid,
When you went away I joined Ambulance Corps
I'm instructing the girls in first aid."
"First aid?," said Mrs. Ramsbottom
With a horrible look on her brow.
"If ever you wanted first aid in your life,
By gum, you'll be wanting it now."
The Captains whiskers
It was Christmas day last Easter,
On a Friday night in June,
I shall not forget that day until I die.
We were in the Bay of Biscay
Just a mile from Barking Creek,
When the Captain hung his whiskers out to dry.
He was known as Mad Carew,
And he lived on Irish stew,
And the space around his tongue was always dry,
He would drink for hours you bet,
And to save them getting wet,
We used to hang his whiskers out to dry.
He was only ninety-four,
Maybe less or maybe more.
And he grew a beard to save his buying a tie.
But one night the silly goop,
Let his beard dip in the soup,
So we had to hang his whiskers out to dry.
He was gentle as a child,
That's except when he was wild,
And he was always wild 'tween you and I.
And as he'd got a sloping jib,
He used to dribble down his bib,
So we had to hang his whiskers out to dry.
His beard was flaming red,
He was born with it he said.
When his mother used to shave him he would cry.
So they let it grow apace,
And when they washed his face,
They used to hang his whiskers out to dry.
Once he spoke about his ma,
Who lived out in Zanzibar,
And the poor old fool just started out to cry.
And he cried about his mummy,
Till the tears ran down his waistcoat,
So we had to hang his whiskers out to dry.
Then one day he caught a chill, He was very, very ilI,
And he died and went to glory in the sky,
Now after show'rs blown to and fro,
Hanging on a bright rainbow,
I can see his whiskers hanging out to dry.
Yorkshire pudden!
Hi waitress, excuse me a minute, now listen,
I'm not finding fault, but here, Miss,
The 'taters look gradely... the beef is a'reet,
But what kind of pudden is this?
It's what?...
Yorkshire pudden!, now coom, coom, coom, coom,
It's what? Yorkshire pudden d'ye say!
It's pudden, I'll grant you... it's some sort of pudden,
But not Yorkshire pudden... nay nay!
The real Yorkshire pudden's a dream in batter,
To make one's an art, not a trade,
Now listen to me, for I'm going to tell thee,
How t' first Yorkshire pudden wor made.
A young angel on furlough from heaven,
Came flying above Ilkley Moor,
And this angel, poor thing, got cramp in her wing,
And coom down at owd woman's door.
The owd woman smiled and said, 'Ee, it's an angel,
Well I am surprised to see thee,
I've not seen an angel before... but thou 'rt welcome,
I'll make thee a nice cup o' tea.'
The angel said, 'Ee, thank you kindly, I will',
Well, she had two or three cups of tea,
Three or four Sally Lunns, and a couple of buns...
Angels eat very lightly you see.
The owd woman looking at clock said, 'By Gum!
He's due home from mill is my Dan,
You get on wi' ye tea, but you must excuse me,
I must make pudden now for t' owd man.
Then the angel jumped up and said, 'Gimme the bowl...
Flour and watter and eggs, salt an' all,
And I'll show thee how we make puddens in Heaven,
For Peter and Thomas and Paul'.
So t' owd woman gave her the things, and the angel,
Just pushed back her wings and said. 'Hush'
Then she tenderly tickled the mixture wi' t' spoon,
Like an artist would paint with his brush.
Aye, she mixed up that pudden with Heavenly magic,
She played with her spoon on that dough,
Just like Paderewski would play the piano.
Or Kreisler now deceased would twiddle his bow.
And then it wor done and she put it in t' oven
She said t' owd woman, 'Goodbye',
Then she flew away leaving the first Yorkshire pudden,
That ever was made... and that's why...
It melts in the mouth, like the snow in the sunshine,
As light as a maiden's first kiss,
As soft as the fluff on the breast of a dove...
Not elephant's leather, like this.
It's real Yorkshire pudden that makes Yorkshire lassies,
So buxum and broad in the hips,
It's real Yorkshire pudden that makes Yorkshire cricketers,
Win County championships.
It's real Yorkshire pudden that gives me my dreams,
Of a real Paradise up above,
Where at the last trump, I'll queue up for a lump,
Of the real Yorkshire pudden I love.
And there on a cloud... far away from the crowd,
In a real Paradise, not a dud 'un,
I'll do nowt for ever... and ever and ever,
But gollup up real Yorkshire pudden.
Erbert Pinwinkle
ILLUSTRATION BY GEORGE PRICE
Now Mr. and Mrs. Pinwinkle
'Ad 'eard about Ramsbottoms, 'oo
'Ad their son Albert swallowed by t'lion
One day up at Blackpool, in t' zoo.
Pa wanted to know 'ow they did it,
And what manager offered to pay.
"It seems that there's money in lions;
We might take our 'Erbert some day."
Now 'e'd twice tried to drown master 'Erbert,
But someow the lad wouldn't sink,
And 'e couldn't try anything messy,
For fear of what neighbors might think.
This 'Erb was a 'oly young terror,
There was nowt that that lad wouldn't do:
One day 'e burnt 'oles in 'is sister
With a poker... to let daylight through.
And 'e laughed when 'is mother said, "'Erbert,
You mustn't do that to Kathleen;
And take Pussy off fire this instant!"
Then Father appeared on the scene.
When 'e saw what 'Erb 'ad been doing,
And 'eard Kathleen screaming like mad,
With Pussycat running 'round smoking,
'E said, "Now you've torn it, me lad"
'Cos 'e'd won that there cat in a raffle,
A pure blooded Persian she were.
And e'd 'oped to take prizes at cat show
Now she couldn't without any fur.
So they set off for Blackpool next morning,
'Twere a fine day with no sign o' rain;
Bought a stick with an 'orses 'ead 'andle,
For 'Erbert on t'way to the train.
Then they told 'im 'e mustn't poke lion,
Like some people did for a joke,
And when 'e just laughed, they were pleased like,
Now they knew 'e'd be certain to poke.
Then Father went off to buy tickets,
Adult return fares for two,
But just a 'alf single for 'Erbert,
'Oo was going to stay on at the zoo.
They got to Blackpool in an hour,
Going straight to the zoo, as Ma said;
But when 'e 'eard t' lions a roaring
Young 'Erbert 'e rushed on ahead.
Now 'e remembered 'e mustn't poke lions,
But 'is parents 'ad not told 'im why,
So the stick with the 'orses 'ead 'andle,
'E poked right in Wallace's eye.
Old Wallace 'e jumped up intending
To frighten young 'Erb with a roar,
But 'Erbert just kicked 'im in t'stomach,
And shouted "Eeh! do it some more!"
This wasn't what Wallace expected,
And a pained look came over 'is face,
Which deepened as 'Erbert Pinwinkle
Kicked 'im twice in the very same place.
Then with stick with the 'orses 'ead 'andle,
'E whacked Wallace hard on the leg,
And backed 'im up into t'far corner,
And told 'im to sit up and beg.
Wallace was no good at begging,
'E'd never been told to before,
But now t'stick with the 'orses 'ead 'andle,
Came down on 'is nose, which was sore.
Poor old Wallace thought 'e'd 'ad sufficient,
What with stick and with copper-toed boots,
So 'e started to go, but found 'Erbert
Was pulling 'is tail out by t'roots.
The pain was so dreadful that Wallace,
At last in despair, turned at bay,
But seeing young 'Erb still advancing,
Gave a howl and just fainted away.
Outside on the bench, the Pinwinkles
'Ad 'eard that first dreadful loud roar.
Ma said, "That's the end of poor 'Erbert,"
And Pa said, "I'll go in and make sure."
So 'e started in looking quite 'appy,
When the manager came up and said,
"Is your name Pinwinkle?" Pa answered,
"Don't tell me our poor 'Erbert's dead."
"Dead nothing," the man answered rudely.
"'E's gone off with policeman to jail.
'E's ruined our lion called Wallace,
And he's made off with Wallace's tail."
Next day in police court at Blackpool,
The magistrate looked down and said,
"The parents of this boy Pinwinkle,
Will stand up to hear sentence read.
"This lad has been tried and found guilty,
But the parents, of course, are to blame.
For disturbing the peace-forty shillings,
And assaulting a policeman-the same.
"Three pounds you are fined for detaching,
Detaining and taking away,
The tail of this lion, called Wallace,
And then furthermore you must pay
"Five pounds and all costs and charges
Of the court, and it's quite right you should,
For tempting this lion called Wallace,
With meat that was not fit for food."
The Game at the rose bowl
ILLUSTRATION BY GEORGE PRICE
And tickets are much in demand
There are millions of folks 'oo would like to attend
But the stand only holds eighty grand.
Now, General 'Orace Fitz Morris McCoy
Was given a seat to the game
'E wanted to go but 'e couldn't because
'E'd a previous date with a lady.
The ticket wos marked "Use the W gate
Tunnel nine, section seven, Box B
Aisle two 'undred and ten, Lower level Row 8
And finally seat twenty-three."
'Twas a very fine seat, and Fitz Morris McCoy
Could 'ave sold it again and again
But a surge of bon homme inspired 'im instead
To give it to one of the men.
"Call all of the boys to attention," 'e roared
And 'is order wos promptly obeyed
Then 'e looked at them all in 'is fatherly way
And said, "Men of the Seventh Brigade
"I am 'ere to announce I intend to present
An elegant seat to the game
To the man 'oo, can say 'e 'as gone through the month
Without a black mark to 'is name."
Well, at that, 'alf the regiment walked off the field
Without any further ado
For they knew if McCoy gave their records a look
The Ieast 'e could say wos "Pew."
McCoy looked at the rest and said, "Lord love a duck
This outfit of mine is a jinx
It's a dismal, unruly, unsojerly lot...
It's shameful, It's sloppy. It's appalling.
"Surely one of your number 'as gone through the month
Without breaking all the commands
If you 'aven't, go back to your bunks and repent
If you 'ave, simply 'old up your 'ands."
Then, the General looked to see 'oos 'and wos up
And 'e found there were no 'ands at all
All the men 'ad gone off... that is, all except one
And that one wos... you guessed it, Sam Small.
When Fitz Morris saw Sam, 'e said, "Well, Private Small
So you claim that your record is clean?
For the last thirty days you've done nothink at all
That was wrong, underanded or mean?"
Sam replied, "Aye, that's right, I've done nothink at all."
McCoy, as they say, took it big
And said, "Where 'ave you been for the last thirty days?"
Sam simply replied, "In the brig."
Well, McCoy was quite fair. 'E wos forced to admit
Sam 'ad a legitimate claim
A man can't break rules while 'e's doing a stretch
So Sam got the seat to the game.
For the next seven days Sam wos walking on air
'Is excitement wos out of control
And on New Year's Day some'ow 'e fought through the crowd
And there 'e wos... outside the Bowl.
With a ticket that said "Use the W gate
Tunnel nine, section seven, Box B
Aisle two 'undred and ten, Lower level, Row 8
And finally seat twenty-three."
And 'anded it in to the man at the gate
And the man stared at it with a frown
And as Sam started joyously through 'e said, "Wait...
Your entrance is seven gates down."
So Sam took 'is ticket and elbowed 'is way
Through the crowd, and it wosn't much fun.
As 'e 'eld out 'is ticket a roar from inside
Told Sam that the game 'ad begun.
The man took 'is ticket and Sam started in
With a 'eart full of joy and delight
The man said, "This is W gate on the left
You want W gate on the right."
With cheers from the crowd ringing loud in 'is ears
'E tried every gate 'e could find
And when 'e found the right one the quarter wos done
And Sam wos 'alf out of 'is mind.
Sam dashed through the gate and 'e 'anded 'is stub
To the very first usher 'e spied
The usher looked at it and said, "Tunnel Nine
That's round on the opposite side."
Sam grabbed the stub and 'e ran like a deer
That 'ad sat on some 'ot turpentine
The man said, "Your ticket." Sam said, " 'Ere it is
And don't tell me this ain't Tunnel Nine."
The man took 'is ticket and said, "You're okay
You want section seven... let's see,
This is section eighteen, you go right straight ahead
Down six, over seven, up three."
So Sam fought 'is way to another young man
And gave 'im 'is ticket, and then
The young man called another and gave 'im the stub
And it started all over again.
By and by, by some accident, Sam got a seat
'Is knees and 'is ankles wos skun
And just as 'e started to look at the game
'Ewos shocked by the sound of a gun.
"Well, there goes the 'alf," said the man just be'ind
For ten minutes Sam looked at a band
And some boys dressed in white making pictures with cards
Across in the opposite stand.
But Sam didn't mind, there 'e wos at the Bowl
There wos still 'alf a game left to play
And band left the field, and the players ran on
And Sam wos excited and gay.
Then a 'and touched 'is shoulder and somebody said
"Could I see your ticket again?"
Sam produced it. The man said, "I'm sorry, old chap
You're across in two 'undred and ten."
So Sam staggered out through the tunnel once more
To where 'e 'ad been told to go
A young man took 'is stub, called another young man
'Oo looked at the stub and said "Oh!"
They sent 'im around to the end zone, and then
'E wos sent to the twenty yard line
Where a man took 'is ticket and said, "Over there,
Section seven, Box B, Tunnel Nine."
That night about midnight, the crowd wos all gone
And the watchman wos closing the Bowl
'E saw somethink odd on the fifty yard line
And 'e muttered, "Why, Lord bless my soul!"
'E crept toward the figure, 'is gun in 'is 'and
In case 'e should try to resist
And there wos Sam Small spinning round like a top
With 'is ticket stub clutched in 'is fist.
'Oo are you?" said the watchman. Sam came to a stop
And 'e said, "Samuel Small is my name
I'm in SEAT TWENTY-THREE, SECTION SEVEN, BOX B
And I'd like to know... 'oo won the game?"
The court of good Queen bess
We're a couple of bits of cracklin' from the court of Good Queen Bess
She was known as the 'Virgin Queen' and as a queen she was a great success.
We were her maids in waiting, there... we did some waiting too, Oh yeah!
At the court of Good Queen Bess, at the court of Good Queen Bess
We did our best to give the boys, an eyeful more or less.
In frocks like ours, we couldn't fail, the skirts stuck out just like a sail
But it wasn't 'alf cold round the farthingale, at the court of Good Queen Bess
Now Bess had lots of boyfriends, you've heard of that, no doubt
'Twas part of my job to let them in... but nobody saw me let them out.
She said, 'Leave me, girls... begone, I'm quite safe with my bumpers on.
At the court of Good Queen Bess, at the court of Good Queen Bess
Lizzie was a spinster... and she looked it more or less.
When Raleigh she refused to wed... he taught her how to smoke, instead
And they found his fag-ends underneath the bed, at the court of Good Queen Bess
You've heard of the Earl of Leicester, well he was the queen's big noise,
With his velvet cloak and his silken hose, no wonder he cut out all the boys.
His bags were trimmed with lace, how queer!... well, girls still think it's a good idea!
At the court of Good Queen Bess, at the court of Good Queen Bess
To try and get a cuddle wasn't easy, I confess.
Their armour was so hard and bright that when the boyfriends came in sight
The minstrel played, 'In Tin Tonight', at the court of Good Queen Bess
The jester cracked the same old jokes you hear now, more or less,
Bess had her favourites by the hour, she started by giving them each a flower.
But they all finished up in T'Bloody Tower, at the court of Good Queen Bess.
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SAM SMALL AND PAUL REVERE
ILLUSTRATION BY GEORGE PRICE
No doubt you've 'eard me tell about my sojer friend, Sam Small
Who wouldn't pick 'is musket up when sargent let it fall,
Until the Duke of Wellington said, "Sam, pick up thy gun!"
And Sam replied, "Aye Duke, I will... For thee 'tis gladly done."
But 'ave I ever told you of 'ow Sam came over 'ere,
And 'ow 'e got acquainted with a chap called Paul Revere?
It seems there'd been an argument about a bit of tea
Some chaps dressed up like Indians 'ad dumped it in the sea.
And when the news of this event was told to George the Third
'E shifted on 'is throne a bit, and said an ugly word.
"'Tis mutiny," 'e muttered, "and the situation's grave.
We'll 'ave to send some troops across to make those lads be'ave."
The troops lined up and answered , " 'Ere," as sargent called the roll,
Till, where there should 'ave been a man there was an empty 'ole.
"Oo's missing from this cavity?" they 'eard the sargent bawl,
And as one man they answered, in two syllables, "Sam Small!"
Just at that moment Sam appeared, and straightway took 'is place.
The sargent stood and glared at Sam with fury in 'is face.
"You're late at roll call, Small," 'e said, "and that's no bloody joke.
What's your excuse?" Sam cleared 'is throat and said, "Me shoestring broke."
They sailed away and by and by they reached the other shore
The sargent lined them up again, then suddenly 'e swore,
For where a sojer should 'ave been there was no man at all.
"Oo's missing?" said the sargent. And the others said, "Sam Small!"
'E found Sam sitting on a stone, the one called Plymouth Rock.
On one of Sam's feet was a boot, on t'other, just a sock.
The sargent roared, "Why aren't you there with all the other men?"
Sam looked up, 'aughty like, and said, "Me shoestring broke again."
"Well, patch it up!" the sargent said, "We 'ave no time to wait,
We've got to get to Lexington. We're twenty minutes late.
Fall in. Left turn, and forward march!" Away they went, and then
It 'appened as 'e knew it would... Sam's shoestring broke again.
'E slipped out of the ranks and sat down on a pile of 'ay,
And while 'e fixed 'is shoestring up, the Army marched away.
Sam tied a knot, then took 'is shoe and slowly put it on,
And then stood up and wondered which way 'ad the Army gone.
'E took a coin and flipped it, tails was left and 'eads was right.
The coin fell in a puddle. when 'e found it, it was night.
Imagine 'is predicament; 'twould touch an 'eart of stone:
The Army gone, Sam stood there... in the darkness-all alone.
It were quickly getting chilly, so Sam started through the dark.
Away off in the distance 'e beheld a tiny spark.
'E passed a clump of bushes; 'e did not intend to stop
When suddenly, to 'is chagrin, 'e felt 'is shoestring pop.
What could 'e do? 'E sat right down to fix it up, of course;
Of a sudden 'e was startled by the whinny of an 'orse.
'E jumped up quick and saw an 'andsome stranger standing near.
"Oo's that?" 'e cried. The stranger said, "My name is Paul Revere.
"Judging from your costume you're a stranger 'ereabout,
And, pardon my inquiring, does your mother know you're out?"
"I'm a British sojer," Sam replied, "I've some'ow lost my way.
I sat to fix my shoestring, and the Army marched away.
"They're on their way to Lexington." "You don't say," answered Paul.
"And do they come by land or sea?" "By land," said Samuel Small.
"I'd like to get to Lexington to meet them if I can.
The Sargent will be angry... 'e's a bitter little man.
"I'll tell you what," said Paul Revere, "I'll gladly lend an "and.
You're sure that they don't come by sea?" Sam said, "They come by land."
"My 'orse can carry two," said Paul. "Just 'op up 'ere be'ind.
I'll take you up to Lexington." Said Sam, "You're very kind."
And so they rode to Lexington. Paul stopped at every door
And Sam got off and 'eld 'is 'orse till 'e came back once more.
"The British are approaching," people shouted loud and clear.
"Aren't they 'ospitable?" said Sam. "They are," said Paul Revere.
And when they got to Lexington the feeling there was tense.
A man was back of every tree and back of every fence.
Sam saw 'is Army coming, and 'e waved at them-and then
'E 'eard some shots... the Army turned and marched away again.
When this news reached 'is Majesty 'e wasn't pleased at all.
'E said, "I want a word or two with Private Samuel Small."
And when Sam stood before 'im, 'e said, "Sam, what's this I 'ear?
You're sent to fight for Britain and you fight for Paul Revere."
Sam stood there very dignified and cleared 'is throat and spoke:
"The 'ole thing wouldn't 'appen if me shoestring 'adn't broke.
It's hard upon a sojer, and there isn't any use
To try to win a battle when your shoe keeps working loose."
"There's something, Sam, in what you say," 'is Majesty replied.
"It's difficult to concentrate when shoestrings come untied.
We've lost a lot of battles that we can't afford to lose;
'Ereafter we fight barefoot... or we'll all wear button shoes."
'ERBERT DEPORTED
ILLUSTRATION BY GEORGE PRICE
It seems things were reaching a crisis,
A cabinet meeting was called.
Prime Minister rapped with 'is gavel,
"You will please come to order," 'e bawled.
"It is nice to be calm-like and placid,
And pretend the 'ole thing is a bore,
And, though it's a bit of a bother,
We must keep our minds on the war.
'We must get rid of every distraction,
We must banish all things that disturb,
And to start the ball rolling I'd like to suggest
That we get rid of Pinwinkle's 'Erb.
"As you know, young 'Erbert Pinwinkle
And national crises don't rhyme.
It's either the war or young 'Erbert!
We must face them one at a time!
"Now that, gentlemen, is the question.
That's what we're gathered 'ere for:
We've got to get rid of old Pinwinkle's son,
Or else we must call off the war."
The following day to Pinwinkle's
A cabinet minister came.
"The country is in a dilemma," he said,
"The dilemma is 'Erbert, by name.
"Every Englishman must do his duty,
We stand with our backs to the wall,
We must win the war, but with Herbert about
We simply can't do it... that's all.
"We've arranged for the lad's deportation,
It was 'ard finding some place to go.
We tried Norway and Sweden and Denmark,
But all of those countries said 'No.'
"We've 'ad to be most diplomatic,
It took much persuasion and tact,
For shipping of 'Erbert to some foreign land
'As the mark of an unfriendly act.
"But we finally did get permission,
To send 'im to 'is Uncle Sam.
'Ere's your ticket... pack up your belongings,
Take your missus and 'Erbert... and scram."
Of course old Pinwinkle was startled,
'E said, "It seems drastic to make
Two innocent parents do penance
For a bio-logical mistake."
But 'e soon seen 'is duty an' done it,
Friendly like 'e took 'Erb by the lug
And said, Stop throwing stones at yer mother!
We're going on a journey, you thug."
So mother put on 'er new bonnet,
And father 'is best Sunday coat,
Then they tied 'Erbert down while they washed 'im,
And then they went down to the boat.
Pa said when 'e looked at the vessel.
"Bah gum, she's a leaky old tub."
But the cabinet minister nodded 'is 'ead
And answered'im, "Aye, there's the rub.
'Y'know accidents 'appen in wartime,
Those U-boats are so 'ard to curb,
And if by a chance you should run across one
We 'aven't lost nothing... just 'Erb."
Two days out of Landsend it 'appened:
A periscope 'ove into view,
And up came a boat with no name on its bow,
Just three numbers preceded by U.
They took everyone off on a lifeboat
And put them aboard of the sub,
And then got things ready, torpedo and all
To take a pot shot at the tub.
But as they stood by for the signal
The voice of a sailor cried, "Wait!...
We've got to do something about this 'ere lad
E's just bit an ear oft the mate."
The captain on hearing this, shouted,
"Vas Machst Du, mein billige Frau?"
Which is merely a foreign expression
Calculated to quiet a row.
The sailor just stood and saluted
"Come, come, lad," the chief loudly roared,
"It's this kid," said the sailor, " 'e's ruined the mate,
And 'e's chased all the crew overboard."
"Warum?" cried the captain, "It's no time to play,
Get the torpedo ready... act smart!"
Said the sailor, "We can't get it ready because
'E's took the torpedo apart.
"And now 'e's below with a hammer and wrench,
Puttin' all the machines on the blink,
'E's opened the bungholes and turned on the valves
If we aren't very careful, we'll sink."
"That's torn it," the submarine captain exclaimed,
"This 'ere is a pretty to-do;
'0o's this lad?" 'e inquired, and the sailor replied,
"It's 'Erbert Pinwinkle... that's 'oo."
"Curse the luck," said the skipper, in guttural tones,
"It looks like we're properly tricked.
Of all of the boats on the ocean today,
'E'd be on the one that I picked.
"Put 'im back on the boat, we'll fix up 'er leaks
And see that 'er boilers is trim
If 'e promises 'e'll sail, right on to New York
That's all we'll be askin' of 'im.
"I don't mind their aeroplanes, bullets and bombs
And gas attacks,,, Heaven forbid!
But for one I surrender, and no questions asked,
If I 'ave to face Pinwinkle's kid."
THE DOGGIES MEETING
Anonymous
The doggies held a meeting,
They came from near and far,
Some came by motor cycle,
And some by motor car
Each doggie passed the doorway,
Each doggie signed the book
Each one unshipped his asshole
And hung it on a hook.
One dog was not invited
It sorely raised his ire
He ran into the meeting hall
And loudly shouted “Fire!”
It threw them in confusion
And without a second look
Each grabbed anothers asshole
From off another hook
When walking down the street
And that’s the reason why sir,
When doggies chance to meet
And that’s the reason why sir,
On land, abroard or home
They’ll sniff each other’s backside…
To see if it’s their own.
Take a look at this
I made this music player at MyFlashFetish.com.
