Mr Punch's Model Music Hall Songs and Dramas Part 5

_The singer should come on correctly and tastefully attired in a suit of loud dittoes, a startling tie, and a white hat_--_the orthodox costume (on the Music-hall stage) of a middle-cla.s.s swain suffering from love-sickness. The air should be of the conventional jog-trot and jingle order, chastened by a sentimental melancholy._

I've lately gone and lost my 'art--and where you'll never guess-- I'm regularly mashed upon a lovely Marchioness!

'Twas at a Fancy Fair we met, inside the Albert 'All; So affable she smiled at me as I came near her stall!

_Chorus_--Don't tell me Belgravia is stiff in behaviour!

She'd an Uncle an Earl, and a Dook for her Pa-- Still there was no starchiness in that fair Marchioness, As she stood at her stall in the Fancy Bazaar!

At t.i.tles and distinctions once I'd ignorantly scoff, As if no bond could be betwixt the tradesman and the toff!

I held with those who'd do away with difference in ranks-- But that was all before I met the Marchioness of Manx!

_Chorus_--Don't tell me Belgravia, &c.

A home was being started by some kind aristo-crats, For orphan kittens, born of poor, but well-connected cats; And of the swells who planned a _Fete_ this object to a.s.sist, The Marchioness of Manx's name stood foremost on the list.

_Chorus_--Don't tell me Belgravia, &c.

I never saw a smarter hand at serving in a shop, For every likely customer she caught upon the 'op!

And from the form her ladys.h.i.+p displayed at that Bazaar, (_With enthusiasm_)--You might have took your oath she'd been brought up behind a bar!

_Chorus_--Don't tell me Belgravia, &c.

In vain I tried to kid her that my purse had been forgot, She spotted me in 'alf a jiff, and chaffed me precious hot!

A sov. for one regaliar she gammoned me to spend.

"You really can't refuse," she said, "I've bitten off the end!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE AMATORY EPISODIC.]

_Chorus_--Don't tell me Belgravia, &c.

"Do buy my crewel-work," she urged, "it goes across a chair, You'll find it come in useful, as I see you 'ile your 'air!"

So I 'anded over thirty bob, though not a coiny bloke.

I couldn't tell a Marchioness how nearly I was broke!

_Spoken_--Though I _did_ take the liberty of saying: "Make it fifteen bob, my lady!" But she said, with such a fascinating look--I can see it yet!--"Oh, I'm sure _you_'re not a 'aggling kind of a man," she says, "you haven't the face for it. And think of all them pore fatherless kittings," she says; "think what thirty bob means to _them_!" says she, glancing up so pitiful and tender under her long eyelashes at me. Ah, the Radicals may talk as they _like_, but----

_Chorus_--Don't tell me Belgravia, &c.

A raffle was the next concern I put my rhino in: The prize a talking parrot, which I didn't want to win.

Then her sister, Lady Tabby, shewed a painted milking stool, And I bought it--though it's not a thing I sit on as a rule.

_Spoken_--Not but what it was a handsome article in its way, too,--had a snow-scene with a sunset done in oil on it. "It will look lovely in your chambers," says the Marchioness; "it was ever so much admired at Catterwall Castle!" It didn't look so bad in my three-pair back, I must say, though unfortunately the sunset came off on me the very first time I happened to set down on it. Still think of the condescension of painting such a thing at all!

_Chorus_--Don't tell me Belgravia, &c.

The Marquis kept a-fidgeting and frowning at his wife, For she talked to me as free as if she'd known me all my life!

I felt that I was in the swim, so wasn't over-awed, But 'ung about and spent my cash as lavish as a lord!

_Spoken_--It was worth all the money, I can tell you, to be chatting there across the counter with a real live Marchioness for as long as ever my funds would 'old out. They'd have held out much longer, only the Marchioness made it a rule never to give change--she couldn't break it, she said, not even for _me_. I wish I could give you an idea of how she smiled as she made that remark; for the fact is, when an aristocrat _does_ unbend--well,----

_Chorus_--Don't tell me Belgravia, &c.

Next time I meet the Marchioness a-riding in the Row, I'll ketch her eye and raise my 'at, and up to her I'll go, (_With sentiment_)--And tell her next my 'art I keep the stump of that cigar She sold me on the 'appy day we 'ad at her Bazaar!

_Spoken_--And she'll be pleased to see me again, _I_ know! She's not one of your stuck-up sort; don't you make no mistake about it, the aristocracy ain't 'alf as bloated as people imagine who don't _know_ 'em. Whenever I hear parties running 'em down, I always say:

_Chorus_--Don't tell me Belgravia is stiff in behaviour, &c.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CHIVALROUS.]

VI.--THE CHIVALROUS.

_The singer (who should be a large man, in evening dress, with a crumpled s.h.i.+rt-front) will come on the stage with a bearing intended to convey at first sight that he is a devoted admirer of the fair s.e.x. After removing his crush-hat in an easy manner, and winking airily at the orchestra, he will begin_:--

WHY SHOULDN'T THE DARLINGS?

There's enthusiasm br.i.m.m.i.n.g in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of all the women, And they're calling for enfranchis.e.m.e.nt with clamour eloquent: When some parties in a huff rage at the plea for Female Suffrage, I invariably floor them with a simple argu-ment.

_Chorus_ (_to be rendered with a winning persuasiveness_).

Why _shouldn't_ the darlings have votes? de-ar things!

On politics each of 'em dotes, de-ar things!

(_Pathetically._) Oh it _does_ seem so hard They should all be debarred, 'Cause they happen to wear petticoats, de-ar things!

Nature all the hens to crow meant, I could prove it in a moment, Though they've selfishly been silenced by the c.o.c.kadoodle-doos.

But no man of sense afraid is of enfranchising the Ladies.

(_Magnanimously._) Let 'em put their pretty fingers into any pie they choose!

_Spoken_--For----

_Chorus_--Why _shouldn't_ the darlings, &c.

They would cease to care for dresses, if we made them elec-tresses, No more time they'd spend on needlework, nor at pianos strum; Every dainty little Dorcas would be sitting on a Caucus, Busy wire-pulling to produce the New Millenni-um!

_Spoken_--Oh!----

_Chorus_--Why _shouldn't_ the darlings, &c.

In the House we'll see them sitting soon, it will be only fitting They should have an opportunity their country's laws to frame.

And the Ladies' legislation will be sure to cause sensation, For they'll do away with everything that seems to them a shame!

_Spoken_--Then----

_Chorus_--Why _shouldn't_ the darlings, &c.

They will promptly clap a stopper on whate'er they deem improper, Put an end to vaccination, landed property, and pubs; And they'll fine Tom, d.i.c.k, and Harry, if they don't look sharp and marry, And for Kindergartens confiscate those nasty horrid Clubs!

_Spoken_--Ah!----