CONTROVERSIAL ENTERTAINMENT

On Saturdays I often goes

An’ spends a evenin’ in the pit

At one of them vari'ty shows,

An’ makes a‘ appy night of it;

But since this fiscal row begun,

I've‘ ad to look elsewheres for fun.

I'm partial to a music -‘ all,

But when last week I chanced to go,

I‘ eard some low-necked blighter bawl

A Jingo song in praise o’ Joe;

‘ No more will England,’ sez this crank,

‘ Trade with the German an’ the Yank!’

At furrin countries, o'er the sea,

A lot o’ silly jeers‘ e‘ urled;

Thinks I, where would ole England be

Without the market o’ the world?

We'd make a living, I suppose,

A washin’ of each other's clo's!

Nex’ come the cinematograph,

An’ Joe, I need n't say, was there;

A picture of‘ is upper‘ alf,

A-settin’ smilin’ in a chair.

( There's no photographer in town

Would dare to‘ take‘ im lying down!’ )

Then a play-actress come along,

A saucy bunnet on‘ er‘ ead;

She did n't sing no fiscal song,

She spoke a fiscal pome instead.

‘ These is,’ she‘ astened to explain,

‘ The words o’ Joseph Chamberlain!’

I‘ eard that Yankee lady's rhyme,

An’ then I took my coat an’‘ at;

I've read some drivel in my time,

But nothink quite so bad as that.

( She was a Himport, I suppose,

Dumped down by foes o’ poor ole Joe's! )

I took the kids to Drury Lane,

An’‘ eard a lion comic sing

A song as told us once again

To keep‘ Protecting’ hev'rything.

Thinks I,‘ ullo! but if that's so,

Ca n't we protect ourselves from Joe?

I ai n't bad-tempered,‘ Eaven knows;

A peaceful life is wot I'd choose;

If people likes this scheme o’ Joe's,

They're more than welcome to their views;

They loves dear food, I've not a doubt,

An’ any'ow that's their look-out.

But when I seeks the gall'ry door

At one of them there public shows,

I does n't pay a bob or more

To‘ ear about this plan o’ Joe's;

I simply wants to get away

From controversies of the day.

We‘ as enough o’ argument

At‘ ome, on‘ bus-top, tube, or train;

An’ most on us‘ ll be content

If‘ entertainments’ entertain;

But Joe's as bad as the perlice,

‘ E wo n't give no one any peace.

An’ seems to me, as plain as day,

It's actors’ business to amuse;

If they can n't no'ow keep away

From giving us their fiscal views,

Why should the public be denied

A chance to‘ ear the other side?

I‘ opes it wo n't be very long

Afore George Robey lets us‘ ear

A really fust-class fiscal song

Wrote by the Dook o’ Devonsheer;

While on the biograph we sees

Them comic cuts o’ F. C. G.' s.

If Ruddy Kipling would but write

A Free Trade ballad, or a glee,

Which Arthur Roberts could recite,

Or Dunville sing with Mr. Tree,

I'd pay my money at the door,

Nor would n't ask for nothin’ more.

But while the music -‘ alls descend

To nothing but Protection‘ turns,’

There's other better ways to spend

The little money that I earns.

I only asks to see fair-play,

An’, failin’ that, I'll stop away.