Cricket Songs and other trifling verses penned by one of the Authors of "Thistledown." [i.e. by N. R. Gale] |
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CONSTABLE WILLIAM SPEAKS. |
 | Cricket Songs |  |
35
CONSTABLE WILLIAM SPEAKS.
Miss Somebody is wery good to me
('Er name is blank for any 'im or she),
But for each cosy, tate-a-taty dinner,
My frame 'ud be considerably thinner;
An' wot rare tricks she knows for making toddy,
Miss Somebody!
('Er name is blank for any 'im or she),
But for each cosy, tate-a-taty dinner,
My frame 'ud be considerably thinner;
An' wot rare tricks she knows for making toddy,
Miss Somebody!
I am a stalwart guardian of the peace—
That is to say, I guide some Brixton geese—
If on my beat I find no serious beatin'
I slips away to 'av a little eatin'
An' take a pull at 'er sweet words, and toddy,
Miss Somebody!
That is to say, I guide some Brixton geese—
If on my beat I find no serious beatin'
I slips away to 'av a little eatin'
An' take a pull at 'er sweet words, and toddy,
Miss Somebody!
I bundle down to see 'er neck and crop,
I jist drops in to 'av a little drop:
If there is dooty, anythink precarious,
As suicides or rougher jobs burglarious,
'Ow can I go without your kiss, and toddy,
Miss Somebody?
I jist drops in to 'av a little drop:
If there is dooty, anythink precarious,
As suicides or rougher jobs burglarious,
'Ow can I go without your kiss, and toddy,
Miss Somebody?
36
I say, wot's that I 'ear about “too much,”
“Will lose your place,” an' “Courage that is Dutch”?
To spirit of that brand I don't aspire, sir;
I'm proud to say my Courage is Entire, sir—
Jist ask my lady of the tricky toddy,
Miss Somebody.
“Will lose your place,” an' “Courage that is Dutch”?
To spirit of that brand I don't aspire, sir;
I'm proud to say my Courage is Entire, sir—
Jist ask my lady of the tricky toddy,
Miss Somebody.
I'll interdooce you to 'er!—but beware!
This is Perliceman's pet an' private lair.
She is my dearest lass, an' much I prize her—
No, sir! 'Er first name never wos Eliza,
It is—Your 'ealth, sir, in this foaming toddy—
Miss—Somebody!
This is Perliceman's pet an' private lair.
She is my dearest lass, an' much I prize her—
No, sir! 'Er first name never wos Eliza,
It is—Your 'ealth, sir, in this foaming toddy—
Miss—Somebody!
Prime stuff it is. You wish you 'ad a cask?
I always wears this pritty little flask
'Cos if some Temp'rance chap should git run over
'E'd find hisself immejiately in clover,
An' sign the pledge again (excepting toddy),
Miss Somebody!
I always wears this pritty little flask
'Cos if some Temp'rance chap should git run over
'E'd find hisself immejiately in clover,
An' sign the pledge again (excepting toddy),
Miss Somebody!
In course if I feels chilly any night
I takes a nip myself, that's only right:
In nippin' winds it's time to drink a nip in,
An' 'av a drop when rain keeps on a drippin',
For bless ye, she don't grudge 'er man 'is toddy,
Miss Somebody.
I takes a nip myself, that's only right:
In nippin' winds it's time to drink a nip in,
An' 'av a drop when rain keeps on a drippin',
For bless ye, she don't grudge 'er man 'is toddy,
Miss Somebody.
37
Some nights, I tell you straight, it's fun down 'ere!
She don't treat me to any sour small beer;
For why? She's loved me since I wos in Putney,
'An I loves 'er as warm as Mango chutnee!
She jist brims over with affection's toddy,
Miss Somebody!
She don't treat me to any sour small beer;
For why? She's loved me since I wos in Putney,
'An I loves 'er as warm as Mango chutnee!
She jist brims over with affection's toddy,
Miss Somebody!
She's no mean cook. A day or so ago
She sprung a rattle to me in the snow!
So down I goes, an' I jist simply whistles,
To smell some round things wot she surnamed “rissles,”
For she's a scholard, down from French to toddy,
Miss Somebody.
She sprung a rattle to me in the snow!
So down I goes, an' I jist simply whistles,
To smell some round things wot she surnamed “rissles,”
For she's a scholard, down from French to toddy,
Miss Somebody.
They wos golopshous, that they wos, you bet,
An' when I talks of 'em I tastes 'em yet;
An' when I'd done, by all the powers 'oly,
She set the table with a roly-poly!
And was'nt there a bowl of steaming toddy,
Miss Somebody?
An' when I talks of 'em I tastes 'em yet;
An' when I'd done, by all the powers 'oly,
She set the table with a roly-poly!
And was'nt there a bowl of steaming toddy,
Miss Somebody?
So when I cotched a thief upon my beat,
Wot with the joyfulness of that there meat,
I let 'im go on 'is recognizances
To see the Covent Garding Cirkis dances!
'E owed it all to “rissles” an' your toddy,
Miss Somebody!
Wot with the joyfulness of that there meat,
I let 'im go on 'is recognizances
To see the Covent Garding Cirkis dances!
'E owed it all to “rissles” an' your toddy,
Miss Somebody!
38
Now, sir, you says you is a writing gent
Wot sits and scribbles in our Parleyment,
The 'ouse of friendly foes an' genteel curses;
But if you wants a subjec' for some verses
Take my young 'ooman an' her magic toddy,
Miss Somebody.
Wot sits and scribbles in our Parleyment,
The 'ouse of friendly foes an' genteel curses;
But if you wants a subjec' for some verses
Take my young 'ooman an' her magic toddy,
Miss Somebody.
Say she grows kinder to me day by day,
An' that I mean to run 'er in next May!
An' don't forgit to put this in the papers:—
“She 'as no sauce an' never cuts no capers,
But is my girl, without her tricky toddy,
Miss Somebody!”
An' that I mean to run 'er in next May!
An' don't forgit to put this in the papers:—
“She 'as no sauce an' never cuts no capers,
But is my girl, without her tricky toddy,
Miss Somebody!”
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