Punch: Punch (89.1885)

86

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[August 22, 1885.

"I DON'T CARE A RAP!"

Sung by the Funny Little Randolph, Ihe Star Comique, at the Grand Fete, Cavford Manor, Wimborne.

Lord Salisbury doubtless my"game has an eye on,

I put the old bloke in a fidget;

But now I'm the Monster Comique, the great Lion,

Who late was a nondescript Midget.

They can't put me down since I've taken the Town,

My performance is now all the rage.

The fogies may fret and the big-wigs may frown,
Bat I'm the Great Star of the Stage.

The papers may slate, and my rivals

Fitch into my style day by day;

I don't care a rap for such people ;

But what will the Governor say ?

"W

Oh ain't I a chap ? "Why, I don't care a rap

For consistency, justice, or sense ;

I go in for bunkum, and bounce, and clap-trap ;

The effect of it's truly immense!

"When out on the stump I belabour and thump,

And scatter unlimited dirt.

Cold reason may suit your pragmatical pump,
But give me the demagogue squirt!

The critics may chide, and my Party

Rebel at my rantipole play ;

I don't care a rap for such people ;
But what will the Governor say ?

It's rare fun, by Jingo! I
give 'em hot stingo,

That's just what the public
enjoy;

They don't want your high-
polite rational lingo,
Aud Sweetness and. Light '11
soon cloy.

Not logical riddles, but smart
taradiddles,

They like, and almost under-
stand ;

That's why with the Mob I'm
the first of First Fiddles,
And lead the Conservative
Band!

True patriots may sigh,
and sage thinkers

Make moan at my mounte-
bank play;

I don't care a rap for such
people ;

But what will the Go-
vernor say ?

It's nice, if it's naughty!
I'm regular rorty,

And if the Mob should feel a
doubt,

They say, " He's so young! "
—though I'm handy on
forty—

And scruples are put to the
rout.

And so I can slang, tumble,
trick, sing slap-bang,
And play up high larks with

the truth;

A cove may bid facts and good

manners go hang
If he only has smartness and
youth.

Grave Statesmen may
mourn at my cantrips,

Plain cits in hot shame
turn away,

I don't care a rap for such
people;

Bat what will the Go-
vernor say ?

Yah! Booh! I can juggle,
grimace, and sling muck ;
And what if the critics should
chide ?

Rain runs not so fast off the
back of a duck
As honest reproach from my
hide.

A. fig for the Papers! I '11
still cut my capers,
And slangy young Scorchers
like Me

Of Britain's fair future are
bound to be shapers,
A prospect to fill you with
glee!

Houp-la! Here be " nuts "
for Aunt "Sally"!

Old Tories distrust my
new way;

I don't care a rap for such
people;

But—what will the Go-
vernor say ?

ministerial mathematics.

It is whispered that, in
order if possible to conciliate
the Parnellite Ring, one of the
principal difficulties of which
the Government propose to
attempt the solution during
the Recess, will be the pro-
blem How to square the
Irish Circle.