Punch (102.1892)

138

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[March 19, 1892.

THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID.

To our M.P.i who rather fancies himself a great political force in the House.
{Day before the Meeting of Parliament.)

" Well, Mr. Binks ! and what brings you up to Town ?"

THE BOGIE MAN.

(New and Startling Ciyic Version.)
Gog and Magog sing, sotto voce :—

Oh, huddle near us, cherished ones !

Hushed is our civic glee.
The Voters, they have played the fool

About the L. C. C.
Oh, Turtle, dear—at table—

Oh, Griffin, spick and span,
I hear the Civic Fathers say

Here comes the Bogie Man !

Chorus.

Oh, hush! hush! hush !

Here conies the Bogie Man!
What hope, dears, when Bkn Tillett

Is made an Alderman ?
Oh, whist! whist ! whist!

He '11 catch ye if he can!
Then vain you '11 run, my popsey-wops,

From this new Bogie Man I

When we sit down to dinner,

My giant chum and I,
O'er calipash and calipee

We 're both inclined to cry.

For if Progressist fingers

Once dip into our pan,
Aloud, but vainly, we may cry,

Whist! whist! the Bogie Man !

Chorus.—Oh, hush! hush ! hush !

Here comes the Bogie Man !
Then hide your heads, my darlings ;

He '11 catch ye if he can.
Then whist! whist! whist!

This new Progressive plan
Would make our popsey-wopsey-wops

Slaves to this Bogie Man !

In vain the Times might thunder,

In vain the Standard squall,
To frighten little Moderates ;

They paid no heed at all
When Churchill tried yah-boohing,

Away the Voters ran
And voted straight, with hearts elate,

For yonder Bogie Man!

Chorus.—Oh, hush! hush! hush!

Here comes the Bogie Man !
He '11 collar all our civic perks,

'Tis his " Progressive " plan.
Oh, whist! whist! whist!

He '11 catch ye if he can.
Heaven save you, my own popsey-wops,

From yonder Bogie Man !

Oh, pets, it gives us quite a shock

To think of your sad fate,
If you shoidd lose your Guildhall rock,

And we be doomed by fate,
For Burns our pride would humble,

No " giants" in his plan !
Oh, Turtle sweet, oh, Griffin neat,

Beware, yon Bogie Man !

Chorus.—Oh, whist! whist! whist!

Here comes the Bogie Man ! [prog,
Gog and Magog, choice wines, good

Are no parts of his plan.
Oh, hush ! hush! hush!

He '11 catch ye if he can!
Progressive "slops," my popsey-wops,

He '11 give—yon Bogey Man !

Oh, IIosebery turned tr-r-raitor,

And Lubbock seemed to cool,
McDougall, now, and Parkinson

May proudly play the fool.
London 's delivered to be ruled

On the " Progressive " plan, [name—
And "Ben" can bear the honoured

Ye gods !—of Alderjian !!!

Chorus.—Oh, hush! hush ! hush !

Here comes the Bogie Man!
Turtle, be cautious ; Griffin, hide!

You 're under his black ban.
Oh, whist! whist! whist!

We '11 save ye, if we can,
My pretty popsey-wopsey-wops,

From yon bad Bogie Man !

To Queen Coal.

(By her Fond but Poor Lover.)

" If thou art not dear to me,
What care I how dear you be! "

BUTTER AND BOSH.

[" Many customers who want Margarine will not
consent to buy it under that name, but insist on its
being called ' Butter.' "—Daily Paper.]

Oh, Wisdom, surely here your words you waste
On men who consciouslv deceive their taste ;
Who cheating self are blindest when they've
seen,

And call that Butter which is Margarine.
"Give me," 'tis thus their sentiments they
utter,

" Firkins of Bosh, but label them as Butter.
Who cares for honest names ? they 're all my
Deoipiatur qui vidt decipi." [eye.