a Navy insufficient cowards croak, deah boys!If our place among the nations we're to keep.
But with British beef, and beer, and hearts of oak, deah boys!—
(With enthusiasm.) We can make a shift to do it—On the Cheap!
Chorus.
(With a common-sense air.) Let us keep, deah boys! On the Cheap, While Britannia is the boss upon the deep, She can wollop an invader, when he comes in his Armada, If she's let alone to do it—On the Cheap!
Second Verse.
(Affectionately.) Johnny Bull is just as plucky as he was, deah boys! (With a knowing wink.) And he's wide awake—no error!—not asleep; But he won't stump up for ironclads—becos, deah boys! He don't see his way to get 'em—On the Cheap!
Chorus.
So keep, deah boys! On the Cheap,
(Gallantly.) And we'll chance what may happen on the deep! For we can't be the losers if we save the cost o' cruisers, And contentedly continue—On the Cheap!
Third Verse.
The British Isles are not the Conti-nong, deah boys!
(Scornfully.) Where the Johnnies on defences spend a heap. No! we're Britons, and we're game to jog along, deah boys! (With pathos.) In the old time-honoured fashion—On the Cheap!
Chorus.
(Imploringly.) Ah! keep, deah boys! On the Cheap; For the price we're asked to pay is pretty steep. Let us all unite to dock it, keep the money in our pocket, And we'll conquer or we'll perish—On the Cheap!
Fourth Verse.
If the Tories have the cheek to touch our purse, deah boys!
Their reward at the elections let 'em reap!
They will find a big Conservative reverse, deah boys!
If they can't defend the country—On the Cheap!
Chorus.
They must keep, deah boys! On the Cheap,
Or the lot out of office we will sweep!
Bull gets rusty when you tax him, and his patriotic maxim
Is, "I'll trouble you to govern—On the Cheap!"
Fifth Verse (this to be sung shrewdly).
If the Gover'ment ain't mugs they'll take the tip, deah boys!
Just to look a bit ahead before they leap,
And instead of laying down an extry ship, deah boys!
They'll cut down the whole caboodle—On the Cheap!
Chorus (with spirit and fervour).
And keep, deah boys! On the Cheap!
For we ain't like a bloomin' lot o' sheep.
When we want to "parry bellum,"[A] [Union Jack to be waved here. You may bet yer boots we'll tell 'em! But we'll have the "bellum" "parried"—On the Cheap!
This song, if sung with any spirit, should, Mr. Punch thinks, cause a positive furore in any truly patriotic gathering, and possibly go some way towards influencing the decision of the country, and consequently the fate of the Empire, in the next General Elections. In the meantime it is at the service of any Champion Music Hall Comique who is capable of appreciating it.
[A] Music-hall Latinity—"Para bellum."
ii.—THE TOPICAL-POLITICAL.
In most respects, no doubt, the present example can boast no superiority to ditties in the same style now commanding the ear of the public. One merit, however, its author does claim for it. Though it deals with most of the burning questions of the hour, it can be sung anywhere with absolute security. This is due to a simple but ingenious method by which the political sentiment has been arranged on the reversible principle. A little alteration here and there will put the singer in close touch with an audience of almost any shade of politics. Should it happen that the title has been already anticipated, Mr. Punch begs to explain that the remainder of this sparkling composition is entirely original; any similarity with previous works must be put down entirely to "literary coincidence." Whether the title is new or not, it is a very nice one, viz:—
BETWEEN YOU AND ME—AND THE POST.
(To be sung in a raucous voice, and with a confidential air.)
I've dropped in to whisper some secrets I've heard.
Between you and me and the Post!
Picked up on the wing by a 'cute little bird.
We are gentlemen 'ere—so the caution's absurd,
Still, you'll please to remember that every word
Is between you and me and the Post!
Chorus (to which the singer should dance).
Between you and me and the Post! An 'int is sufficient at most.
I'd very much rather this didn't go farther, than 'tween you and me and the Post!
At Lord Sorlsbury's table there's sech a to-do.
Between you and me and the Post!
When he first ketches sight of his dinner menoo, And sees he's set down to good old Irish stoo— Which he's sick of by this time—now, tell me, ain't you? Between you and me and the Post!
(This happy and pointed allusion to the Irish Question is sure to provoke loud laughter from an audience of Radical sympathies. For Unionists, the words "Lord Sorlsbury's"can be altered by our patent reversible method into "the G. O. M.'s," without at all impairing the satire.) Chorus, as before.
The G. O. M.'s hiding a card up his sleeve.
Between you and me and the Post!
Any ground he has lost he is going to retrieve,
And what his little game is, he'll let us perceive, And he'll pip the whole lot of 'em, so I believe, Between you and me and the Post! (Chorus.)
(The
