Alas! before 'twas grasped it flew,
Alarmed by, "Git yer 'air cut!"
I strayed in silent solitude
That lost thought to recover,
And, as my journey I pursued,
'Twould still around me hover.
Almost I grasped, one fatal day,
That fancy, quaint and clever,
A cad shrieked, "Tara-boom-de-ay!"
And off it flew--for ever!
* * * * *
SUNDAY OBSERVANCE.
[Illustration]
WHAT a shocking state of things,
Oh, my goodness, Mrs. GRUNDY!
There's a man that plays and sings
In a Blackpool hall on Sunday!
Oh, what wickedness, oh, dear!
Sunday music! What a scandal!
Folks might even go and hear
Things by HAYDN or by HANDEL!
Rush and find some obsolete
Act of wise and pious GEORGES,
Which will help us to defeat
Such abominable orgies!
But here's worse news, I declare;
Gracious patience, Mrs. GRUNDY!
Eastbourne people cannot bear
Nice Salvation bands on Sunday!
Acts, not words, again we need,
Just to show them they are silly.
Sunday Music stopped? Indeed,
They _must_ like it, willy nilly!
* * * * *
THEATRES AND MUSIC HALLS COMMISSION.
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