Volume 102 — THE BOGIE MAN.
Reading edition
(NEW AND STARTLING CIVIC 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 comes the Bogie Man! What hope, dears, when BEN TILLETT Is made an Alderman? Oh, whist! whist! whist! He'll catch ye if he can! Then vain you'll run, my popsey-wops, From this new Bogie Man! 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'll 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'll collar all our civic perks, 'Tis his "Progressive" plan. Oh, whist! whist! whist! He'll 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 should 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! GOG and MAGOG, choice wines, good prog. Are no parts of his plan. Oh, hush! hush! hush! He'll catch ye if he can! Progressive "slops," my popsey-wops, He'll give—yon Bogey Man! Oh, ROSEBERY 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, And "BEN" can bear the honoured name— Ye gods!—of ALDERMAN!!! 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'll 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 consciously 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 eye. Decipiatur qui vult decipi."
THE BOGIE MAN.
"HUSH! HUSH! HUSH! HERE COMES THE BOGIE MAN! "THEN HIDE YOUR HEADS, MY DARLINGS; HE'LL CATCH YOU IF HE CAN!"