RHINO!
First Verse.
First Sister (placing three of the fingers of her left hand on her heart, and extending her right arm in timid appeal).
Dear sister, of late I'm beginning to doubt
If the world is as black as they paint it.
It mayn't be as bad as some try to make out——
Second Sister (with an elaborate mock curtsy.) That is a discovery! Mayn't it?
First S. (abashed). I'm sure there are sev'ral who aren't a bad lot,
And some sort of principle seem to have got,
For they act on the square——
Second S. Don't you talk tommy-rot!
It's done for advertisement, ain't it?
Refrain.
Second S. Why, there's nobody at bottom any better than the rest!
First S. Are you sure of it?
Second S. I'm telling you, and I know,
The principle they act upon's whatever pays 'em best.
And the only real religion now is—Rhino!
[The last word must be rendered with full metallic effect. A step-dance, expressive of conviction on one part and incipient wavering on the other, should be performed between the verses.
Second Verse.
First S. (returning, shaken, to the charge). Some unmarried men lead respectable lives.
Second S. (decisively). Well, I've never happened to meet them!
First S. There are husbands who're always polite to their wives.
Second S. Of course—if their better halves beat them!
First S. Some tradesmen have consciences, so I've heard said;
Their provisions are never adulteratèd,
But they treat all their customers fairly instead.
Second S. 'Cause they don't find it answer to cheat them!
Refrain.
First S. What?
Second S. { No,—They're none of 'em at bottom any better than the rest.
Second S. I'm speaking from experience, and I know.
If you could put a window-pane in everybody's breast
You'd see on all the hearts was written—"Rhino!"
Third Verse.
First S. There are girls you can't tempt with a title or gold.
Second S. There may be—but I've never seen one.
First S. Some much prefer love in a cottage, I'm told.
Second S. (putting her arms a-kimbo). If you swallow that, you're a green one!
They'll stick to their lover so long as he's cash,
When it's gone, they look out for a wealthier mash.
A girl on the gush talks unpractical trash—
When it comes to the point, she's a keen one!
Refrain.
First S. Then, are none of us at bottom any better than the rest!
Second S. (cheerfully). Not a bit; I am a girl myself and I know.
First S. You'd surely never give your hand to someone you detest?
Second S. Why rather—if he's rolling in the Rhino!
Fourth Verse.
First S. Philanthropists give up their lives to the poor.
Second S. It's chiefly with tracts they present them.
First S. Still, some self-denial I'm sure they endure?
Second S. It's their hobby, and seems to content them.
First S. But don't they go into those horrible slums?
Second S. Sometimes—with a flourish of trumpets and drums.
First S. I've heard they've collected magnificent sums.
Second S. And nobody knows how they've spent them!
Refrain.
Second S. Oh, they're none of 'em at bottom any better than the rest!
They are only bigger hypocrites, as I know;
They've famous opportunities for feathering their nest,
When so many fools are ready with the Rhino!
Fifth Verse.
First S. Our Statesmen are prompted by duty alone.
Second S. (compassionately). Whoever's been gammoning you so?
First S. They wouldn't seek office for ends of their own?
Second S. What else would induce 'em to do so?
First S. But Time, Health, and Money they all sacrifice.
Second S. I'd do it myself at a quarter the price.
There's pickings for all, and they needn't ask twice,
For they're able to put on the screw so!
Refrain (together).
No, they're none of 'em at bottom any better than the rest!
They may kid to their constituents—but I know;
Whatever lofty sentiments their speeches may suggest,
They regulate their actions by the Rhino!
[Here the pair will perform a final step-dance, indicative of enlightened scepticism, and skip off in an effusion of sisterly sympathy, amidst enthusiastic applause.
x.—DISINTERESTED PASSION.
When a Music-hall singer does not treat of the tender passion in a rakish and knowing spirit, he is apt to exhibit an unworldliness truly ideal in its noble indifference to all social distinctions. So amiable a tendency deserves encouragement, and Mr. Punch has much pleasure in offering the following little idyl to the notice of any Mammoth Comique who may happen to be in a sentimental mood. It is supposed to be sung by a scion of the nobility, and the artiste will accordingly present himself in a brown "billy-cock" hat, a long grey frock-coat, fawn-coloured trousers, white "spats," and primrose, or green, gloves—the recognised attire of a Music-hall aristocrat. A powerful,—though not necessarily tuneful,—voice is desirable for the adequate rendering of this ditty; any words it is inconvenient to sing, can always be spoken.