THOSE SILENT BOOTS
Burglar’s Ballad. Air—“Those Evening Bells.”
Those silent boots! Those silent boots!
When out upon our gay galoots,
’Twill give us coves the bloomin’ jumps,
If we carn’t hear the copper’s clumps!
’Ave bobby’s bluchers passed away?
That there will bust the burglar’s lay!
Wot, silent “slops”—like evening swells?
It’s wus than them electric bells!
No, no! I ’opes, till I am gone,
The bobby’s boots will still clump on.
Their warnin’ sound our bizness soots,
But bust the thought o’ silent boots!
“The Windy Side of the Law.”—Which side is this? Go into a solicitor’s office: you’ll soon be able to answer the question when you get near a draught.
The only Company not Limited by Act of Parliament.—Bad company.
Note by our own Irrepressible One.—A solicitor who is struck off the rolls has generally been eating someone else’s bread.
THE TERRORS OF THE LAW
The New Act again. Different Points of View.—Magistrate. “You are charged with having been drunk when in charge of a child under the age of seven years.”
Prisoner. “Please, your worship, she was a-takin’ me ’ome.”