A Comic Song for Serious Consideration.
(By an Elderly Victim of Bumbledom.)
["The London Vestries and Boards of Works have not exactly covered themselves with glory in their dealings with the recent snowfall. In very few neighbourhoods was any attempt made on Wednesday to remove the slush, and Nature having taking her course during the night, in the direction of a frost early yesterday morning, the streets in many places were absolutely impassable for wheeled traffic until a liberal layer of sand and gravel had been spread."—Daily Chronicle, January 4.]
Air—"The Bogie Man."
Come, gather round me, ratepayers,
So full of fun and glee;
New Bumble's going to play the fool
To please the L. C. C.
They swear that he is able
Improvements for to plan;
I love to hear Progressives say,
"Hush! The New Vestryman!"
Chorus.
Slush! Slush!! Slush!!!
Where is the Vestryman?
Are broom and shovel ready?
What is his brand new plan?
Oh, Slush! Slush! Slush!—
The footways never ran
With a worse slithery slippery slop,
'Neath the Old Vestryman.
When I sit down, impromptu,
All in a soft snow-pie;
Or slide a yard, then come down hard,
I groan, and wonder why.
I blow my blue numb fingers,
I watch a fast-stuck van;
Reform, I cry, seems all my eye.
Where is that Vestryman?
Chorus.
Slush! Slush!! Slush!!!
Why is this, Vestryman?
Is this the outcome shady
Of the Progressive plan?
Oh, Slush! Slush! Slush!
No gravel, sand, or tan!
All slip and slop. I'd like to whop
That blessed Vestryman!!!
