WHEN THE "CAT"'S AWAY!
Air—"The Sergeant's Song."
When the "Cat" is not engaged in its employment—
Right employment,
Of laying its nine tails on brutal backs—
Brutal backs,
Street gangs of roughs are free to find employment—
Bad employment,
In beleaguering the cit's returning tracks—
Homeward tracks.
Our feelings we with difficulty smother—!
'Culty smother,
At finding ruffian hordes at rowdy "fun"—
Rowdy fun.
Taking one consideration with another—
With another,
One feels that something stringent should be done—
Promptly done!
There's the pistol-bearing burglar boldly burgling—
Boldly burgling,
There's the female fiend engaged in cruel crime—
Cruel crime.
There's the bashed, half-throttled traveller lying gurgling—
Faintly gurgling,
And the "Cat" is lying idle all the time—
All the time.
There's the brutal bully kicking wife or mother—
Wife or mother,
The unnatural father torturing his son—
Childish son!
Ah, take one consideration with another—
With another,
It's surely time that something stern were done—
Quickly done!
When the "Cat" was laid about the brute garrotter—
Cur garrotter,
He soon found it inadvisable to choke—
'Ble to choke.
And the lout who of street-outrage is a plotter—
Callous plotter,
Would not deem the nine-tailed lash a little joke—
Pleasant joke.
The woman-beating brute would hardly smother—
Scarcely smother,
His howlings when the lash was well laid on—
Well laid on.
So, take one consideration with another—
With another,
The "Cat" should once again be called upon—
Called upon.
The "corner-boys," and larrikins, and suchlike—
Louts and suchlike,
Who rove the streets at night in rowdy gangs—
Robber-gangs,
The tingling o' the nine tails might not much like—
Would not much like,
But that need not stir sentimental pangs—
Maudlin pangs.
"Gang-boy" to brute Garrotter is just brother—
Simply brother.
The "Cat" away such vermin prowl—for "fun"—
Savage fun!
Yes, take one consideration with another—
With another,
The "Cat" should wake again, says Punch for one—
Punch for one!
The policeman seems unequal to the job—
Toughish job.
The constabulary fails to quell the mob—
Rowdy mob.
So, as, very plainly, something must be done—
Promptly done,
The suggestion of the "Cat"'s a happy one—
Happy one!
[And Mr. Punch, with picture and poem (grimly earnest, though of Gilbertian tone) urges its application energetically home, upon the powers that be.
