DORA AT THE PLAY.
["You cannot buy a cigarette, or an ice, or a box of chocolates in a theatre after eight o'clock—by order of D.O.R.A."—Advt. passim.]
Attentive swain, whose lady has commanded you to be at her
Disposal as an escort on a visit to the theatre,
I give you precious doctrine that is certainly worth sticking to,
At least as long as Dora is alive on earth and kicking too.
If you would keep your fair companion satisfied and cheery, some
Provision must be made to fill the intervals so wearisome,
For many a gallant fellow has discovered with a shock o' late
That after 8 p.m. it's still a crime to sell a chocolate.
Though you may haunt the bar till ten and confidently mutter "Scotch,"
She may not even clamour for a humble slab of butterscotch,
And should the heat suggest an ice—may I be rolled out flat if I
Distort the truth—it's courting gaol that harmless wish to gratify.
As for yourself, if you should yearn for blest tobacco's medium
In those long waits between the Acts to while away the tedium,
And find you're out of cigarettes, remember that to sell any
A minute past the fatal hour is counted as a felony.
Unless the pair of you affect the life ascetic, you'll
Be well advised to carry in a hamper or a reticule
A goodly store of provender, both smokeable and eatable,
For Dora's in the saddle yet and seemingly unseatable.