THE FUTURE HOPED BY HAWKINS.
(A Cockney Carol by a cruelly-used Coster-Investor. With apologies to clever Albert Chevalier.)
["I desire to express, and I cannot do it too strongly, that there is no credit to be attached to the conduct of the directors in this particular case. It would be more satisfactory to me if directors had a proper sense of their responsibility. It is a cruel thing that people should be deluded out of their savings by high-sounding names. At the same time, there is no criminal law which will punish a director who scandalously neglects his duty, though he takes his money. I think the law might well be altered."—Mr. Justice Hawkins.]
Air.—"The Future Mrs. 'Awkins."
I'm done, my little doner! I'm jest about a goner!
My savings all U. P.!
You always said I shouldn't; but resist big names I couldn't,
No, they fairly nobbled me.
Now Mister Justice 'Awkins, 'onest 'Enery Hawkins,
Some Directors' wool does comb.
So 'elp me bob, I'm crazy. I must ha' bin a daisy!
Won't it bust our 'umble 'ome!
(Spoken or sung.) Won't it!
O Lizer! Sweet Lizer!
If I die in the Big 'Ouse, I'll only 'ave myself to blame.
D'y'ear, Lizer? Dear Lizer!
Fancy me bein' nicked by a 'igh-soundin' name!
At their sly board-meetin's wot must be their greetin's!
Oh, they knows wot they're about!
The public tin they close up, at us turns their nose up—
Fox and Guinea-pigs—no doubt.
I likes their style, dear Lizer. Ain't it a surpriser?
Cop me on the 'op like this!!!
Sure, I must be dreamin'! In my sleep start screamin'.
There, don't cry, old gal! Let's kiss!
(Spoken or sung.) Come now!
O Lizer! Dear Lizer!
If I lose yer luv by this I'll only 'ave myself to blame!
D'y'ear, Lizer? Dear Lizer!
'Onest 'Enery 'Awkins sez it's a dashed shame!
Hartful as a "bonnet," you depend upon it,
Mister Fox, with tail sly-curled!
Jest about the sweetest, neatest, and completest
Diddle in the wide, wide world.
Wot sez 'Enery 'Awkins, 'onest 'Enery 'Awkins?
Law wants alterin' right away.
P'raps it may be one day, but were it next Monday,
Me and you 'twould not repay!
(Spoken or sighed.) Would it?
O Lizer! Sweet Lizer!
Strikes me wot is called the Law is often fuss, and fraud, and fudge!
But dear Lizer! D'y'ear, Lizer?
Mister Justice 'Awkins is a fust-class Judge!
Query at some Fashionable Sea-side Resort.—Do the unpleasant odours noticeable at certain times arise from the fact of the tide being high? If so, is the tide sometimes higher than usual, as the—ahem!—odours certainly are?
Shakspearian Question to a Company.—(To be replied to in the negative.)—"What, are you Hansard yet?" (Mer. of Venice, iv., 1.)
Song for an Emperor after a (Friendly) Visit to Canossa.—
"Be it ever so humbling, there's no place like Rome!"