Tom and Jerry; or, Life in London.
Tune.—“Picture of a Playhouse.”
Of Life in London, Tom, Jerry, and Logic I sing,
’Tis a subject (I hope it will please)
Men and boys in my ears long time they did ding,
So I determined to risk a good squeeze—
To the Strand then I toddled—the mob it was great—
My watch I found gone—pockets undone:
I fretted, at first, and rail’d against fate,
For I paid well to see “Life in London.”
Spoken.-“La, vel now, if I a’n’t all of a perspiration,—positively, I’m in a melting mood;” this was uttered by a tallow chandler’s fat wife. Her hubby, Mr. Wicks, cries out “What the devil are you talking about melting?—for my part, I hate mention of business when I’m out on pleasure.” “Come, don’t be dipping in my pocket, if you please, Sir.” “Vat, vat is de matter?” “Wat! who’s talking of wats?” “Vy, my dear Mr. Vicks, I think this man’s making a reticule of me.” “By the powers! it is a very fortunate circumstance he be making a reticule for you, Ma’am, for that there young man, in the drab great coat, has just cut yours from the chain, and put it in his pocket.” “Mind what you’re arter, mind your pockets.” “Where are you pushing to?” “Where am I pushing to? I’m pushing
To see Tom and Jerry,
The lads who delight in
A bottle of Sherry
And watch to be fighting,
For that’s the time o’ day.
In the course of the piece is the parlour of Cribb,
There they chaunted their songs full of glee;
In the chair sits blythe Tom, he’s the real boy to fib,
And he’s also the boy for a spree.
The street-row comes next, and is kept up so well,
That I laugh’d and never wish’d the fun done,
Those who play Charlies, I’m sure they can tell
What a street-row is in fam’d London.
Spoken.—“La! now, is this not a delightful picture of life! how do you like it, my dear?” “Oh Mamma, I likes it very well, only one thing is, I’m sorry I didn’t bring some hapennies out of my money-box, to give the poor beggar-people.” “Dear little innocent!” “Was you innocent when you was little, Mamma?” “Yes, my love.” “But, are you innocent now, Mamma?” “Why, yes—that is to say—as most women of my age are, my dear.” “Well. Mr. O’Quiz, how do you like the piece?” “Faith, now, the piece is very well, only one thing.” “And what may that be, pray?” “Why, I’m not inclined to make any objection at all, at all: but, by my soul! this is the first time I ever saw or heard of Life in St. Giles’s, without an Irishman being concerned in it.” “Hollo! what is all this hubbubboo?” “Why, it’s the half price, pushing in
To see Tom and Jerry, &c.
High life and low life are correctly pourtrayed
At Almack’s, I mean both the East and the West.
The actor’s look life, they so well are arrayed,
But the Back Slums to my mind is surely the best.
Logic a party invites to give them a treat,
The bailiff comes in and Bob’s undone;
He by Nab’em is press’d and ta’en to the Fleet,
Which brings to a close Life in London.
Spoken.—The piece being over, there’s a grand rush to the doors: then, hey for the pleasures of a soaking wet night. “Well, positively, ’pon honor, if it does’nt rain; its enough to make any one cross when one’s going out to a ball.” “Want a coach your honor?” “Yes, drive me to St. Paul’s.” “What, in the name of St. Patrick, can he want at the cross and ball of St. Paul’s at this time of night?” “Oh! bless my soul! I think I’ve broken my leg.” “Coach to Cripplegate.” “I say, look at that Cove diving at that Gent’s pocket.” “I hope you’ll excuse me, but I’ve got a cold, therefore want my hankerchief; but, as you’re so fond of diving, I’ll accommodate you—the Thames is near, and you shall have a dam’d good ducking.” “All right, Coachee.” “Watch! Watch!” “Hark! the Pianos going.” “Watch! Watch!” “What’s the row?” “Oh! only some fancy Lads, who, having seen the Charlies well mill’d inside, have already commenced milling them outside, and the word with them is
We’re like Tom and Jerry, &c.