At Lord Sorlsbury's table there's sech a to-do.
Between you and me and the Post!
When he first ketches sight of his dinner menoo,
And sees he's set down to good old Irish stoo—
Which he's sick of by this time—now, tell me, ain't you?
Between you and me and the Post!
(This happy and pointed allusion to the Irish Question is sure to provoke loud laughter from an audience of Radical sympathies. For Unionists, the words "Lord Sorlsbury's" can be altered by our patent reversible method into "the G. O. M.'s," without at all impairing the satire.) Chorus, as before.
The G. O. M.'s hiding a card up his sleeve.
Between you and me and the Post!
Any ground he has lost he is going to retrieve,
And what his little game is, he'll let us perceive,
And he'll pip the whole lot of 'em, so I believe,
Between you and me and the Post! (Chorus.)
(The hit will be made quite as palpably for the other side by substituting "Lord Sorlsbury's," &c., at the beginning of the first line, should the majority of the audience be found to hold Conservative views.)
Little Randolph won't long be left out in the cold.
Between you and me and the Post!
If they'll let him inside the Conservative fold,
He has promised no longer he'll swagger and scold,
But to be a good boy, and to do as he's told,
Between you and me and the Post! (Chorus.)
(The mere mention of Lord Randolph's name is sufficient to ensure the success of any song.)
Joey Chamberlain's orchid's a bit overblown,
Between you and me and the Post!
(This is rather subtle, perhaps, but an M.-H. audience will see a joke in it somewhere, and laugh.)
'Ow to square a round table I'm sure he has shown.