"To a streamlet we rambled together.
I carried her tenderly o'er.
In my arms—she's as light as a feather—
That sweetest of burdens I bore!"
First Censor. I really must protest. No properly conducted young woman would ever have permitted such a thing. You must alter that, Mr. Wheedler!
Second C. And I don't know—but I rather fancy there's a "double-intender" in that word "light"—(to colleague)—it strikes me—eh?—what do you think?——
The Chairman (in a conciliatory manner). I am inclined to agree to some extent—not that I consider the words particularly objectionable in themselves, but we are men of the world, Mr. Wheedler, and as such we cannot shut our eyes to the fact that a Music-hall audience is only too apt to find significance in many apparently innocent expressions and phrases.
Mr. W. But, Sir, I understood from your remarks recently that the Democracy were strongly opposed to anything in the nature of suggestiveness!
The Ch. Exactly so; and therefore we cannot allow their susceptibilities to be shocked. (With a severe jocosity.) Molly and you, Mr. Wheedler, must either ford the stream like ordinary persons, or stay where you are.
Mr. W. (depressed). I may as well read the last verse, I suppose:
"Then under the flickering willow
I lay by the rivulet's brink,
With her lap for a sumptuous pillow——"
First Censor. We can't have that. It is really not respectable.
The Ch. (pleasantly). Can't we alter it slightly? "I'd brought a small portable pillow." No objection to that!