Well, p'raps in your green tooral-looral you don't hear so much of the New;
But in town with New Art, and New Women, New Drammer, New Humour, and such,
There seems nothink old left in creation, save four-arf, and Dannel's old Dutch.
She's old, and no hapricots, Charlie. But Dannel's a decentish sort,
And the way as she lays down the law about up-to-date woman is sport.
'Er nutcrackers clitter and clatter; and when she is fair on the shout,
Concernin' fresh feminine fashions, you bet it's a reglar knock-out!
I took Lil, Dannel's youngest, larst week to the play, with some tickets I'd got.
Well, paperers mustn't be choosers. But oh, mate, of all the dashed rot
They ever chucked over the footlights, this 'ere Probblem Play wos the wust!