The flags run up, and the Admiral says, 'Now, Sirs,
Buck up and send the Huns to Davy Jones!'
Then the Captain cheers, and the men hitch up their trousers,
And they all give Hohenzollern three groans!
"There it is;" and the Great Man fairly purred with satisfaction. "Une petite pièce de tout droit, isn't it?" he said. "I gave you a hint of the tune. It needs a stirring one."
"It does," said I, delighted to be able to agree with him on one point. "And you have other songs equally topical?"
He pointed to a bale in the corner that I had taken for a new carpet. "I've had a good few to choose from," he said. "I fancy this one is about the best. My leading low-comedian writes all his own lyrics—extraordinarily adequate little man. He opens briskly:—
"Pip-pip, girls!
As I was walking down the street,
Because it couldn't walk down me,