THE LIBRARY [HE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES THE FIVE NOTIONS By the Same Author THE UNSPEAKABLE SCOT SIXTH EDITION Crown 8vo, buckram, 55. Cheap edition paper covers, designed, is. net "A very brilliant and rather scandalous piece of work." The Pilot. " The most candid book of the new cen- tury." The Sketch. " A well-written, hard-hitting and amusing book." /St. James's Gazette. LOVELY WOMAN FOURTH EDITION Crown Svo, buckram, 53. " You would think, if it is impossible to indict a whole nation, it would be even more impossible to indict a whole sex. But Mr. Crosland does it." Daily Chronicle. "Much that our author says is only too true." The Filot. LONDON: GRANT KICHAEDS THE FIVE NOTIONS BY T. W. H. CROSLAND LONDON GRANT RICHARDS 1903 NOTE " The Five Notiws," "M.C.," "Books," "South Africa," and " The White Mans Burden," are hereby published for the first time. Of the other pieces, fourteen have not hitherto been printed in book form. The remaining seven are reproduced by arrangement ivith the Unicorn Press from " Other People'* Wings " and " The Absent-Minded Mule." ?R CONTENTS PAGE THE FIVE NOTIONS 'E 'ath Five Notions 'ath R. K. 13 M.C. I wish my mother could see me now, with a flat hat under my arm . 1 9 BOOKS We're fools slog slog slog sloggin' over London town . . 24 SOUTH AFRICA Lived a woman, wonderful ... 27 THE WHITE MAN'S BURDEN Take up the White Man's burden . . 31 937C viii THE FIVE NOTIONS PAGE HOSPITAL I goes unto a 'orspital to see a pal o' mine 34 THE BEGINNING As Adam sat a-thinking .... 37 THE VOLUNTEER There was a little man .... 40 ERRORS Oh, war's a thing of beauty ... 43 BOBS There's a little man we know . . 45 CRITICS As our father the Devil, becultured and fine 48 THE NEW ISSUE Uncle Sam, I'm sartin sure you hev some sense ....... 51 PITCHED OUT I'm sittin in the 'Ouse, Mary . . 53 CONTENTS ix PACK MYSTERY The man who writes the Mudie-books . 56 ST. PATRICK Och, what ye tell me .... 59 MINOR I went into a publisher's as woeful as a hearse ...... 6l CHOCOLATE Ho, says the Queen, says she, these 'ere Mister Atkinses ..... 65 DODGES A fat man went out walking ... 68 THE PUBLIC Oh, the years we waste and the tears we waste ... . .71 THE BOLD MILITIAMAN There ain't no kind of soldier . . IS THE ABSENT-MINDED MULE When you're walking out your Glouces- ters and your Irish Fusiliers . . 76 x THE FIVE NOTIONS PAGE PRIMROSE DAY When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold . . 81 THE MAN IN THE STREET O the Man in the Street is an excellent man ....... 84 THE HEATHEN CHINEE Which I wish to remark ... 86 THROUGH We have muddled through ... 89 SLAIN You who are still and white ... .90 THE BLOOD Ye are very strong, O sons of mine . 92 THE FIVE NOTIONS THE FIVE NOTIONS 'E 'ath Five Notions 'ath R. K., For to put in 'is 'eavenly song, An', come to think of it, I say That every one of 'em is wrong. 'E 'ath a notion that the War Was a Imperial beano, gave By a 'eroic people for A people twenty times as brave. An' if you take his little book An' read wherever you may choose, Tho' you may look, an' look, an' look, You won't see nothin' of no Jews. 14 THE FIVE NOTIONS As if old England, once agen, Raged in the field for honour's sake ! An' certain 'Ebrew gentlemen 'Ad got no interests at stake ! 'E 'ath a notion that the boys 'Oo ran that War was 'owlin' fools, 'Oo thought their 4.7's was toys, Likewise, their camps was Sunday Schools. Johnnies 'oo talked so bloomin' well That when they spoke it made you cry, An' blew each other into 'Ell All out of Christian charity. An' cracked the movin' patriot wheeze, An' patronised ' this world so wide,' An' 'eld each other's arteries An' so on, till each other died. THE FIVE NOTIONS 15 As if there was no murderin' On either side, no jag, no bust, No 'riginal an' no mortal sin, No 'orrid 'ate, no wicked lust ! 'E 'ath a notion that C. Rhodes Was, very nearly, the Most 'Igh, An' that South African abodes Send up their smoke into " his sky." Ar you might think from Rudyard's lines That Cecil went about in white : 'E never owned no dimon mines, 'E drank no fizz with Verner Beit ! My aunt 'is sky ! The sky was wot, Tho' all things else choked up 'is cab, 'E most distinctly 'adn't got An' most distinctly couldn't grab. 16 THE FIVE NOTIONS As if he weren't that sort of man, Fonder 'n you an' me of pelf, As if 'is Gawdalmighty plan Didn't mean nothin' for 'isself ! E 'ath a notion 'e 's the Bee 'Oo 'ath the 'Oney suckle found In silly Sussex by the Sea : O, a fair ground O, a fair ground ! Where clerks is worked so very late, An' trippers venture up the pole, An' gilt-edged toffs recuperate Outside the 'Otel Potremole. An' scallops is so bloomin' cheap, An' vittles is so bad an' dear, An' Captain Collins ploughs the deep, An' everyone says, ' Look-it-'ere ! ' THE FIVE NOTIONS As if, becos 'e 'ad a place At Rottin'dean upon the map, 'E likewise 'ad a Sussex face An' was a proper Sussex chap ! 'E 'ath a notion 'e was sent To be a poet of renown ; An' when 'e's at the instrument The 'eavenly Muses can sit down. Yet, 'e will rhyme you " sward " and " sword," Put " sheep " an' " ship-bell " in one line. An' generally bang the board, An' think it's fine an' think it's fine. He says i's wild white 'orse is " wise," " Wise '' also is 'is turf or sod ; An' all 'is ways he justifies By callin' on the Lord 'is God. B 18 THE FIVE NOTIONS As if the Lord 'is God don't like A little care in poetses lays, As if it weren't a sin to skrike When you might warble in 'Is praise ! M.C. (THE HIGHER MUSICAL CRITICS) I WISH my mother could see me now, with a flat hat under my arm, And a bit of silk tucked up my cuff to wipe my brow when it's warm, Sitting in Covent Garden foyer, in a collar that strangles me : I used to be a reporter once, Leicester, Nottingham, Wigan once, Newcastle, Thames Embankment once, But now I am M.C. That is what we are known as we are the crowd that bawls "What d'ye think of it Muggins" out of the " A'' row of stalls. 20 THE FIVE NOTIONS We are the chaps that always say "staff," when we're buying the Scotch-whiskee We are the chronic Johnnies ! Roll up the M.C. ! My 'ands are spotty with ink-stains, my shirt is a dirty blue, My swallowtails have gone shiney, but that don't matter to you. And never mind which dam column I write, nor what my paper may be, I wrote on Art in the Dishcloth once, I wrote the fashions in Petticoats once, I used to be on the Cheesemonger once, But now I am M.C. That is what we are known as we are the 'oly push That likes to be caught on the Opera stairs and crushed in the Opera crush, And brings its Ma to an off-night show, looking sadly decolletee, We are the regular Johnnies We are the M.C. M.C. 21 And when the Opera " closes its doors," and the Concerts start, you know, Around the town with our wife, Mrs. Brown, we giggle and babble and blow, And if there's any Strauss to the fore, we're glad as glad can be, We used to butter De Lara once, We all went mad on De Lara once (Once, my ducky, an' only once) Since we have been M.C. That is what we are known as we are the beggars that got Three hours " to learn orchestration " an' six days to master the lot Gounod, Berlioz, Verdi, Wagner, and Tschaikowskee We are the musical Johnnies ! We are the M.C. I wish my mother could see me now,, she bein'~a woman o' sense, When I ride like a gentleman up to Queen's 'All and back at the office expense. 22 THE FIVE NOTIONS I really can't understand what I've done that such, luck should happen to me, I used to think it ridiculous once, I wouldn't ha' thought it possible once, A penny 'bus was my mark once, But now I am M.C. That is what we are known as we are the Johnnies you view Standing up in the alleys when there's anything on that's new, Whisperin ' an' grinnin' together, settlin' things to a t," " I think you are right old chappie, we'll both say the same " M.C ! I wish myself could talk to myself as I left him two seasons ago, I could tell 'im a lot that would 'elp 'im a lot in matters he ought to know. To think of the ignorant, blushful kid yours truly used to be ! M.C. 23 Why, I tried to learn the piano once ! I got as far as "The Keel Row " once ! In Farmer's excellent "tutor" once! And now I am M.C. ! That is what we are known as we are the boys that have been Nearly a year at the musical graft, smelt it, an' felt it, an' seen, We are the 'igher critics, and we can't tell A from G, My Gawd ! go and read in the papers the stuff that we sign M,C. ! Night night, Johnnies ! Sorry you 'ave to go ! Mop up the drink in your glasses, let your fountain- pens flow, Turn out the lights on the front boys, send up your pars to Room B, Let's 'ave a drink at the Savage. Here's to the rorty M.C. ! BOOKS (ACCORDING TO THE PUBLISHERS) WE'RE fools slog slog slog sloggin' over London town. Sub sub sub sub scribin' in the provinces Books books books books, comin' in and not goin' out again ! That's what gives us the 'ump ! Seven three thirteen two twenty-six the sales to-day ! Four two twenty-six thirteen seven the day before ! Books books books books, comin' in and not goin' out again ; Lordy, ain't it a trade ? BOOKS 25 Don't don't don't don't look at what's in front of you ; Books books books books, comin' in and not goin' out again ! Men men men men men go mad with watchin' 'em, An' the paper-maker knockin' at the door Try try try try to think o' something dif- ferent Oh my God keep me from goin' lunatic ! Books books books books, comin' in an' not goin' out again ! An' the printer here once more. Count count count count the bills upon that file, my boy, If your eyes dropped out, I shouldn't be sur- prised : Books books books books, comin' in an' not goin' out again, An' the binder shoutin' for a cheque. 26 THE FIVE NOTIONS We can stick out, hard work, thirst, an' weari- ness But not not not not the chronic sight of 'em Books books books books, comin' in an' not goin' out again, An' the author shiverin' on the stairs. 'Tain't so bad by day because o' company, But night brings wild dreams o' forty thousand million, Books books books books, comin' in and not goin' out again, An' a place in Carey Street. I 'ave spent six months in 'Ell an' certify It is not fire devils or anything But books books books books comin' in an' not goin' out again, That gives us all the 'ump. SOUTH AFRICA LIVED a woman, wonderful (May the Lord defend her !) Possibly she was not true, But the sparkle of her drew Hebrew gentlemen a few Hotly to attend her. Hebrew gentlemen a few, From Berwick 1 unto Dover ; For she wath South Africa, And she wath South Africa, She wath our South Africa, Africa all over ! * There are no Jews iii Scotland. OLD BALLAD. 28 THE FIVE NOTIONS Half her land was dead with drouth, (Yeth, my dear, let's whithper), She was fenced with fire and sword, But some little holes we bored, Gold and diamonds thence outpoured, So we all thaid Mithpah ! True, ah true, an! over true, That ith why we lave hei / For she ith South Africa, And she ith South Africa, She ith our South Africa, Africa all over / Bitter hard her black men toiled, Groaning, " How they work us ! " We got very rich indeed, She for prospering Jacob's seed Got the usual woman's meed, And a gaudy Circus. In the end she showed some teeth, Oh, it wath a pity ! SOUTH AFRICA 29 Seemed to looth her equipoise, Kicked up such a devil's noise, That we had to send the boys Soldiers from the City. They took ship and they took sail, Eager to reprove her, And she fought like any cat, Scratched and yelled and bit and spat, Also gave 'em anti-fat, And they couldn't move her. Nigh three years she fought and fought, Working us much woe there, All her land is dripping red, Many thousands dead as dead, Now they're sitting on her head, And it's safe to go there. Wherefore, being bought by blood, And by blood rethtored 30 THE FIVE NOTIONS To the arms that nearly lost She, becauth of all she cost Other people, is the most Lovelley and adored ! Tholly, Thidney, let them know Thith ith why we love her ! For she ith South Africa, She ith our South Africa, Ith OUR OWN South Africa, Africa all over ! THE WHITE MAN'S BURDEN TAKE up the White Man's burden Go forth at 4 A.M. To start the White Man's engines And run his mills with them, Attend his shining spindles His shuttles where they roar, What time the portly White Man Takes up his morning snore. Take up the White Man's burden, Descend his reeking shafts, Gasp in his red-hot workings And get your air in wafts : And since there is no telling How soon you may be dead, Remember, that fat White Man Is shooting overhead ! 32 THE FIVE NOTIONS Take up the White Man's burden, Behold his stalwart sons ; It's you that's got to keep 'em In rods and dogs and guns, And four-in-hands and valets, And wives and starts-in-life : Don't let the White Man's offspring Be jostled in the strife ! Take up the White Man's burden, Behold his daughter fair, Her healthy Englis h features, Her pretty Engli sh hair ; Your sons she may not marry, She is too proud a peck, But you'll provide her trousseau And her healthy English cheque. Take up the White Man's bm-den, Things are not what they were ; And dwindling British incomes Are causing us much care. THE WHITE MAN'S BURDEN 33 The taxes and the death dues, They make the White Man weep, And when he thinks of WAGES The White Man cannot sleep. Take up the White Man's burden, Tho' you be knaves and dull ; You wouldn't let him perish While you and yours go full. He only asks for justice, His trouble will be sped If you will let him levy A little tax on bread. O White Men who are burdened With White Men who are not, This is the highest wisdom Freeze on to what you've got, Give ear unto their speeches, Be patient with their books But don't you trust a farthing To Joey and his dukes. HOSPITAL I GOES unto a 'orspital to see a pal o' mine 'Go's been shot through both 'is ankles a-fightin' in the line ; I finds that bloomin' 'orspital was a bloomin' workus ward, An' to myself I says, says I, " Now, ain't it jolly 'ard ? It's Tommy this an' Tommy that, an' ' Mind an' slug the Boer ! ' But it's ' Try the Union, Tommy,' when you've made your little score When you've made your little score, my boys, when you've made your little score, You can go and be a porper when you've made your little score." I meets a chap from Montreal a-starvin' in the street, 'E'd done 'is bit at Paarderberg, an' 'ad no grub to eat ; HOSPITAL 35 " Why 'ave they brung me 'ere," 'e says, " acrost the Eastern foam An' made a cadger of a man wot's fairly snug at home ? O, it's Brother this and Brother that, an' 'Kindly shed your blood,' But, when you come to London, bein' a Brother ain't no good It reely ain't no good, my boys, it reely ain't no good : They dump you into London an' London ain't no good." The scene wos changed : I finds myself inside a big 'otel. The tables groaned with vittles, an' the wines wos very swell ; I sees a row of bookets an' a blaze of 'lectric light, An' I heard a fellar say, " Me lords the 'ealth of Sir George White ! " 36 THE FIVE NOTIONS O, it's 'Ero this an' 'Ero that, an' the ladies smile so sweet, While the common British Tommy gets the workus an' the street The workus an' the street, my boys, the workus an' the street, The man that did the jightin gets the workus an' the street. THE BEGINNING As Adam sat a-thinking Over his supper ale, Eve, weary of her distaff, Said " Adam, tell 's a tale ! " . Adam, to do him justice, Went very, very pale. He said, "I do not know one" (This was a trifle slim) ; Eve pouted pretty poutings ; He said, " Well have your whim." We must not blame poor Adam The woman tempted him. 38 THE FIVE NOTIONS He lifted up his flagon And said, " What shall it be ? A tale about a" [Here he drank Deep of the barley bree] And Eve said, " Why not make it About a man and me ? " So Adam made a story, How underneath the moon A man looked on a woman Till he was like to swoon, And how he loved and loved her From April into June. And how in June they quarrelled (About a man, in brief) And how the lady pined and pined And nearly died of grief. [Here to her eye did Eve apply Her pocket-handkerchief.] THE BEGINNING 39 " But in the end/' quoth Adam, " It all came out just-so ; And hand in hand those lovers Unto a church did go. It was a pretty wedding And well, the rest you know." Thus Adam, without thinking, Called down the primal curse, And started Art with fiction Instead of minor verse, Which might have been much better Or might have been much worse. Thus Eve, our common mother, By pretty, female tricks, Helped to bring us, her children, Into our present fix, With footle at six shillings, And stodge at three-and-six. THE VOLUNTEER THERE was a little man A stocky little man And o' nights, when his day's work was done, done, done, He would steadfastly repair To a certain cindered square, And learn to throw a chest and use a gun, gun, gun And learn to throw a chest and use a gun. His tunic didn't fit, And his helmet wouldn't sit, His bayonet hit against him with a flog, flog, flog. And whenever he went out Evil-minded boys would shout : THE VOLUNTEER 41 " Look 'ere, old man, you know you shot that dog, dog, dog- Between ourselves, you really shot that dog ! " The neighbours said, " My eye ! Now ain't he just a guy ? " That is what the neighbours said, said, said. And the drill instructor swore He had never met before A person with so adipose a head, head, head A person half so fat about the head. But the little man was wise, And he learnt his exercise, Till he done it with a little bit in hand, hand, hand ; And he took the public ways All the dusty Saturdays, Content that he might walk behind the band, band, band Content that he might step it to the band. His chance has come at length, He is going upon the strength, He is fairly in the middle of the swim, swim, swim ; 42 THE FIVE NOTIONS And that " second army corps " Won't be heard of any more, For the Government's a-falling back on him, him him O the Government's a-falling back on him ! ERRORS OH, war's a thing of beauty An' most pleasant for to run : You take your sword an' rifle An' your pretty 7 -pound gun ; You step aboard a transport, The wind blows sweet an' fair, An' the blawsted foe gets up to go, Before you're half-way there. (With a Tow-row-rorv /) Don't believe it : I assure you It's a error ! Oh, a soldier he loves fightin' Prefer-ably to beer ; 44 THE FIVE NOTIONS To him, the day of battle Is the nicest in the year ; And when you've been an' dumped him Into the jaws of 'ell, An* he lies out o' bed with a hole in his head, He thinks he's doing well. (With a Torv-row-row /) Don't believe it : I assure you It's a error ! We're the very finest people That breathe the breath of life, Our upper lip is always stiff, We're 'eroes in the strife, An', of course (in a manner of speaking) It follows on its legs That when we're makin' omlicks We needn't break no eggs. (With a Toiv-rotv-row /) Don't believe it : I assure you That's a error "BOBS" THERE'S a little man we know, Name o' Bobs, Comin' out to work the show Our Bobs ; Sixty odd, if 'e's a day, Trifle baldish, trifle grey Which don't matter anyway, Do it, Bobs ? 'E don't gas about the game, Modest Bobs ; But 'e plays it all the same, F.-M. Bobs ; Walkin' ears an' sense an' eyes, Nuffen takes 'im by surprise Try an' get a bloomin' rise Outer Bobs ! 46 THE FIVE NOTIONS 'E's the sort to bring you luck, General Bobs ; An' 'e'll wire you when 'e's stuck, Little Bobs. When they say 'e can't fight Boer, It just sorter makes 'im roar Till his little chest is sore Don't it, Bobs ? When the prospect don't entice, Ring up Bobs ; You will get the best advice Off'n Bobs ; If yer Awmy's put to rout, An' the people's on the shout, An' the 'Orse Guards feels in doubt, Send for Bobs. We are fit for anyfink Under Bobs, Fightin's simply meat and drink When we've Bobs ; "BOBS" 47 All our Generals means biz, All has blood in 'em like fizz, But for general purposes, Gimme Bobs ! So 'ere's to Bobs Bahadur Good old Bobs, Bobs, Bobs ! 'E's our only Transvaalader, Little Bobs, Bobs, Bobs ! Mr. Kipling, I am sure, Won't be angry, if once more We chalk plainly on the floor, " Bless yer, Bobs ! " CRITICS As our father the Devil, becultm-ed and fine, Has work for his children at so much per line, So we, for poor authors, with feather or steel Set down on cheap paper the thing that we feel. For this is our virtue to be of one mood, To spurn what is stupid and puff what is good ; Arraying, displaying all beauties, all faults, And drawing the chalk-line 'twixt true men and dolts. Now pray you consider what toils we endure A-laying down law and a-making cocksure, Till half of our trade seems of that stodgy sort Which overfed barristers practise in court. CRITICS 49 The poor silly writer, intending no wrong, At Springtide and Autumn he cometh along : Then lightless and lightfoot and lurking leap we To show him exactly the man he may be. " Turn here and turn there, take page so-and so, How gracious the words ! how sweetly they flow ! What passion, what vision, what vigour, what grip ! O go forth and purchase ! And that's the straight tip ! " Or, " This is a book of the kind no one wants ; The author is foolish, and openly flaunts His plain lack of wit : he deserves of our stripes, But we haven't no space. Let him serve to light pipes ! " Which is all very well, as the sane will concede, And might be of use, if we only agreed ; But the canons of taste can never be fixed, And, of course, in the long run, the public get mixed. 50 THE FIVE NOTIONS One praises, one blames, and another does both ; To praise or to blame we're exceedingly loth, Wherefore, as a rule, we are " both "-ers, and let The scales swing to balance unfilliped. And yet What see we ? A publisher tearing his hair ! What hear we ? An author indulging in swear ! What make we ? A guinea, or two or say, ten ! What chase we ? Well that's where you have us again ' So times without number we treat you to " shows," Our notices cumber the papers in rows, And the sheen of our pens is like stars on the sea Where the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Notv the Summer s at end, and our peoples take heart, For the dog-days are done that restrained our art ; And, shortly, the works that are gone for to bind Will be loosed (oh he .swift !) to the sport oj our kind. THE NEW ISSUE UNCLE SAM, I'm sartin sure you hev some sense, Otherwise you wuddn't set so on the fence, Otherwise you'd sorter cease fr'm goin' slow, Otherwise you'd kinder kick at lyin' low. In your earlier youth, Sam, you was middlin' pert, Gettin' folks their rights, Sam, even ef it hurt. You would go a-fightin ! punctooal ez the cars, Overhead "Ole Glory," over that the Stars. Sence, you've travelled some, Sam, shakin' of things up, Till you've grow'd ez sinful ez a Bowery pup ; 52 THE FIVE NOTIONS Rings an' trusts an' corners, hev you like the gripes Which, I reckon, Sam'l, orter du fur " Stripes." Also there is Cuby, an the Philippines Sixty thousan' men, Sam, rustin' in your lines, Eatin' of their heads off, tryin' fur the foe, Though you settled Spain, Sam, several months ago. Oh, the cares of Empire ! Oh, the cares of State ! Heavy on your mind, Sam, these hev bin of late : But you're big an' strong, Sam (think how you was reared !) ; You'll come out all right, Sam, ef you don't get skeered. You an' me an' him, Sam ! What's in front of us ? We can see it shinin' clear thru all the fuss : We can make the woi'ld, Sam Work the hull darned show ; It is bound to come, Sam, only hoe your roir ! PITCHED OUT I'M sittin' in the 'Ouse, Mary, With the pore on either hand, I'm sittin' in the 'Ouse, Mary, Who once stood in the Strand And sold the pearly collar stud At " free a penny, Sir," And had a pitch worth fifty quid, Vide the Westminster. The Strand is little changed, Mary, Being muggy now, as then, Its hansoms rattle in my ear, Its 'busmen swear again ; But wot 'es got the flower girls ? An' where oh, bitter loss ! Is the man that sold toy bagpipes Outside of Charing Cross ? 54 THE FIVE NOTIONS 'Tis but a step down Chancery Lane, And the little church stands near, But who would purchase pearly studs In Chancery Lane, my dear ? For Chancery Lane is a lane to itself An' very hard to please, An' it never buys nuffin' at all Except Academies. An' 'es for side streets on my oath, They ain't worth lookin' at, Though they be filled with offices An' oyster shops an' that. The very thought of standing there Is enough to break yer rest ; You might as well go plant yerself In them solemn squares out West. I'm very lonely now, Mary, For the pore make no new friends ; An' luck is luck, an' the pore must take Whatever bad luck sends ; PITCHED OUT 55 But the Strand was all I had, Mary, My livin' and my pride ; There's nothing left to care for now, An' here I am "inside." I'm biddin' you a long farewell, My Mary kind and true ; The 'Ouse is nice an' snug, Mary, But it wouldn't do for you. They say there's bread and work for all, An', at times, a drop of beer ; But I can't forget the muddy Strand And the trade I did, my dear. P.S. They also say I've been took in, That the Strand is still all right, That the 'awker an' his little tray Is not what chokes it quite, Is not wot chokes it quite, my dear, Is not wot chokes it quite, So meet me roun' by the Sesil, love, For I'm comin' out to-night. MYSTERY THE man who writes the Mudie-books He wandered down the Strand : He said, " It is a curious thing, I've a shilling in my hand, And the fictionists with not much more Are a fairly numerous band." The man who writes the poetry Shuffled down Cecil Court : " If there be an art of life," he said, " 'Tis the art of going short ; ' Follow the gleam/ says Tennyson, I do it, and I ort." The man who writes the children's books Tramp' d Henrietta Street : : This establishment is now situated at 48 Leicester Square. MYSTERY 57 His head was bare, his matted hair Was silvery with sleet ; " If I could plant seventeen," he said, " I might make both ends meet." And the men who wrote philosophy, Sermons, and half-a-crown Books in belles-lettres, and so forth, Went up and down the town Crying aloud, " The Lord be thanked, We have incomes of our own ! " Also, the publisher, at home In his little shooting-box, Observed unto his wife, " My love, Ahead of us are rocks. We'll be dragged, I'm sure, to the workhouse door By my huge remainder stocks." Likewise, the thrifty bookseller Wept many a bitter drop : " What is the blessed use ? " he said, " The slump declines to stop ; 58 THE FIVE NOTIONS And if it holds for another month, " I'll have to shut up shop." Ah, sad and sad it is to see Such worthy folk in woe ; To hear them moan, to hear them groan, It hurts one's spirit so ; But what I want to know is this ; Where DO the profits go ? SAINT PATRICK, LOQUITUR (MARCH 1900) OCH, what ye tell me 'Tis as sweet for hearing As the babblingest burn That iver run ; For I do rimimber How, in me hurry, Whin I boxed thim snakes I left out one ! An awful divvle Wid a sting like murder, An' a hiss like whirlwinds, An' a eye like hell, That would go on his belly Throughout all Ireland, An' nowhere he wint Might the folks be well. 60 THE FIVE NOTIONS They've tried to catch him, They've tried to kill him, They've tried to scotch him F'r cinturies. ' An' at last when they chased him Out o' sight (wid the polis) He grinned an' said, " I'm still here, if ye please ! " Says the Queen : " I'll get him, Wid some Irish Guards, now, An' a bit o' shamrock Hung over me door " ; An' begob, she's done it All in a minute Why did no person Thry the same before ? MINOR I WENT into a publisher's as woeful as a hearse, The publisher he ups and says, " Why will you chaps write verse ? " The girl behind the Remington she tittered fit to die, I outs into the street again and to myself says I : O it's verses this, and verses that, and writing 'em is wrong ; But it's " special type and vellum " when you hit on something strong, You hit on something strong, my boys, you hit on something strong, O it's " signed large paper copies " when you hit on something strong. 62 THE FIVE NOTIONS I calls upon an editor a very nice young man- Says he, " Send in your stanzas and we'll use 'em if we can " : Of course I sends 'em to him in the usual bloomin' way, Of course he keeps and keeps 'em, and he's got 'em to this day ! And it's verses this, and verses that, and verses for to burn ; But they set 'em up in pica when the tide begins to turn, The tide begins to turn, my boys, the tide begins to turn, O it's "Two-twelve-six a sonnet" when the tide begins to turn. I prints a little book and puts it round like, for review, Which when you come to think of it is the proper thing to do : MINOR 63 " We have upon our table Mr. Blanky's Leaves that Fall," And " Another little ship of song ! Wants ballast," that was all. And it's verses this, and verses that, and a par to say you've sinned ; But it's fine fat full-page notice when you hit 'em in the wind, You hit 'em in the wind, my boys, you hit 'em in the wind, You're a 'owlin', 'eavenly Milton, when you hit 'em in the wind We aint no 'eavenly Miltons, nor we aint no idiots too, But plodding men with fam'lies, and a pile to make, like you ; And all the time you see us down-at-heel and looking weak We're a-casting of our bread upon the waters, so to speak : 64 THE FIVE NOTIONS For it's verses this, and verses that, and things run pretty rough, But there's Albert Gate in verses if you only write the sttiffi j If you only write the stuff, my boys, if you only write the stuff, O it's yachts and rows of houses if you only write the stuff. CHOCOLATE " Ho," says the Queen, says she, " these 'ere Mister Atkinses, What's always served me decent an' been heedful of my call, Now, poor lambs, they've got to stay an' spend their merry Chrismasses Out upon the veldt an' things a-looking after Paul : Services like these," she says, " ought to bring a man reward, A bit of something extery beside his 'ansome pay." " Ho," says the Queen, says she, " Put it on my little slate, Half a pound of chocolate For Mister Thomas A.'' 66 THE FIVE NOTIONS " Ho," says the Queen, says she, when she goes a-shopping like, " Chrismass gifts is ruinous, and Noo Year's gifts is worse ; Dimins, pearls, and joolery for my great-great-grand- childer Makes a fairish hole into a none too ample purse : All the same," the Queen she says, " Tommy shall not be forgot ; Management, without a doubt, is woman's proper lay." " Ho," says the Queen, says she, " This'll please his nibs, you bet Half a pound of chocolet For Mister Thomas A." " Ho," says the Queen, says she, " dump it into pretty tins, Put my phiz on each of 'em and breek the bloomin' dies, Hurry up them Quakers now; let the stuff be quality ; The tin a sorter keepsake for hisself and kids to prize CHOCOLATE 67 Tommy's got a lot to do, thumping Paul for me and you, A present from the Missis cannot fail to make him gay-" " Ho," says the Queen, says she, " Sixty thousand horse and foot Half a pound of chocolut For Mister Thomas A." DODGES A FAT man went out walking, The morn was fresh and fair, The fat man, being light of heart, Whistled a trivial air. And, suddenly, round a corner, He met a publisher. " Heaven prosper you, young gentleman, And a blessing on our tryst. Here is a little paper Nay, take it I insist You'll fine it most informing : It is my new Spring list. '' To-day I publish ' Incense ' ' For those who are perplexed. DODGES 69 A tale of love and dogma, A sermon without text. The twentieth large edition Is due on Wednesday next. " Also I publish ' Barge Poles ' The work of many years ; A wealth of blinding hepigram On every page appears. When G. M. read this novel He bursted into tears. 11 Also, I have now ready ( The Sage upon the Roof,' A book of curious diction And philosophic spoof, Which Mr. Tumty Tumtum Has kindly read in proof. " And as to Love-Love Letters Why bless your heart ! of course I'm bringing out, immediately, ' Belinda and the Force,' ' Twos sent for publication From a non-existent source. 70 THE FIVE NOTIONS " Ah, yes, the other people They are a trifle slow ; They haven't got the least idea Who wrote their stuff, I vow. In this case it is different The AUTHOR does not know." " Kind sir," quoth Mr. Fatman, " You do me good. God wot, Your books are excellent reading Whether they are or not." And being fat and foolish He went and bought the lot. THE PUBLIC Oh, the years we waste and the tears we waste, And the work of our head and hand Belong to the Public that doesn't read verse (And, probably, never will learn to read verse) Which it does not understand ! A fool there was and his youth he spent (Even as you and I !) Concocting rhymes that were excellent (If the Public had only perceived what he meant) But the Public can't help its natural bent (No more than you and I !) Oh, the toil we lost and the spoil we lost And the beautiful things we planned Belong to the Public that doesn't buy verse (And has made up its mind it will never buy verse) Which it cannot understand ! 72 THE FIVE NOTIONS The fool was stripped of some foolish pence (Even as you and I !) Which he might have foreseen if he hadn't been dense, But fools, of course, have none too much sense, And, somehow, they suffer in consequence (Even as you and I !) Oh, it isn't the shame and it isn't the blame That stings like a white- hot brand It's coming to know that your verses won't sell (Seeing at last that they never can sell) And beginning to understand ! A fool there was and he wrote with care (Even as you and I !) And he carried his work to a publisher (Who gave him an estimate then and there), And he dreams, at times, there are profits to share (Even as you and I !) THE BOLD MILITIAMAN " Her Majesty is by proclamation about to issue an order for the embodiment of the Militia and the Militia Reserve forces, or so much as Her Majesty may think necessary for the permanent service." THERE ain't no kind of soldier That matters less than we, No sort of common Tommy With much less pedigree, No fighting man that's seen much less Of bloody victory. We join, of course, bein' stony An' hankerin' after beer, We stick because we're forced to, We turns up once a year And does our little bit of graft Like a blawsted Wolumpteer. 74 THE FIVE NOTIONS We're under height an' weedy, Splay-footed, cock-eyed, wrong About our little chestises : Our drill is trooly strong, An' when you find us shootin' straight You can put it in a song. The Queen she has her Awmy, Fine fellows for parade, Done up in tasty tunics An' sashes an' gold braid, An' loved by all the slaveys, An' cough-drops at their trade. The Queen she has her Awmy And her Milishy too, But the cheapest red and pipeclay For us chaps has to do, An' a quid a year's our income, Which we never fail to blue. The Queen she has her Awmy To cross the stormy main, THE BOLD MILITIAMAN 75 To fight the foe an' lay him low An' then come home again : So that where our bloomin' chance comes in Is not exactly plain. "They also serve," says Milting, "Who only stand an' wait" ; Wherefore we'll mind the barracks An' go sentry at the gate, An' wonder what's the good of it An' grumble to our mate. For there ain't no kind of soldier That matters less than we, No sort of common Tommy With much less pedigree, No fighting man that's seen much less Of bloody victory. THE ABSENT-MINDED MULE WHEN you're walking out your Gloucesters and your Irish Fusiliers, And you feel like slapping Kruger in the mouth, Don't forget to keep an optic on a little chap with ears, A gentleman in floor-boards, just come South ; He's an absent-minded beggar, and his style is pretty high Though, of course, we've got to take him as we find him He is here on active service, and he's been and done And left a lot o' little things behind him ! Old mule bold mule mule of the hairy tail Mule of spirit and swift hind-hoof and flabby scornful lip THE ABSENT-MINDED MULE 77 Each of him doing his country's work (how when he happens to fail ?) Never go nap on an army mule, 'cause he'll skip ! skip ! skip ! He's the thing for stony country, hard as nails, and tough as boot ; You can feed him cheap and work him very late; You can load him up with most things, from lemonade to loot, But small-arm ammunition ain't his weight : Oh, the boys that kicked him casual, they'll be sorry now he's gone, For an absent-minded beggar they will find him ; They're safe and sound with Joubert (and the fun just coming on !) Our poor Tommies that the mule has left behind him ! What mule ? pot mule son of a blawsted gun Son of a Lambeth publican born to give us the slip 78 THE FIVE NOTIONS Each of him doing his country's work (Lordy, how it gets done !) Never go nap on an army mule, 'cause he'll skip ! skip ! skip ! He'd been trained to smell blank cartridge and wink the other eye, He delighted in the music of the band, But he'd never seen no boulders, and he didn't want to die, And shot and shell were more than he could stand : He's an absent-minded beggar, though he heard his country's call, And his reg'ment didn't need to send to find him ; He chucked his job and bolted and the job before us all Is to get the men he's went and left behind him ! Rough job tough job joo for Buller & Co. Job for fifty thousand men (that's the bloomin' tip!). THE ABSENT-MINDED MULE 79 Each of 'em doing his country's work, each of 'em having a go ; Each of 'em 'ware of the army mule what'll skip ! skip ! skip ! We've retired, and retired, and " retired with the dawn/' And fallen back and back and back and back ; We've "hammered Paul" like Britons, and carefully withdrawn And scooted home along the Southern track ; Paul's an absent-minded beggar, and he may not see the joke, But he doesn't need a lawyer to remind him That, although his day is over and his oligarchy's broke, We've never yet got through him or behind him ! Fair war square war war of the fine old sort (Fifty thousand horse and foot out for a little trip); 80 THE FIVE N 7 OTIONS Each of 'em doing his country's work (and a trifle keen on the sport), Yet it's no good running a righteous war on skip ! skip ! skip ! PRIMROSE DAY "WHEN the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold, Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould." "'Tis the nineteenth of April/' he said, "as Old Moore discloses. And how in the name of goodness am I going to pin on these primroses ? " G. B. SH-W. patient and pallid, with petals Of the shade of the sand of the sea, 1 like you much better than nettles You arejlorvers to me ! A. C. SW-NB-RNE. 82 THE FIVE NOTIONS The British Lion sits and smiles, And shouts : " 'Fore Heaven, we cannot yield ! While English lanes for miles and miles Grow yellow for our Beaconsfield. ALFR-D A-ST-N. A primrose by the river's brim A yellow primrose was to Tim, And plaguey little more. T. M. H LY. Primroses That come from Kent in early trains, and take The British chest with beauty. O. S M-N. I, Hoobah, the Prince of my land, black-haired and flat-footed, Out of the mountains of Moobah beheld them, beheld them ; Yellow were they, quite yellow as clay at the bottom of Doobah. PRIMROSE DAY 88 But between you and me and Mr. George Moore and the gate-post, They have really nothing to do with the great Celtic movement : Wherefore, why should I write about them at all at all ? W. B. Y xa. Take up the White Man's burden, We've got both ships and men ; We really lick creation From here to Oregen. Fasten 'em to your lapel Before you go to lunch Old Benny's favourite flower, A penny for a bunch ! R. K. The idea is very pretty. But I preferred 'em in a salad. BENJAMIN. THE MAN IN THE STREET O THE Man in the Street is an excellent man, And painfully anxious to learn all he can : He likes his news frequent and newsy and neat, And he knows what is what, does the Man in the Street. O the Man in the Street, the Man in the Street, So wise in the head and so strong on his feet, He likes his news frequent and newsy and neat, And you can't keep things back from the Man in the Street. If your Aimy gets smashed when it goes forth to slay, You must cable the Man in the Street right away : THE MAN IN THE STREET 85 It's no good attempting the smallest deceit, He will have the facts, will the Man in the Street. O the Man in the Street, the Man in the Street, So wise in the head and so strong on his feet : It's no good attempting the smallest deceit, He won't be fobbed off, won't the Man in the Street. O the Man the in Street has a ferreting nose ; He knows just as much as the Ministry knows. And that is why Ministers say when they meet "We know just as much as the Man in the Street." All together O the Man in the Street, the Man in the Street; So sound in the head and so strong on his feet, He likes his news frequent and newsy and neat, And he's right on the nail is the Man in the Street. THE HEATHEN CHINEE JULY, 1900 WHICH I wish to remark And my language is plain, That the tiniest spark Of form don't remain In the heathen Chinee, his false bosom, Which fact I would rise to explain. They called him Ah Sin ; He had sunk in the slough Right up to his chin, Which was dreadful, you know We sent railways and moral instruction And battleships all in a row. THE HEATHEN CHINEE 87 We said, " Sinny, your civ- ilisation's effete, Look up, man, and give The reformers a treat, Let the world see that if you are yellow, You've got a white heart." Which was neat. Also, " Open your door Whenever we tap, We are dying to pour Cheap goods on your lap, And you might lend us all a few ports, Sin, To show you're a well-meaning chap." Then Ah Sin look'd quite gay, And proffered his hand " The game that you play I do well understand ; I love all you wise foleign people " And his smile it was childlike and bland. He set his door wide, And we started to trade. It will not be denied That large fortunes were made ; 88 THE FIVE NOTIONS For we sold him cheap cotton and rifles And much ammunition he buyed. And on July the first (Quite soft were the skies) Ah Sin yelled, " I thirst For the blood of the wise. Bring hither that dam Foleign Devil : Behold, I will tear out his eyes ! " And things have occurred That curdle the blood, And the nations are heard Crying, " Sin, please be good, We really don't want any war, Sin ! " But Sin smiles a smile made of wood. Which is why I remark, And my language is plain, That the tiniest spark Of form don't remain In the heathen Chinee, his false bosom Which the same I am free to maintain. THROUGH ' We shall muddle through" LOBD ROSEBERY. WE have muddled through : It is very good. We said we should ; We are late, 'tis true, But we've muddled through, We were "unprepared," We were " most unwise " : Yet the old flag flies Where the old flag flew : We have muddled through ! O Banner of ours That shines in the wars, O excellent bars Red, white, and blue You have muddled through ! SLAIN " Dulce et decorum, eat pro patria mori ' You who are still and white And cold like stone ; For whom the unfailing light Is spent and done ; For whom no more the breath Of dawn, nor evenfall, Nor Spring nor love nor death Matter at all ; Who were so strong and young, And brave and wise, And on the dark are flung With darkened eyes ; SLAIN 91 Who roystered and caroused But yesterday, And now are dumbly housed In stranger clay ; Who valiantly led, Who followed valiantly, Who knew no touch of dread Of that which was to be ; Children that were as nought Ere ye were tried, How have ye dared and fought, Triumphed and died ! Yea, it is very sweet And decorous The omnipotent Shade to meet And flatter thus. THE BLOOD YE are very strong, O sons of mine ; Strong of heart and thew and blow : Ye have fared forth through the arduous world Wherever a man might go ; And your strength is an ancient, slumberless strength, And greater than ye know. Out of the pick of the elder tribes, Out of the old dim battles they fought, Out of the sea and the landward fights, Blood and breed and mettle ye brought, Honour and vision and sanity, Whereby ye have lived and wrought. Many peoples are ye become, Sundered by hemisphere and flood ; THE BLOOD 93 Many peoples in governance, Yet one in indelible brotherhood ; Many peoples and one in law. Marty peoples and one in the blood. For your law is a law for the makers of laws, Builded of justice and mercy and right, Ordered and builded with searchings and cares, As ye clomb steadfastly out of the night Into the dawn and the day that is yours, Into the gracious, unquestioning light. Stay not, flinch not, hold not your hand What are these that cry out on ye ? Babblers, brawlers, palterers, blind, Who would barter their heritage, crook the knee, For a little present quiet, and leave Whips and shame for the time to be. Let them rail ; let them snarl, and point Fingers of scornfulness, and lure Fools to rebellion, rapine, war ; Still shall ye labour, still endure, Still shall ye bleed for Freedom's sake, Still is your guerdon ample, sure. 94 THE FIVE NOTIONS Through tears and blood ye have won your power ; Through tears and blood, when the need may rise, Ye shall keep it whole and inviolate ; For over the hate, and the rage, and the lies, Peace, Honour, Liberty are set, And Truth, with fearless, shining eyes. Ye are very strong, O sons of mine ! Strong of heart, and thew and blow ; Ye have fared forth through the arduous world Wherever a man might go ; And your strength is an ancient, slumberless strength, And greater than ye know. Printed by BAI.LANTYNE, HANSON &> Co London &> Edinburgh UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 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