When she's only tryin' all she can to earn a honest brown.
Still, though I'm mad to 'ear 'em play, and sometimes join the dance,
I often wish one music gave the other kind a chance.
The orgin might have two days, and the cornet take a third,
While the pipe-man tried o' Thursdays 'ow to imitate a bird.
But they allus comes together, singin' playin' as they meet
With their pipes and 'orns and orgins in the middle of our street.

But there, I can't stand chatterin', pore mother's mortal bad,
And she's got to work the whole day long to keep things straight for dad.
Complain? Not she. She scrubs and rubs with all 'er might and main,
And the lot's no sooner finished but she's got to start again.
There's a patch for JOHNNY's jacket, a darn for BILLY's socks,
And an hour or so o' needlework a mendin' POLLY's frocks;
With floors to wash, and plates to clean, she'd soon be skin and bone
('Er cough's that aggravatin') if she did it all alone.
There'll be music while we're workin' to keep us on the go--
I like my tunes as fast as fast, pore mother likes 'em slow--
Ah! we don't get much to laugh at, nor yet too much to eat,
And the music stops us thinkin' when they play it in the street.

* * * * *

"MARIE, COME UP!"--When Miss MARIE LLOYD, who, unprofessionally, when
at home, is known as Mrs. PERCY COURTENAY, which her Christian name is
MATILDA, recently appeared at Bow-Street Police Court, having summoned
her husband for an assault, the Magistrate, Mr. LUSHINGTON, ought
to have called on the Complainant to sing "_Whacky, Whacky, Whack!_"
which would have come in most appropriately. Let us hope that the
pair will make it up, and, as the story-books say, "live happily ever