Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee

Subject: ADD: Somebody Would Shout Out Shop (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 03 Sep 22 - 10:56 AM

R P Weston and Bert Lee met in 1915 at the London Offices of Frances Day and Hunter and agreed to work together R P Weston was a cockney and lived in Twickenham Bert Lee was from Raventhorpe near Dewsbury Yorkshire He moved into the house in Twickenham and they worked together
for over twenty years

This one was written in 1915 for Stanley Kirkby and Harry Hudson

SOMEBODY WOULD SHOUT OUT SHOP
AKA        
Lyrics        Weston and Lee        Music        Weston and Lee        Roud        21924
Music Hall Performers         Stanley Kirkby & Harry Hudson 1915
Folk performances        Source singers
Albert “Wicketts” Richardson, 1964, Suffolk, England


Ebenezer Johnson kept a grocery store
He'd a little lady that he used to adore
She would call around in the afternoon
In his small back parlour they would sit and spoon
He would entertain her in a lover-like way
But here is the mystery
Though he hadn't taken any money all day
The minute she sat on his knee.

Somebody would shout out shop
Somebody would shout out shop
Just as he was kissing her and making good
Somebody would come in for a bundle of wood
Just as he was giving Mabel a squeeze
Somebody would come in for a quarter of cheese
Oh gee, it makes him feel so funny
He'd clean forget to take the money
Back he'd go again and try to cuddle his honey
And somebody would shout out shop, shop, shop
Somebody would shout out shop.

In the middle of a moment really sublime,
In would come a customer to ask him the time
Back he'd go once more and say, "Darn the shop!"
Once again the question he'd try to pop
He would softly whisper in her dear little ear
"Oh marry me, Mabel, do!"
Then she'd hear a customer and answer, "No fear!"
If I went honeymooning with you..

Somebody would shout out shop
Somebody would shout out shop
Just as he was kissing her and making good
Somebody would come in for a bundle of wood
Just as he was giving Mabel a squeeze
Somebody would come in for a quarter of cheese
Oh gee, it makes him feel so funny
He'd clean forget to take the money
Back he'd go again and try to cuddle his honey
And somebody would shout out shop, shop, shop
Somebody would shout out shop.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: GUEST,Hootenanny
Date: 03 Sep 22 - 01:46 PM

Cockney from Twickenham ???

Any idea where he was born? I knew some Westons from Bethnal Green and Bow.

Subject: ADD: Swim Sam, Swim (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 03 Sep 22 - 04:27 PM

SWIM SAM, SWIM
(R P Weston & Bert Lee)

Once I was a sailor, a sailor big and broad.
I shipped aboard a whaler, and tumbled overboard.
I shouted: 'Someone save me! 'Someone said: 'Go hang!
The sharks are sniffing round you.' Then my shipmates sang:

CHORUS:
'Swim Sam swim!
Show them you're some swimmer!
Swim just like a swan Sam!
You know how the swan swam.
Six sharp sharks are going to snap your limbs.
So swipe them swiftly when they swoop
And swim Sam swim!'

So I swam with vigour; the race had just begun.
Sharks all eyed my figure; 'All jelly,' shouted one.
Some old portly porpoise popped up in the foam;
Shouted: 'If you want to catch your last train home,

CHORUS:
Swim Sam swim!
Show them you're some swimmer!
Swim just like a swan Sam!
You know how the swan swam.
Six sharp sharks are going to snap your limbs.
So swipe them swiftly when they swoop
And swim Sam swim!'

Sharks all heard the chorus and said while in the brine,
Ragtime did it for us, but by gum this is fine!'
They fluttered with their esses until they got lockjawed,
So then I left them singing as I climbed on board:
CHORUS:
Swim Sam swim!
Show them you're some swimmer!
Swim just like a swan Sam!
You know how the swan swam.
Six sharp sharks are going to snap your limbs.
So swipe them swiftly when they swoop
And swim Sam swim!

CHORUS:
Swim Sam swim Sam swim!
Show them you're some swimmer!
Swim like a snow-white swan Sam!
You know how the swan swam.
Six sharp shivering sharks are going to snap your limbs.
So a well-swum swim is a swim well swum.
 

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: GUEST,henryp
Date: 03 Sep 22 - 05:37 PM

Hoot - Weston's real name was Robert Harris (1878 – 6 November 1936), and he was born in Kingsbury Road, Islington, very close to Dalston Junction. His father ran a grocery shop and the family lived over it. Harris became a railway clerk (as listed in the 1911 Census), but took up performing and song writing. At this time, he was living at 46 Hemmingford Road in Islington with his wife Maud. After Robert Weston's death, the house was occupied by Weston's two daughters who lived there into old age, with Weston and Lee's papers sitting untouched and unlooked-at. PeoplePill

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: GUEST,Hootenanny
Date: 04 Sep 22 - 05:30 AM

Henry P

Thanks very much for that. I know Hemingford (only one M) Road very well having played music in the Hemingford Arms for 29 years) also have distant family connections who lived at 87.

So Twickenham appears to be an error and I guess describing him as a Cockney would be questionable as one would be most unlikely to have been able to hear the sound of Bow Bells from Islington/Dalston.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 04 Sep 22 - 07:01 AM

Robert Harris was R P Weston's birth name he was born in Islington

Subject: ADD: My Meatless Days (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 05 Sep 22 - 05:33 AM

The second verse would be racist today but it does reflect the times they lived in

MY MEATLESS DAYS
Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1917
Performed by Ernie Mayne (1871-1937)


Just a day each week it's true. I help to win the war I do
I don't sell flags around the street, I go without my bits of meat
And when I pass the butcher's shop and hear 'em shout, 'bye-bye'
I pull my belt up four more holes and sadly I reply,

It's my meatless day, my meatless day, I'm not going to eat
Any sort of meat, meat, meat, meat, meat
I'm thin and pale, all I've put away
Is four quarts of mussels, five loaves of bread,
Nine pairs of kippers and a big cod's head
Five tins of salmon and I feel half dead
'Cos it's my meatless day.

Last night I wandered through the park I met a lady after dark
And feeling faint for want of food I fell into her arms (how rude)
Then she murmured, 'Kiss me George.' Her face I chanced to see
Well the girl was black, with negro lips so I shouted, 'Not for me'

Oh It's my meatless day, my meatless day, I'm not going to eat
Any sort of meat, meat, meat, meat, meat
I'm thin and pale, all I've put away
Is two rolly polly's, (never left a crumb),
Three currant puddings and a little bit of plum
Five apple dumplings are a-rolling round my tum
'Cos it's my meatless day.

As a farmer's boy I worked near York. The day the pig died we had pork
Next day the old cow died and we had beef for breakfast, dinner and tea
We had mutton when the sheep pegged out, and we all got over fed
Next day the farmer's missus died, so I went up and said

Here, it's my meatless day, my meatless day, I'm not going to eat
Any sort of meat, meat, meat, meat, meat
I'm thin and pale, all I've put away
Is five pound of taters that I had to thieve
A vegetable marrow as long as me sleeve
A jar of pickled onions you can tell when I breathe
It's my meatless day.
 

Subject: ADD: Paddy Mc Ginty's Goat (Weston & Lee & 2 Bobs)
From: Monologue John
Date: 05 Sep 22 - 05:49 AM

PADDY McGINTY'S GOAT
 Written and composed by The Two Bobs with R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1917
Performed by The Two Bobs

Mister Patrick McGinty, an Irishman of note
Came into a fortune, so bought himself a goat
Said he, 'Sure, of goat's milk I mean to have my fill
But when he got his nanny home he found it was a bill.

Refrain: And now all the ladies who live in Killaloo
Are all wearing bustles like their mothers used to do
They each wear a bolster beneath the petticoat
And leave the rest to providence and Paddy Mc Ginty's goat.

Missis Burke to her daughter said, 'Listen Mary Jane
Now who was the man you were cuddling in the lane
He'd long wiry whiskers all hanging from his chin.'
'Twas only Pat McGinty's goat,' she answered with a grin.

Refrain: Then she went away from the village in disgrace
She came back with powder and paint upon her face
She'd rings on her fingers and she wore a sable coat
You bet your life they never came from Paddy McGinty's goat.

Little Nora McCarthy the knot was going to tie
She washed all her trouseau and hung it out to dry
Then up came the goat and saw the bits of white
He chewed up all her falderals, and on her wedding night,

Refrain: 'Oh turn out the gas quick,' she shouted out to Pat
'For though I'm your bride, sure I'm not worth looking at
I've got two of everything I told you when I wrote
But now I've one of nothing all through Padyy McGinty's goat.

Mick Riley he went to the races t'other day
He won twenty dollars and shouted 'Hip- Hooray.'
He held up the note shouting 'Look at what I've got.'
The goat came up and grabbed at it and swallowed all the lot

Refrain: 'He's eaten my banknote,' said Micky with the hump
They ran for the doctor, he brought a stomach pump
He pumped and he pumped for that twenty dollar note
But all he got was ninepence out of Paddy McGinty's goat.

Sure, but ould Paddy's goat had a wondrous appetite
And one day for breakfast he had some dynamite
A big box of matches then he swallowed all serene
Then out he went and swallowed up a quart of paraffin.

Refrain: He sat by the fireside and didn't care a hang
He swallowed a spark, and then exploded with a bang
And when you go to heaven you can bet a dollar note
The angel who has the whiskers on is Paddy McGinty's goat.


div

Subject: ADD: The Future Variety Show (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 05 Sep 22 - 06:17 AM

THE FUTURE VARIETY SHOW
 Words and music by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1917
Performed by Ernest Hastings


They're going to reform the Variety Show
They say the the songs are a little so-so
No artiste in future must even allude
To girls climbing buses or anything rude.

Oh, Oh, the future Variety Show
Will be so nice and refined
They'll have to pay people to go
And dear Brother Robey with nose painted white
Will warble that ditty 'My drink's water bright'
Putting plenty of spirit in every night
At the future Variety Show.

Oh, Oh, the future Variety Show
You'll see the bishops in the stalls
Their faces with pleasure will glow
And sweet Sister Lloyd, our Marie forsooth
Won't ogle the boys and show her gold tooth
And her songs will be written by General Booth
At the future Variety Show.

The future review girl will wear a long gown
With weights at the bottom to keep it well down
And no West End manager ever will dare
To bring on a table with legs that are bare

Refrain: Oh, Oh, the future Variety Show
That boy won't shout 'Good-bye Papa'
When the motor refuses to go
He'll be more polite to his Pa, Mister Tate
And his bandy-legged boy I'm requested to state
Won't be allowed 'cos they say he's not straight
At the future Variety Show

Oh, Oh, the future Variety Show
They're going to tone up everything
And get decent people to go
They'll only have songs of a temperance kind
So Chirgwin will have to bear this in mind
And that Blind Boy of his will have to be blind
At the future Variety Show

Now all married couples who come to the show
Must prove they are married, or else they can't go
And all single pairs they'll divide every night
They'll be boys on the left and girls on the right.

Oh, Oh, the future Variety Show
Miss Clarice Mayne won't call her husband
'That,' for it's awfully low.
She won't call him 'that.' No, they'll soon stop her games
For there on the programme you'll see both their names
'Twill be Miss Clarice Mayne and her dear husband James
At the future Variety Show.

Oh, Oh, the future Variety Show
They'll have a choir and organist
To help with the singing, you know
And while they all sing to you hymn fifty eight
The whole of the congregation will stand there in state
While dear Brother Lauder goes round with the plate
At the future Variety Show.

Subject: ADD: Sergeant Solomon Isaacstein (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 05 Sep 22 - 12:46 PM

This post is Anti Semitic however it is also of historical interest

SERGEANT SOLOMON ISAACSTEIN
(I'm The Only Yiddisher Scotsman In The Irish Fusiliers)

Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1916
Performed by Gus Harris


Little Solomon Isaacstein lived down in Petticoat Lane
Until the war, this terrible war
Then off he went and enlisted
In the Black watch. Said he
'I'd rather have the gold watch
For that's the watch for me'
They gave him a khaki suit he loathes
He ran into the street to sell his left off clothes.

Chorus: Sergeant Solomon Isaacstein
He's the friend of the fighting line
Oi, oi, oi, Give three hearty cheers
For the only Jewish Scotsman in the Irish Fusiliers.

Sergeant Solomon built a little pawnshop in the trench
With money lent at ninety percent
He hadn't any three brass balls
To hang out for a sign
So he found three bombs and gilded them
And my word they looked fine
But one of them fell wallop from the chain
And nearly sent him back to Petticoat Lane.

Chorus:Sergeant Solomon Isaacstein
He's the friend of the fighting line
Oi, oi, oi, Give three hearty cheers
For the only Jewish Scotsman in the Irish Fusiliers.


Sergeant Solomon heard them give the order for to charge
He said, 'How much? Please tell me how much?'
A young lieutenant behind him kicked him in his khaki pants
Said he, 'Don't think of money. You've to make the big advance'
Advance upon the Germans he said, 'What!
I wouldn't advance yer ninepence on the lot.'

Chorus:Sergeant Solomon Isaacstein
He's the friend of the fighting line
Oi, oi, oi, Give three hearty cheers
For the only Jewish Scotsman in the Irish Fusiliers.

Subject: ADD: The Happiest Christmas of All (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 06 Sep 22 - 12:21 PM

Thank you to The British Music Hall Society for these words obtained from The Bodleian Library Oxford

THE HAPPIEST CHRISTMAS OF ALL
(R P Weston and Bert Lee)

        Christmas Wasn't Christmas with the Boys Away
        Many Wives and Mothers Said Last Christmas day
        But they kept on smiling tho their hearts were yearning
        They sang the good old Christmas songs
        They kept the yule log burning
        For while the bells rang out their merry chime
        They seemed to sing this promise all the time

        Chorus
        The happiest Christmas of all will be
        When the boys are home again
        We will know the worth of 'Peace on Earth'
        And We'll sing the old refrain
        'Should auld acquaintance be forgot'
        And the mistletoe will hang in the hall
        And the girls between the kisses and smiles will murmur
        'This is the happiest Christmas of all'

        Round the Christmas tables there'll be smiles of joy
        Ma will gaze so proudly on her soldier boy
        Dad will serve the pudden out and say with quiet laughter
        'This little flag was on the top before the war and after'
        But ma will shed a tear when Uncle Joe Says grace
        'Praise God from whom all blessings flow'
        
        Chorus
        The happiest Christmas of all will be
        When the boys are home again
        We will know the worth of 'Peace on Earth'
        And We'll sing the old refrain
        'Should auld acquaintance be forgot'
        And the mistletoe will hang in the hall
        And the girls between the kisses and smiles will murmur
        'This is the happiest Christmas of all'

Subject: ADD: Christmas Day in the Workhouse (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 07 Sep 22 - 07:55 AM

CHRISTMAS DAY IN THE WORKHOUSE
(Weston and Lee)


2LO - Britain's 2nd radio station which began broadcasting in 1922.


It was Christmas Day in the workhouse,
And dangerous Dan McGrew
Was fighting to rescue the pudding
From a lady that’s known as Lou.

Then up spake one old pauper,
And speaking from *2LO,
He said, “List to the tale of Gungha Din,
The whitest man I know.”

It was the schooner Hesperus.
It was sinking with all hands on shore;
So we wired, “Send the lifeboat from Wigan,
We’ve never had that here before.”

But the brave lifeboat men, sir, at Wigan,
Replied on a postcard,
“No fear!” It’s too far to come to the Goodwins.
Wrap the wreck up and send it on here.”

’Twas a terrible railway disaster (whistle)
When the Scottish Express came with a roar.
It gave a shrill blast on its whistle—
It was Scottish so it wouldn’t give more.

It was then that the accident happened.
They found ’mid the rattle and din
A Scotsman had mislaid his corkscrew
And the cork had been pushed too far in.

We were all marching on to Khartoum, sir,
And we knew by the cannon’s loud booms,
The Sepoys were drawing our gunfire
And Tom Webster was drawing Khartoums.

Then Nelson fell back and he whispered,
“Put my statue in Trafalgar Square,
But tell them to make it look like me;
I don’t want an Epstein affair.

But, see! There’s a man on the glacier;
His nose is turned into an icicle.
Don’t you know him? It’s Walls the ice-cream man,
Riding round with ice-cream on his tricycle.

Subject: ADD: The Gypsy Warned Me (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 07 Sep 22 - 11:01 AM

THE GYPSY WARNED ME
Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1920
Performed by Violet Loraine (1887-1956)

I went to see a gipsy once to learn my future fate
Said she, 'Be very careful when you want to choose a mate.'
So when a young man winked at me, outside the garden gate
I went to see the gipsy once again
I told her how my heart would flutter 'neath his soulful gaze
And when I said, 'This young man has such very taking ways'

Chorus: The gipsy warned me, the gipsy warned me
'Oh' she said to me, 'my child
He's a bad lad, a very bad lad'
But I only blushed and smiled
He took me in the country once, it really was sublime,
A dragonfly flew down my back, and what a pantomime
For he tried to find out where the flies go in the wintertime
'Cause I didn't take the gypsy's warning.

An actor stayed at Mother's once, so debonair and smart
In 'The girl who lost her character' he played the villain's part
He told me that he loved me and to him I lost my heart
So I went to see the gipsy once again
I told her of the part he played and what he used to do
She scanned the lines upon my hand, and looking very blue

Chorus: The gipsy warned me, the gipsy warned me
'Oh' she said to me 'my child
He's a bad lad, a very bad lad'
But I only blushed and smiled
Though in 'The girl who lost her character' he made a hit
I thought he'd buy a wedding ring for me, I must admit
But all the bounder gave me was two tickets for the pit
'Cause I didn't take the gypsy's warning.

Of marrying a titled gent I'd always had a hope
One night I met Count Zog-it-off, he handed me the 'Dope'
He put the fluence on me then he asked me to elope
So I went to see the gipsy once again
I told her of Count Zog-it-off and how he'd been so kind
Said she, 'You get some Zog, my dear, and Zog it off your mind'

Chorus: The gipsy warned me, the gipsy warned me
'Oh' she said to me 'my child
He's a bad lad, a very bad lad'
But I only blushed and smiled
At two o' clock next morning there I met Count Zog-it-off
Said he 'The carriage waits my dear' I heard a lady cough
'Twas his wife and fourteen children all come round to see him off
'Cause I didn't take the gypsy's warning.

I love the Airforce uniform; I like that shade of blue
And young Lieutenant Reggie, oh, the stunts he used to do
He'd fly across our house and drop love-letters down the flue
So I went to see the gipsy once again
Said she, 'Be careful dearie, flying men are very slim
He'll surely drop in on you when you're not expecting him'

Chorus: The gipsy warned me, the gipsy warned me
'Oh' she said to me 'my child
He's a bad lad, a very bad lad'
But I only blushed and smiled
And that night in his aeroplane young Reginald Magrath
Flew right across the garden wall and up the garden path
Crashed through the bathroom window pane and I was in the bath
'Cause I didn't take the gypsy's warning.

The gipsy with her warnings grew so very, very strict
I never got a young man, and I thought it time I kicked
And getting rather anxious as to why I hadn't clicked
I went to see the gipsy once again
Said she 'A brave young man will snatch you from your bed
But if you don't hang on to him, that man you'll never wed'

Chorus: The gipsy warned me, the gipsy warned me
'Oh' she said to me 'my child
He's a bad lad, a very bad lad'
But I only blushed and smiled
That night the house caught fire, and in his helmet shining bright
A firemen snatched me from my bed, and got me down alright
Then he jumped upon his engine, and he shouted out 'Good night'
'Cause I didn't take the gypsy's warning.

Subject: ADD: The World's All Right (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 07 Sep 22 - 11:07 AM

THE WORLD'S ALL RIGHT
Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1921
Performed by Ella Shields (1879-1952)

I met a tramp all alone in his camp,
Laughing gaily and singing a song.
This hoho man drank his tea from a can,
But I hailed him as I passed along.
I said, 'You're down and out, but you seem happy;
What is your secret, tell me friend?'
'Secret,' said he, 'Why, gee, it's just philosophy,
Here's the beginning and the end; 'Oh, the:

Chorus: World's all right, it's the people living in it
Make it seem all wrong, seem all wrong.
If there's strife or any trouble in it,
You can bet your life it's the people who begin it.
So I tramp my way and I'm happy every minute,
And I sing my little song,
Oh, the world's all right, It's the people living in it,
Make it seem all wrong.
'Far from the crowd,' he said, 'I sing aloud,
And the song seems to flow from my heart.
Maybe the birds haven't quite got the words,
But they're in with the tune from the start.
I never get the blues, 'cept when I'm dreaming,
Dreaming I feel a woman's kiss.
In dreams back home I stray but when I wake I say,
'Don't want the old life, give me this!' 'Oh, the:

Chorus: World's all right, it's the people living in it
Make it seem all wrong, seem all wrong.
If there's strife or any trouble in it,
You can bet your life it's the people who begin it.
So I tramp my way and I'm happy every minute,
And I sing my little song,
Oh, the world's all right, It's the people living in it,
Make it seem all wrong.

Subject: ADD: In Our Little Garden Sub-Bub (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 07 Sep 22 - 02:16 PM

IN OUR LITTLE GARDEN SUB-BUB
Written and composed by Bob Weston and Bert Lee - 1922
Performed by Ernie Mayne (1871-1937)

I feel like a fighting man, I'm fit and fat and fine
Since I've lived in a little garden sub-bub up the line
Though to call it a suburb is the fashionable way
But I call it a sub-bub 'cos it's easier to say
If town life's too fast for you and country life too slow
Don't make a bungle of your life but build a bungalow

Chorus: In our little garden sub-bub
Far away from the noise and the hub-bub
When you've tired of the pub-bub
Tired of the club-bub
Take a little house in the garden sub-bub
There you can grow stewed rub-bub
And you can bath in an old rain tub-bub
So leave all the hub-bub, and the pub-bub and the club-bub
And grow your own grub-bub in the sub-bub.

We draw all our water from a well. Well, I say well
Well, we call it a well, though it doesn't work so well
And to judge by the smell our tabby cat that wasn't well
Said all's well that ends well and got drowned down in the well
But who wants a well, ay? Who the dickens wants a well?
While I've a barrel full of bass the well can go to...

Chorus: Well in our little garden sub-bub-bub-bub-bub
Far away from the noise and the hub-bub-bub-bub-bub
When you've tired of the pub-bub
And you're tired of the club-bub-bub-bub
Take a little house in the garden sub-bub-bub-bub-bub
There you can grow stewed rub-bub-bub-bub-bub
And you can bath in an old rain tub-bub-bub-bub
So leave all the hub-bub, and the pub-bub and the club-bub
And grow your own grub-bub in the sub-bub.
 

Subject: ADD:Shall I Have it Bobbed or Shingled(Weston/Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 07 Sep 22 - 04:43 PM

SHALL I HAVE IT BOBBED OR SHINGLED
Written and composed by Bert Lee & Robert Patrick Weston - 1924
Performed by Ernest Le Messurier
 
Sweet Suzy Simpson had such lovely hair; it reached down to her waist.
Till friends sweetly told her that around Mayfair having hair was bad taste.
"Bobbed or shingled it must be, dear," said they, "if you wish to wed."
Till in black despair in the fatal chair in the hairdresser's shop she said:

Chorus: "Shall I have it bobbed or shingled? Shall I have it shingled or bobbed?
Sister Cissy says, 'Oh, have it shorn short, Sue,
Shingled, shorn and shaven like the swell set do.'
Shall I have it shingled shorter?" said Suzy as she sighed and sobbed.
"Sister Cissy said she'd sooner see it short and shingled,
But both my brothers Bert and Bobby say it's better bobbed."

Inside Woolworth's store this afternoon, a clerk sat sad and blue.
Her manager happened by that way and said "What's wrong with you?
If you find that your work's too hard, I will help you with your task."
Then the maiden sighed and softly cried, "Here's a question I'd like to ask.

Chorus:"Shall I have it bobbed or shingled? Shall I have it shingled or bobbed?
Sister Cissy says, 'Oh, have it shorn short, Sue,
Shingled, shorn and shaven like the swell set do.'
Shall I have it shingled shorter?" said Suzy as she sighed and sobbed.
"Sister Cissy said she'd sooner see it short and shingled,
But both my brothers Bert and Bobby say it's better bobbed."

Inside a butcher shop in Golders Green, just after closing time,
A cat got her tail in the sausage machine and was cut off in her prime.
She ran out with her tail ripped off and swanked it to the cats with pride,
And the tabs and toms put their to's and froms in the sausage machine and cried.

Chorus:"Shall I have it bobbed or shingled? Shall I have it shingled or bobbed?
Sister Cissy says, 'Oh, have it shorn short, Sue,
Shingled, shorn and shaven like the swell set do.'
Shall I have it shingled shorter?" said Suzy as she sighed and sobbed.
"Sister Cissy said she'd sooner see it short and shingled,
But both my brothers Bert and Bobby say it's better bobbed."

Lady Godiva on a snow-white mare once rode through Coventry,
And she was wearing all her lovely hair. Oh, it reached down to her knee.
Peeping Tom at his windowpane exclaimed when he saw the sight:
"Oh, your hair's all wrong, 'cause it's much too long," and Godiva replied, "You're right...

Chorus:"Shall I have it bobbed or shingled? Shall I have it shingled or bobbed?
Sister Cissy says, 'Oh, have it shorn short, Sue,
Shingled, shorn and shaven like the swell set do.'
Shall I have it shingled shorter?" said Suzy as she sighed and sobbed.
"Sister Cissy said she'd sooner see it short and shingled,
But both my brothers Bert and Bobby say it's better bobbed."
 

Subject: ADD: Brahn Boots (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 13 Sep 22 - 04:46 AM

BRAHN BOOTS
(R. P. Weston and Bert Lee)

Our Aunt Hanna's passed away,
We 'ad her funeral today,
And it was a posh affair,
Had to have two p'licemen there!

The 'earse was luv'ly, all plate glass,
And wot a corfin!... oak and brass!
We'd fah-sands weepin', flahers galore,
But Jim, our cousin... what d'yer fink 'e wore?

Why, brahn boots!
I ask yer... brahn boots!
Fancy coming to a funeral
In brahn boots!

I will admit 'e 'ad a nice black tie,
Black fingernails and a nice black eye;
But yer can't see people orf when they die,
In brahn boots!

And Aunt 'ad been so very good to 'im,
Done all that any muvver could for 'im,
And Jim, her son, to show his clars...
Rolls up to make it all a farce,

In brahn boots...
I ask yer... brahn boots!
While all the rest,
Wore decent black and mourning suits.

I'll own he didn't seem so gay,
In fact he cried most part the way,
But straight, he reg'lar spoilt our day,
Wiv 'is brahn boots.

In the graveyard we left Jim,
None of us said much to him,
Yus, we all gave 'im the bird,
Then by accident we 'eard...

'E'd given 'is black boots to Jim Small,
A bloke wot 'ad no boots at all,
So p'raps Aunt Hanna doesn't mind,
She did like people who was good and kind.

But brahn boots!
I ask yer... brahn boots!
Fancy coming to a funeral,
In brahn boots!

And we could 'ear the neighbours all remark
'What, 'im chief mourner? Wot a blooming lark!
'Why 'e looks more like a Bookmaker's clerk...
In brahn boots!'

That's why we 'ad to be so rude to 'im,
That's why we never said 'Ow do!' to 'im,
We didn't know... he didn't say,
He'd give 'is other boots away.

But brahn boots!
I ask yer... brahn boots!
While all the rest,
Wore decent black and mourning suits!

But some day up at Heavens gate,
Poor Jim, all nerves, will stand and wait,
'til an angel whispers... 'Come in, Mate,
'Where's yer brahn boots?'

Subject: ADD: It's My Bath Night Tonight (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 13 Sep 22 - 08:04 AM

IT'S MY BATH NIGHT, TONIGHT
 Written and composed by Bert Lee & R.P. Weston - 1922
Performed by Jack Pleasants (1874-1924) 

Although I am a type of English beauty I confess
The good looks I possess are due to cleanliness
A lady said tonight she'd take me to a picture show
And buy a box of chocolates too but I refused to go
because...

CHORUS:
'It's my bath night tonight
My bath night, my bath night
Tonight's the night my Mamma with joy
Makes her little popsy-wopsy a nice clean boy
She lights the fire and gets the pot a-boiling
And she scrubs me nice and white
I wish you all could come and see me splashing in the sink
It's my bath night tonight'

One day when I was seeing life and dashing down the Strand
I heard a mission band, the music it was grand
A sweet salvation Lass said, 'Let me save you from the wreck
Your past is very black young man' I said, 'So is my neck... but

CHORUS:
It's my bath night tonight
My bath night, my bath night
Tonight's the night my Mamma with joy
Makes her little popsy-wopsy a nice clean boy
The captain shouted, 'Come with us to glory.'
I said, 'Thanks for your invite
But dear old Mother's going to wash me whiter than the snow
'Cos it's my bath night tonight.'

I tried to be an actor once in Shakespear's tragedy
Othello, that was me. I'd blacked my face you see
But one night in the killing scene, when I made my salaam
The audience yelled, 'Othello's white.' I said, 'Of course I am
because...

CHORUS:
It's my bath night tonight
My bath night, my bath night
Tonight's the night my Mamma with joy
Makes her little popsy-wopsy a nice clean boy
They threw bouquets at pretty Desdemona
They threw roses red and white
I don't know what they threw at me but I said, 'Thank the Lord,
That it's my bath night tonight'
 

Subject: ADD: I Went A-Jazzing (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 13 Sep 22 - 11:39 AM

I WENT A JAZZING
 Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee
Performed by Jack Pleasants (1874-1924)

I met my Alice, my little Alice,
At the big 'Jazz tea' at the Piccadilly Palace
And I knew I'd met my kindred soul
When she said, 'Hon, come and do the Jelly Roll'
We started Jazzing, we started Jazzing
And when we were out of breath
She murmured, 'Kiddo, say I'm the widow
Of the man who jazzed himself to death.
So Jazz with me through life.'
And on the day that I made her my wife
All down the isle, just like a crocodile
I went a-jazzing, I went a-jazzing
All round the church with a dip and a lurch
I went a-jazzing, I went a-jazzing
The parson he gave a glance
He said, 'He's got St Vitus' Dance'
Then the old fat aunt of Alice's
Said, 'I think he's only got paralysis'
Soon all the choir threw their books on the fire
And started jazzing, they started jazzing
The old organist all the bridesmaids he kissed
And started jazzing, he started jazzing
The parson shouted, 'Do keep still.
Now Alice will you marry Bill?'
She blushed and answered, 'Yes I will
If he keeps jazzing all the time.'

I'm getting thinner, I'm getting thinner
For I've jazzed twelve hours and haven't stopped for dinner
For when we have dinner all she has
Is a slice bread and dripping and a jazz
This jazzing' a awful, Why is it lawful?
Oh, I've jazzed until I'm nearly dead
The morn at seven I dreamed of heaven
Then the missis pushed me out of bed
She said, 'Wake up you dunce,
You've got to jazz to the doctor at once'
All down the street, with no boots on my feet
I went a-jazzing, I went a-jazzing
No coat and hat, like a drowned water rat
I went a-jazzing, I went a-jazzing
I rang the doctor's bell
And I exclaimed the wife's not well
Then he came outside to see me shake
As in my little shirt I did the Shimmy Shake
Soon up the stairs, while I stood saying prayers
He went a-jazzing, he went a-jazzing
Feeling so glad 'cause I'd soon be a dad
I started jazzing, I started jazzing
The doctor came down to the door
And shouted out to me, Oh Lor
I don't know if there's three or four
'Cause they keep jazzing all the time.

Subject: ADD:I'm Learning a Song for Christmas-Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 13 Sep 22 - 01:05 PM

I'M LEARNING A SONG FOR CHRISTMAS
 Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee
Performed by Jack Pleasants (1874-1924)

I did feel a silly ass last Christmas night
'Cos I couldn't sing and I couldn't recite
The girls called me slacker and other rude names
And wouldn't kiss me when they played parlour games
But I'll show 'em something next Christmas you see
I've turned up me job, and between you and me,
Chorus: I'm learning a song for Christmas
To sing upon Christmas night
Oh, Oh, how does it go?
This is the only part I know
Ha, ha, ha, he, he, he, I hope I shall get it all right
Oh I shall look a mug with me little brown jug
When I sing it on Christmas night.
Patter: Yes and I think it'll be a good song for Christmas, 'Little Brown Jug'. It's better that 'A Little Bit Of Heaven'... there's nothing in that... but there is something in 'The Little Brown Jug'... at least there is if me father hasn't drunk it.
Course, I hope they call upon me at a proper time on Christmas night. I mean... if they call on me too early I shan't be warmed up and if they call on me too late, I shall be full-up!
Oh! I'm going to come out in me best suit... mind you, before I come out in me best suit, me best suit'll have to come out.
Yes, and I'm practicing hard everyday now and I've started taking singing lessons. I went round to the teacher's house last night and though I say it m'self, I was in fine form. I ran up the scales... I got up to 'F'... then I got up to 'G'... and just as I was getting up to 'A'... something white ran past the door. He said, 'It's alright, it's only the wife who's just been running her bath.' And would you believe it, I actually got up to 'C'!
Chorus: I'm learning a song for Christmas
To sing upon Christmas night
Oh, Oh, how does it go?
This is the only part I know
Ha, ha, ha, he, he, he, I hope I shall get it all right
Oh I shall look a mug with me little brown jug
When I sing it on Christmas night.

Subject: ADD: Could Lloyd George Do It? (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 13 Sep 22 - 01:40 PM

COULD LLOYD GEORGE DO IT?
Written and composed by R.P. Weston & B. Lee - 1925
Performed by Stanley Lupino (1894-1942)
(Submitted by Barrie Mathers - Jan. 2013)


There are lots of clever men but the ordinary hen
Can take them down a peg.
Whilst they're laying down the law, the old chicken in the straw
Sits her down and she lays an egg, that's all.
She lays UP new-laid egg.
But could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!
Could Ramsay Mac and the other clever men
Do the same as the poor old hen?
The hen lays an egg; nobody has ever
Said that it was wonderful or marvelous or clever,
But could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!

Now the ordinary cat takes it's meals upon the mat
Without the aid of knives,
And its songs upon the tiles can be heard for thirty miles,
And it also has nine lives, that's all,
With perhaps two thousand wives.
But could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!
Could Peckham Rye or even Shepherd's Bush
Do the same as the sweet little puss?
The cat leads a life that is nothing else but clover.
With his little tongue he can wash himself all over,
And could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!

See the flighty little fly dancing round the apple pie,
Or your bacon nice and brown,
When you stuck him with a fork he will fly away and walk
On the ceiling upside down. He walks
On the ceiling upside down,
But could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!
Could Wellington or Napoleon Bonaparte
Sit for two hours in a raspberry tart?
You swear at the fly and you flare just like a trooper,
But that wouldn't stop him sitting on the fce of Gladys Cooper,
And could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!

In the wilds of Africa with his tail up hip hoorah
The ostrich roams the dales.
For a fortnight he will stand with his head stuck in the sand,
And he eats horseshoes and nails, that's all,
With perhaps amusing tales
But could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!
Could Henry Ford out in Oshkosh, Mich.
Eat horseshoes like the poor ostrich?
It's only a bird and it's ugly and it's skinny,
But on its fluffy part it grows a feather worth a guinea.
And could Lloyd George do it? Could Winston do it?
Could Baldwin do it? Why, no!
 

Subject: ADD: The Bolshevic (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 13 Sep 22 - 03:14 PM

THE BOLSHEVIC
 Written and composed by Bert Lee & R.P. Weston - 1919
Performed by Ernest Hastings

I am a bold, bad Bolshevik, to Bolsh is my delight
I'm busy bolshing all the day, and then I bolsh at night
I'm awfully good at murdering, and as I'm unemployed
I've made a little list of those who've got to be destroyed.

I'm going to murder my barber, I'd not much hair he said
To make it grow he rubbed a lot of goose-fat on my head
Next day I'd grown some feathers and I cackled and I clucked
I never have my hair cut now, I have my feathers plucked.

I'm going to kill our Parson. He's got to pass away
For at the local Parish Church upon my wedding day
'Twas him that made me say 'I will' - of all the dirty tricks
'Twill show you what they stoop to do for a paltry seven and six.

I'm going to kill our baker. I'm going to kill him dead
For last night with the 'housemaids knee' I hear he went to bed
I'll teach him to be decent, and kneeling on his chest
I'll say, 'you had the housemaid's knee, but where was all the rest?'

I'm going to kill our milkman. His skull I mean to crack
For in the milk this morn I found a stickleback
That fish came from his moo-cow, I've not the slightest doubt
Why doesn't he milk elephants and let me have a trout.

I'm going to kill our servant, for in the bathroom door
She bored a little hole and all the family said, 'What for?'
She said 'twould let the steam out and they laughed upon my life
But I saw through the notion and she went and told the wife.
 

Subject: ADD: And Yet I Don't Know (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 14 Sep 22 - 05:48 AM

AND YET, I DON'T KNOW
(R. P. Weston and Bert Lee 1922)

Performed by Stanley Holloway

Now, my sister's daughter Elizabeth May
Is going to get married next Sunday, they say.
Now, what shall I buy her? She's such a nice gel!
I think a piano would do very well.
I saw one today, only ninety-five pound:
A decent piano, I'll have it sent round.

And yet I don't know! And yet I don't know!
I think she's the rottenest player I know.
And if she keeps thumping out that 'Maiden's Pray'r'
The husband might kill his young bride, and so there!
I won't buy the piano! It's not that I'm mean;
I think I'd best buy her a sewing machine.

And yet I don't know! And yet I don't know!
A sewing machine is a 'tenner' or so!
A 'tenner' would buy lots of needles and thread,
And things that are hand-made are best, so it's said.
So it's not that I'm mingey, although I'm half Scotch -
I know what I'll buy her; an Ingersoll watch!

And yet I don't know! And yet I don't know!
In five or six years they're too fast or too slow.
And when she's turn'd seventy, that's if she's spar'd,
'Twill have cost her a fortune in being repair'd.
Or else she'll have pawn'd it, and lost it, so there!
I know what I'll buy her; a jumper to wear!

And yet I don't know! And yet I don't know!
The girls won't wear jumpers in ten years or so.
Besides she might start getting fat before long.
And fat girls in jumpers show too much ong bong!
And open work jumpers give ladies the 'flu,
I'll buy her some handkerchiefs; that's what I'll do!

And yet I don't know! And yet I don't know!
Good hankies cost twelve bob a dozen or so.
And twelve bob's too much for her poor Uncle John.
Why, anything does just to blow your nose on.
And talking of noses, hers looks red enough!
I know what I'll buy her; a nice powder puff.

She can't powder her nose with a grand piano,
Nor yet with a sewing machine.
She can't powder her nose with an Ingersoll watch:
Well, it's silly! You see what I mean!
She can't powder her nose with a jumper:
She would find it a little bit rough;
So I'll go round to Woolworth's tonight, God bless her!

And buy her a powder puff. And yet I don't know!
And yet I don't know! Sixpence ha'p'nies don't grow in backyards,
So I don't think I'll send her a powder puff,
I'll send her... my kindest regards!

Subject: ADD: My Word, You Do Look Queer! (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 15 Sep 22 - 05:57 AM

MY WORD, YOU DO LOOK QUEER
(Bob Weston & Bert Lee 1923)


I've been very poorly but now I feel prime,
I've been out today for the very first time.
I felt like a lad as I walked down the road,
Then I met Old Jones and he said, 'Well I'm blowed!'
My word, you do look queer!
My word, you do look queer!

Oh, dear! You look dreadful: you've had a near shave,
You look like a man with one foot in the grave.'
I said, 'Bosh! I'm better; it's true I've been ill.'
He said, 'I'm delighted you're better, but still,
I wish you'd a thousand for me in your will.
My word, you do look queer!'

That didn't improve me, it quite put me back,
Still, I walked farther on, and I met Cousin jack.
He looked at me hard and he murmured,'Gee whiz!
It's like him! It can't be! It isn't! It is!
By gosh! Who'd have thought it? Well, well, I declare!
I'd never have known you except for your hair.
My word, you do look queer!
My word, you do look queer!

Your cheeks are all sunk and your colour's all gone,
Your neck's very scraggy, still you're getting on.
How old are you now? About fifty, that's true.
Your father died that age, your mother did too.
Well, the black clothes I wore then'll come in for you.
My word! You do look queer!'

That really upset me; I felt quite cast down,
But I tried to buck up, and then up came old Brown.
He stared at me hard, then he solemnly said,
'You shouldn't be out, you should be home in bed.
I heard you were bad, well I heard you were gone.
You look like a corpse with an overcoat on.
'My word you do look queer!
My word you do look queer!

You'd best have a brandy before you drop dead.'
So, pale as a sheet, I crawled in the'King's Head',
The barmaid sobbed,'Oh you poor fellow,' and then She said,
'On the slate you owe just one pound ten,
You'd better pay up, we shan't see you again.
My word you do look queer!'

My knees started knocking, I did feel so sad.
Then Brown said, 'Don't die in a pub, it looks bad,'
He said, 'Come with me, I'll show you what to do.
Now I've got a friend who'll be useful to you.'
He led me to Black's Undertaking Depot,
And Black, with some crepe round his hat said,
'Hello, 'My word you do look queer!
My word you do look queer!

Now we'll fix you up for a trifling amount.
Now what do you say to a bit on account?'
I said,'I'm not dying.' He said,'Don't say that!
My business of late has been terribly flat,
But I'm telling my wife she can have that new hat!
My word, you do look queer!'

I crawled in the street and I murmured, 'I'm done.'
Then up came Old Jenkins and shouted, 'By gum!'
'My word you do look well!
My word you do look well!
You're looking fine and in the pink!'
I shouted, 'Am I?... Come and have a drink!
You've put new life in me,
I'm sounder than a bell.
By gad! There's life in the old dog yet.
My word, I do feel well!'

Subject: ADD: Ain't It Nice (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 15 Sep 22 - 03:56 PM

AINT IT NICE?
Written by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - Composed by R. Harris & R.P. Weston 1923
Performed by Daisy Dormer


Isn't love wonderful? girls, oh girls
When a boy says to you, 'What nice curls
Let us take a ramble where the grass grows high.'
Then Cupid fires his arrow and you softly sigh.

CHORUS:
Ain' it nice when he offers you a poppy
Ain' it nice when he looks at you so sloppy?
Ain't it nice when you sit upon a stile?
And he says, 'I love you please don't smile' ain' it nice
When a bee that's after honey
Tumbles down your back, and though you're most precise
When he puts his thumb and finger,
Down your back to catch the stinger
And you feel him kind of linger. Ain' it nice?

Ten o'clock! What a shock! Oh, it's late
Twenty past! home at last! at your gate
He stand till eleven, or perhaps ten past
Mother doesn't mind, she thinks you've clicked at last

CHORUS:
Ain' it nice when you're squeezing in the doorway
Ain' it nice though it's colder far than Norway?
Ain' it nice when he's never kissed before?
And he says, 'Miss do I blow or draw?' Ain' it nice?
When Ma asks him in to supper
And you think he's used to champagne served on ice
You feel all your chances slipping
And the tablecloth you're gripping
Till he says, 'I like your dripping.' Ain' it nice?

Soon the bells, wedding bells, ring ding, dong
Man and wife, tied for life, good and strong
When the parson whispers, 'Don't forget that we
Have our christenings every Sunday twelve till three.'

CHORUS:
Ain' it nice when the men all rush to kiss you
Ain' it nice when Ma cries and says she'll miss you?
Ain' it nice that old wedding toast that runs?
'May all your cares be little ones.' Ain' it nice?
When they all go home and leave you
And you're thinking is this earth or paradise?
When he whispers, 'You're my own dear
We won't need a chaperone, dear
And, at last we're all alone dear. Ain' it nice?'

Subject: ADD: Somebody's Coming to Tea (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 17 Sep 22 - 11:07 AM

SOMEBODY'S COMING TO TEA

Words and music by Clay Smith, R.P. Weston & Bert Lee
Performed by Stanley Kirkby & Harry Hudson
Performed by Lee White (1886-1927)

Every one at home today is mighty busy
Polishing the knocker there's my old Aunt Lizzie
Father's on a ladder with a great big broom
Breaking up the spiders' homes in our best room
Mother's cleaning windows, and when passers by
Whisper, 'What's the matter, dearie?' I reply

CHORUS:
Somebody's coming to tea on Sunday
Somebody's coming to tea
Mother will bake a cake all for somebody's sake
Somebody dear to me
Somebody's coming to tea on Sunday
There'll be a jubilee
All of the girls are going to wear their Sunday blouses
Father intends to wear his pair of wedding cuff-links
Ma will have her hair in crackers all day Saturday
Somebody's coming to tea

Baby Fred agrees with little sister Mabel
Not to wipe his jammy fingers on the table
Mother's doing all she can to teach our Steve
To use his little handkerchief and not his sleeve
Billy drops his aitches worse than poor old mum
So he's agreed on Sunday to be deaf and dumb

CHORUS:
Somebody's coming to tea on Sunday
Somebody's coming to tea
Mother will bake a cake all for somebody's sake
Somebody dear to me
Somebody's coming to tea on Sunday
There'll be a jubilee
Mother's been roaming up and down the street to borrow
Cups that have handles on, and somehow by tomorrow
Father's going to get a pound of real lump sugar, 'cos
Somebody's coming to tea

Reggie's such a dear, I know they're sure to like him
But I kind of wonder how they're going to strike him
Guess they're rough and ready, tho' as true as steel
While Reggie has a serviette at every meal
Mother says, 'Don't worry, dear if he proves true
He'll be blind to all our failings, and see only you.'

CHORUS:
Somebody's coming to tea on Sunday
Somebody's coming to tea
Mother will bake a cake all for somebody's sake
Somebody dear to me
Somebody's coming to tea on Sunday
There'll be a jubilee
Father, he's going to look just like an Oxford Scholar
After he's had a shave he's going to turn his collar
He's going to call our mother 'dear' instead of other things
Somebody's coming to tea.

Subject: ADD: Heaven Will Protect an Honest Girl-Weston/Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 17 Sep 22 - 05:03 PM

HEAVEN WILL PROTECT AN HONEST GIRL version 1
 Written by R.P. Weston, Bert Lee, Harris Weston 1933
Sung by Gracie Fields

On the day I left the village, my dear Mother whispered, "Nell
Take this piece of bread and dripping and your fare,
And remember when in London, though you're just a servant gel
You're a blonde, the sort that gentlemen ensnare.
With your youth and fatal beauty, when you get to Waterloo
There'll be crowds of dukes and millionaires all waiting there for you.

Heaven will protect an honest gel,
An an-gi-el will guard you, little Nell.
When these rich men tempt you, Nelly,
With their spark-el-ling Moselly,
Say "Nay! nay!" and do be very care-fu-el!
And if some old bloated blase roue swell
Says 'I'll kiss you, we're alone in this hotel;'
Breathe a prayer he shall not do it
And then biff him with the cruet,
Then Heaven will protect an honest gel!"


When I got to wicked London in my little clogs and shawl,
And my but of bread and dripping in my hand,
I went up to that big Lifeguard on his horse outside Whitehall
And I asked him to direct me to the Strand.
But he didn't even answer; he just sat there with his sword
In a helment that had whiskers on, so I said,"Thank the Lord, for...


Heaven will protect an honest gel,"
And I reached Picadilly safe and well
There I saw a red light glowing
But across I started going
When a P'liceman pulled me back I nearly fell.
"You're a silly little fool," he starts to yell
"Don't you know what that red light means?" I said, "Well,
Red's for danger, if you please, sir,
But don't switch it on for me, sir,
'Cause Heaven will protect an honest gel!"

Optional second verse chorus (or first chorus of third verse if
three verses are used):

Heaven will protect an honest gel,
That night I got a job at some hotel,
But the chef was most improper
For he sat me on the copper
And said "Kiss me or I'll boil you, little Nell."
But I slapped him on the face---and in I fell,
And I came up for the third time with a yell,
"In the soup I'm going to simmer,
But I'll come out clean and slimmer,
For Heaven will protect an honest gel!"

I wandered round Li-cester Square from six o'clock till nine
But no millionaire came tempting me to stray,
"If he does", I thought, "I'll let him take me to the Ritz to dine
Then I'll gollop up his tripe and run away."
Eeh by gum! I did feel hungry! Eeh! I hadn't had a bite
Since my bit of bread and dripping, and I knew that Ma was right, For...

Heaven will protect an honest gel.
Next day I pawned my shawl in Camberwell,
Then my skirt and blouse, I sold 'em
And went tramping back to Oldham;
When a fortnight passed, then I rang at the bell.
"Eeh, but Mother dear," I said, "it's little Nell,
I have lost my sole, my uppers too, as well
And I've walked home in my undies.
But I'll tell my Class on Sundays
That Heaven will protect an honest gel!"

Subject: ADD: Heaven Will Protect an Honest Girl-Weston/Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 17 Sep 22 - 05:04 PM

HEAVEN WILL PROTECT AN HONEST GIRL version 2
(Weston and Lee)
Performed by Gracie Fields

On the day I left the village, my dear Mother Whispered 'Nell,
Take this piece of bread and dripping and your fare,
And remember when in London, though you're just a servant gel,
You're a blonde, the sort that gentlemen ensnare.
With your youth and fatal beauty, when you get to Waterloo,
There'll be crowds of dukes and millionaires
All waiting there for you' - 'But...

Heaven will protect an honest gel,
An an-gi-el will guard you, little Nell,
When these rich men tempt you, Nelly,
With their spark-el-ling Moselly,
Say 'Nay-nay!' and do be very carefu-el!
And if some old bloated blase roue swell
Says'l'll kiss you, we're alone in this hotel',
Breathe a prayer he shall not do it,
And then biff him with the cruet,
Then Heaven will protect an honest gel!'

When I got to wicked London, in my little clogs and shawl,
And my bit of bread and dripping in my hand,
I went up to that big Lifeguard on his horse outside Whitehall,
And I asked him to direct me to the Strand.
But he didn't even answer, he just sat there with his sword,
In a helmet that had whiskers on, so I said, 'Thank the Lord

Heaven will protect an honest gel,
And I reached Piccadilly safe and well,
There I saw a red light showing,
But across I started going,
When a P'liceman pulled me back I nearly fell.
'You're a silly little fool' he starts to yell,
'Don't you know what that red light means?' I said 'Well,
Red's for danger if you please sir,
But don't switch it on for me sir,
'Cause Heaven will protect an honest gel!'

Heaven will protect an honest gel,
That night I got a job at some Hotel,
But the Chef was most improper,
For he sat me on the copper
And said, 'Kiss me or I'll boil you, little Nell.'
But I slapped him on the face and in I fell,
And I came up for the third time with a yell,
'In the soup I'm going to simmer
But I'll come out clean and slimmer,
For Heaven will protect an honest gel!'

I wandered round Li-cester Square from six o'clock till nine,
But no millionaire came tempting me to stray,
'If he does,' I thought, 'I'll let him take me to the Ritz to dine,
Then I'll gollop up his tripe and run away.'
Eh by gum, I did feel hungry, eh, I hadn't had a bite
Since my bit of bread and dripping, and I knew that
Ma was right - For

Heaven will protect an honest gel,
That night I got a job at some hotel,
But the chef was most improper
For he sat me on the copper
And said "Kiss me or I'll boil you, little Nell."
But I slapped him on the face---and in I fell,
And I came up for the third time with a yell,
"In the soup I'm going to simmer,
But I'll come out clean and slimmer,
For Heaven will protect an honest gel!"

Heaven will protect an honest gel,
Next day I pawned my shawl in Camberwell,
Then my skirt and blouse, I sold 'em
And went tramping back to Oldham;
When a fortnight passed, then I rang at the bell.
'Eh, but Mother dear' I said 'it's little Nell,
I have lost my sole, my uppers too, as well;
And I've walked home in my undies,
But I'll tell my Class on Sundays
That Heaven will protect an honest gel!'

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: GeoffLawes
Date: 18 Sep 22 - 03:31 AM

Rawtenstall Annual fair     http://folksongandmusichall.com/index.php/rawtenstall-annual-fair/
Rawtenstall Annual Fair -Lee Nicholson on YouTube    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWYVzb2iOV4
Many other recordings of Rawtenstall Annual Fair on Youtube    https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Rawtenstall+Annual+Fair

Subject: What I Want Is a Proper Cup of Coffee(Weston/Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 18 Sep 22 - 05:26 AM

WHAT I WANT IS A PROPER CUP OF COFFEE

Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1926
Performed by Ernie Mayne (1871-1937)

A Sultan sat on his oriental mat
In his harem in downtown Persia
He took a sip of coffee, just a drip
And he said to his servant Kersha
"Ah, Kersha, Kersha, Kershia
That's the worst cup of coffee in Persia"

CHORUS:
'Cause all I want is a proper cup of coffee
Made in a proper copper coffee pot
I may be off my dot but I want a proper coffee
In a proper copper pot"
"Iron coffee pots and tin coffee pots
They are no use to me
If I can't have a proper cup of coffee
In a proper copper coffee pot, I'll have a cup of tea"

In days of old when knights and men were bold
And whiskey was much cheaper
Dick Turpin rode to a coffee shop
And showed his pistols to the keeper
He said, "Stand and deliver!
Can't you see that I'm all a quiver?"

Chorus:'Cause all I want is a proper cup of coffee
Made in a proper copper coffee pot
I may be off my dot but I want a proper coffee
In a proper copper pot"
"Iron coffee pots and tin coffee pots
They are no use to me
If I can't have a proper cup of coffee
In a proper copper coffee pot, I'll have a cup of tea"

When Bonaparte found that he was in the cart
And he lost that Waterloo fight
He gave his sword to Wellington, my Lord
And he said, "Those British can't half fight"
"Now you've had your Waterloo, sir
Tell me what am I having with you, sir?"

Chorus:'Cause all I want is a proper cup of coffee
Made in a proper copper coffee pot
I may be off my dot but I want a proper coffee
In a proper copper pot"
"Iron coffee pots and tin coffee pots
They are no use to me
If I can't have a proper cup of coffee
In a proper copper coffee pot, I'll have a cup of tea"

Now king Solomon and his queen would carry on
So we heard in the ancient scandals
He bought her lots of silver coffee pots
With diamond legs and handles
And said the Queen of Sheba
"I'd rather have any old tea-bag"

Chorus: 'Cause all I want is a proper cup of coffee
Made in a proper copper coffee pot
I may be off my dot but I want a proper coffee
In a proper copper pot"
"Iron coffee pots and tin coffee pots
They are no use to me
If I can't have a proper cup of coffee
In a proper copper coffee pot, I'll have a cup of tea"

Subject: ADD: Knees Up Mother Brown (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 18 Sep 22 - 06:20 AM

KNEES UP MOTHER BROWN

Written by R.H. Weston/I. Taylor & Bert Lee - 1938
Performed by Elsie & Doris Waters


I've just been to 'ding-dong' down dear old Brixton way
Old Mother Brown the Pearly Queen's a hundred years today
Oh what a celebration! was proper lah-di-dah!
Until they rolled the carpet up, and shouted 'Nah then, Ma'

Chorus: Knees up Mother Brown! Well! Knees up Mother Brown
Under the tables you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh
If I catch you bending
I'll saw your legs right off
So, knees up, knees up
Don't get the breeze-up
Knees up Mother Brown.

And fat old Uncle 'Enry quite enjoyed the fun
The buttons on his Sunday pants kept bustin' one by one
But still 'e kept on dancin' another one went pop
He said'I'm goin' to keep on till me 'round-me-houses' drop, Ooh

Chorus:Knees up Mother Brown! Well! Knees up Mother Brown
Under the tables you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh
If I catch you bending
I'll saw your legs right off
So, knees up, knees up
Don't get the breeze-up
Knees up Mother Brown.

Then old Maria Perkins, she danced wiv all 'er might
Each time she kicked her legs up we all shouted with delight
'Lift up yer skirts Maria - my word yer doin' fine
And we can see yer washin' 'anging on the Siegfried Line, Ooh

Chorus:Knees up Mother Brown! Well! Knees up Mother Brown
Under the tables you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh
If I catch you bending
I'll saw your legs right off
So, knees up, knees up
Don't get the breeze-up
Knees up Mother Brown.

We 'ad no 'pigs-ear' glasses, but still we didn't mind
We drank it out of 'vauses' and whatever we could find
We toasted good old Nelson there 'anging by the door
And as we blew the froth at him he shouted with a roar, Ohh

Chorus:Knees up Mother Brown! Well! Knees up Mother Brown
Under the tables you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh
If I catch you bending
I'll saw your legs right off
So, knees up, knees up
Don't get the breeze-up
Knees up Mother Brown.

Bill drove up on 'is barrer - just like a proper swell
And Mother Brown said, 'Come inside and bring you're moke as well.'
It nibbled Grandad's whiskers, then started kicking out
And as Ma Brown went through the window we began to shout, Ooh

Chorus:Knees up Mother Brown! Well! Knees up Mother Brown
Under the tables you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh
If I catch you bending
I'll saw your legs right off
So, knees up, knees up
Don't get the breeze-up
Knees up Mother Brown.

And then old Granny Western - she'ad a good 'blow out'
She 'ad two pints of winkles wiv some cockles and some stout
'I might 'ave indigestion,' she murmured with a grunt
'But lummy, up to now, it's all quiet on the Western front! Ooh

Chorus:Knees up Mother Brown! Well! Knees up Mother Brown
Under the tables you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh
If I catch you bending
I'll saw your legs right off
So, knees up, knees up
Don't get the breeze-up
Knees up Mother Brown.

A crowd stood by the winder - they 'ad a lovely time
The kids sat on the railin's, thought it was a pantomime
Pa went round wiv 'is 'titfer' - collected one and three
We shouted 'Come on, Mother, show 'em your agilitee,' Ooh

Chorus: Knees up Mother Brown! Well! Knees up Mother Brown
Under the tables you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh
If I catch you bending
I'll saw your legs right off
So, knees up, knees up
Don't get the breeze-up
Knees up Mother Brown.

Subject: ADD: She Was Poor But She Was Honest(Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 18 Sep 22 - 07:27 AM

SHE WAS POOR BUT SHE WAS HONEST
 Written and composed by R.P. Weston and Bert Lee - 1930
Performed by Billy Bennett (1887-1942)
Performed by Elsa Lanchester (1902-1986) 

She was poor but she was honest,
though she came from 'umble stock,
And her honest heart was beating
Underneath her tattered frock.

But the rich man saw her beauty,
She knew not his base design,
And he took her to a hotel
And bought her a small port wine.

Chorus: It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?

In the rich man's arms she fluttered
Like a bird with a broken wing,
But he loved her and he left her,
Now she hasn't got no ring.

Time has flown - outcast and homeless
In the street she stands and says,
While the snowflakes fall around her,
'Won't you buy my bootlaces.'

Chorus:It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?

Standing on the bridge at midnight
She says, 'Farewell, blighted love!'
There's a scream, a splash, good 'eavens!
What is she a doing of?

Soon they dragged her from the river,
Water from her clothes they wrang.
They all thought that she was drownded,
But the corpse got up and sang:

Chorus:It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?

She was poor but she was honest,
Victim of a rich man's game.
First he loved her, then he left her,
And she lost her maiden name.

Then she ran away to London
For to hide her grief and shame.
There she met an Army captain,
And she lost her name again.

Chorus:It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?

See him riding in a carriage
Past the gutter where she stands.
He has made a stylish marriage,
While she wrings her ringless hands.

See him there at the theatre,
In the front row with the best,
While the girl that he has ruined
Entertains a sordid guest.

Chorus:It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?

See her on the bridge at midnight,
Crying "Farewell, blighted love".
Then a scream, a splash and Goodness!
What is she a-doing of?

When they dragged her from the river
Water from her clothes they wrung.
Though they thought that she was drownded,
Still her corpse got up and sung:

Chorus: It's the same the whole world over,
It's the poor what gets the blame,
It's the rich what gets the pleasure,
Isn't it a blooming shame?

Subject: ADD:Great Big Saw Came Nearer&Nearer -Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 18 Sep 22 - 12:04 PM

AND THE GREAT BIG SAW CAME NEARER AND NEARER
 Written and composed by R.H. Weston & Bert Lee - 1936
Performed by Leslie Sarony (1897-1985)

Now he was a saw-mill proprietor
And she was a fair maid unkissed
One evening he winked his squint eye at her
But she said, 'Nay, nay, Sir, desist'
So he dragged her into the saw-mill, poor wench
Then he took off his belt and strapped her to the bench

Chorus: And the great big saw came nearer and nearer
And nearer and nearer and nearer
'Be my wife or I will cut you in two'
Said the villain to poor little Vera
But she said, 'Nay, nay, though you cut me in twain
The angels will stick me together again'
And the great big saw came nearer and nearer
And nearer and nearer and nearer.

The villainous saw-mill proprietor
Heard her screaming there fit to bust
So what did he do to quiet her
He filled up her mouth with saw dust
She looked like a lovely wax doll there it's true
And chock full of saw dust she felt like that too

Chorus: And the great big saw came nearer and nearer
And nearer and nearer and nearer
'Be my wife or I will cut you in two'
Said the villain to poor little Vera
But she said, 'Nay, nay, though you've money in banks
I wouldn't wed you if you cut me in planks
And the great big saw came nearer and nearer
And nearer and nearer and nearer.

But Ha, look who's here, why it's young rancher Jim
'Tis her sweetheart a burly sheep herder
And he yells to the villain, 'Hands up you brute'
And the great big saw came nearer and nearer
But the villain has used his belt strapping her down
Yes he's used it to strap down poor Vera
So when he throws his hands up, his trousers fall down
And the great big saw came nearer and nearer

But who's this? It's the sheriff. He shows them his star
Then he says when he looks round at Vera
'Gee ain't that just too bad. What d'ya know about that?'
And the great big saw came nearer and nearer
Ah, then in came the doctor (He heard the gal scream)
So he thought she'd been queer and get queerer
He says 'Show me your tongue! Now lets feel your pulse'
And the great big saw came nearer and nearer

Ah, who's this? 'Tis the undertaker with tape
He kneels down and measures poor Vera
Says, 'Would you like it in elm or in oak?'
And the great big saw came nearer and nearer
'Ah, but can nothing save her?' they say as they weep
As they think it means good-bye to Vera
Till she hollers out, 'Stop the machinery, you fools'
And they do, it's a darn good idea.

And the saw no more comes nearer and nearer
And nearer and nearer and nearer.
Wedding bells ding dong, the hero so strong
Goes to church with his beautiful Vera
But now, fed up with marriage she'll say, 'Listen here
For goodness sake next time, Sam, don't interfere
When the big saw comes nearer and nearer
And nearer and nearer and nearer.'

Subject: ADD: Bachelor Ben (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 19 Sep 22 - 04:38 AM

BACHELOR BEN
 Written and composed by R.P. Weston & Bert Lee - 1926
Performed by Bromley Carter

I'm sixty seven and thin on the thatch,
I'm a bachelor still and I always shall batch.
My married friends laugh and declare I'm a chump
But when I see their wives, I think, "Umph! I'm no gump."
I can sit here in piece and there's no-one to shriek,
"I shall want some more house-keeping money this week."
And there's no Jumper patterns strewn all round my den,
Ee!... there's not many flies on old Bachelor Ben.
I don't want you to think I hate women becos
When I was eighteen, I was 'Hot Stuff'... I was.
In those days I ran after every young lass,
By Gad, I've been over a good bit of grass!
Why, when I was six, at a local bazaar
I proposed to a girl, aye... and asked her papa.
I saw her last week, she'd a family of ten...
A fine mess she'd have made of old Bachelor Ben.

We'd no picture shows then to spoon in the dark
But I've made rare good use of a seat in the park.
But I must say the girls were a trifle too slick,
They were what you'd call snatchers and grabbed at you quick.
It was fatal to go home to supper with one,
I know I once did and I thought I was done.
I'd no sooner got in than they shouted, "Say when!"
And out through the doorway went Bachelor Ben.

There was one girl, named Rose, she came of good stock;
Well, her mother said she was the flower of the flock;
But Rose went and married the gardener, Jim;
Now there's six little rosebuds all climbing round him.
And then there was Eileen, her other name's Green,
She looked like a fairy when she was nineteen,
But nowadays Eileen weighs fourteen stone ten,
Thank the Lord she's not leaning on Bachelor Ben.

And every old bachelor must have his joke,
But there's one face I see when I sit here and smoke.
She would have been mine... but alas she has gone
And her mem'ry is all that I have to live on.
There aren't any weddings were she is, they say,
But down in my heart I feel certain, some day
When I'm called and I leave my old bachelor den,
She'll be waiting above... for old Bachelor Ben.

Subject: ADD: The Beefeater (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 19 Sep 22 - 05:34 AM

THE BEEFEATER
(R. P. Weston and Bert Lee)
Performed by Stanley Holloway


Spoken: Oh dear, starting another day I suppose, showing these ‘ere gumps
around the Tower. Still, it’s got to be done, someone’s got to do it.
Good Morning! What’s that? Will I show you around t’Tower, Sir? You’re from
Yorkshire, Sir? Ba goom! The world’s small. I’m from Yorkshire meself... aye;
These ‘ere Cockneys don’t know there’s a tower here at all.'

First of all, Sir, we come to the canteen
Where you wash the cobwebs off your chest.
That’s our motto there - ‘Honi soit qui may y pense’,
And in Yorkshire that means beer is best.

Eh? I’ll have a pint, Sir, and thank yer,
You’ll find it good ale to sup.
Well, as Guy Fawkes said when he got bunged in Dungeon
And tumbled head first – "Bottoms up!"

That big ‘ole outside is the moat, Sir,
And they do say if ever John Bull
Sells the tower for a road house with cracks puttied up –
It’ll make a damn fine swimming pool.

And now, Sir, we come to armoury;
Here’s the tin pants of Dick Coeur de Lion.
Just imagine the job that his old woman had
Putting patches on with soldering iron.

Here’s the shirt and the chainmail Black Prince wore...
To starch and iron that were real tricky:
It took three boilermakers to put on his shirt,
And a blacksmith to put on his dicky.

And this ‘ere’s the real 'eadsman’s block, Sir,
From this many ‘eads fell with a thud –
Ee!... to keep all these ‘ere stains fresh all these three hundred years
We’ve used buckets and buckets of blood.

‘Ere’s the axe – that’s the genuine axe, Sir,
That’s given Royal necks some ‘ard whacks.
Tho’ it’s ‘ad a new ‘andle and perhaps a new head
But it’s a real old original axe.

And down here’s where Princes were murdered,
Aye, strangled poor kids in cold blood.
And what’s worse, down here I tossed Scotsman for shilling...
I won, but the shilling was dud.

And here’s where they tortured the prisoners...
On that rack when they wouldn’t confess
They were crushed till their blood ran drip, drip, drip.
Feeling faint, Sir?... Well, here’s sergeant’s mess.

Eh? Oh , thank you, I will have a pint, Sir,
For talking’s a day’s work. Bet your life!
For when I show you ducking stool they had for women
By Goom, you’ll wish you’d brought the wife.

And why do they call us Beefeaters?
Is it ‘cos we eat beef, Sir, Nay, nay.
The sergeant eats pork and the corporal eats bacon,
But I eat tripe three times a day.

And so you shall know we’re Beefeaters;
There’s me who has fought in the wars
‘As to walk round with frills on me neck like a hambone,
A daft hat and purple plus fours.

But here’s why they call us Beefeaters,
King Alfred, one night so they say
Fell over the feet of the sentry
And shouted "Oi! Keep your B– feet out of the way!"

Subject: ADD: Good-Bye-ee (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 19 Sep 22 - 07:36 AM

Good-Bye-ee
(R P Weston & Bert Lee 1917)

Brother Bertie went away
To do his bit the other day
With a smile on his lips
And his Lieutenant's pips
Upon his shoulder, bright and gay
As the train moved out he said
"Remember me to all the birds"
Then he wagged his paw
And went away to war
Shouting out these pathetic words:
Goodbye-ee! Goodbye-ee!
Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eye-ee
Though it's hard to part I know, (I know)
I'll be tickled to death to go!
Don't cry-ee, don't sigh-ee
There's a silver lining in the sky-ee!
Bonsoir old thing, cheerio, chin-chin
Nah-poo, toodle-oo, goodbye-ee!
At the concert down at Kew
The convalescents, dressed in blue
Had to hear Lady Lee
Who had turned eighty three
Sing the old old songs she knew
Then she made a speech and said
"I look upon you boys with pride
And for what you've done
I'm going to kiss each one!"
Then they all grabbed their sticks and cried:
Goodbye-ee! Goodbye-ee!
Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eye-ee
Though it's hard to part I know, (I know)
I'll be tickled to death to go!
Don't cry-ee, don't sigh-ee
There's a silver lining in the sky-ee!
Bonsoir old thing, cheerio, chin-chin
Nah-poo, toodle-oo, goodbye-ee!
Little Private Patrick Shaw
He was a prisoner of war
Till a Hun with a gun
Called him "pig dog" for fun
Then Paddy punched him on the jaw!
Right across the barbed wire fence
The German dropped, in fear, dear oh dear!
All the wire gave way
And Paddy yelled "hooray!"
As he ran for the Dutch frontier!
Goodbye-ee! Goodbye-ee!
Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eye-ee
Though it's hard to part I know, (I know)
I'll be tickled to death to go!
Don't cry-ee, don't sigh-ee
There's a silver lining in the sky-ee!
Bonsoir old thing, cheerio, chin-chin
Nah-poo, toodle-oo, goodbye-ee!

Subject: ADD: Beat the Retreat (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 19 Sep 22 - 11:50 AM

BEAT THE RETREAT
(R. P. Weston and Bert Lee)

I'm a hundred and two today, bagoom!
Eh, today I'm a hundred and two,
And at ten years of age I was soldiering, aye,
I wor drummer boy at Waterloo.

And when Wellington said, 'Sam, my lad, get thy drum,'
I wor so mighty anxious to start
That I dashed out in front and got captured by French,
And wor taken afore Boneyparte.

And Boneyparte, scratching his-self under t'arm,
Like you see him in pictures today,
Said, 'Voila!' so you are a drummer boy, oui
Then show us how well you can play.'

'Sam, Sam! beat the Retreat!
Beat the Retreat on thy drum.'
I said, 'Beat the what?'
He said, 'Beat the Retreat.'
I said, 'Nay, that's one thing as I'll never beat;

I'll beat y' the Charge, or I'll beat the Tattoo,
But I'm British and Yorkshire, ba goom!
And though you're Napoleon, I'll see thee blowed,
If I'll beat the Retreat on my drum!'

Then, scratching his-self under t'arm once again,
In the way Boneyparte always did,
He said, 'Sacre bloo!' which is French for 'Ba goom',
'Eh, thou hast got a sauce for a kid.'

Then he called Josephine (Josephine wor his Queen)
And he said, 'Tell this lad, Josephine,
If he don't beat Retreat on his drum,
He'll be shot, aye, and put underneath Guil-li-o-tine.'

So she put her arm round me, and stroking me 'air,
She whispered, 'Hush, hush now - coom, coom!
Be a good lad - do as Boneyparte tells thee,
And beat the Retreat on thy drum!'

I said 'Missus, nay!' then she started to cry,
And she murmured, 'O, lad, you are too sweet to die;
And hast thou a mother who loves thee?' she sobbed.
I said, 'Aye, and she's Yorkshire, ba goom!
And she'd beat the Retreat on me trousers
If I were to beat the Retreat on me drum!'

Then Boneyparte, scratching his-self once again,
Said 'My lad, I've a Mother like her,'
And, taking his medals off with his two hands
And unpinning his gold Croix de Guerre,

He put them on me, kissed me on both cheeks,
Then pulled me outside of the tent,
And leading me up to his Army,
And scratching his-self under t'arm as he went,

'Soldiers of France,' he cried,
'This is Sam Small, he's a hero, though only a kid,
'E-coutez, mes braves, et com-prenez toute suite!
What do you think this lad did?

"Beat the Retreat on thy drum!" said I.
"Beat the Retreat on thy drum!"
And this lad refused, though I said he should die,
Why did he refuse?' I said, 'I'll tell 'em why,

For two reasons I wouldn't beat the Retreat,
Though I knew that it meant kingdom come;
One reason was somebody pinched both me sticks,
And the other... I'd busted me drum.'

Subject: ADD: Yorkshire Pudden (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 20 Sep 22 - 06:48 AM

YORKSHIRE PUDDEN
(Weston and Lee)

Hi waitress, excuse me a minute, now listen,
I'm not finding fault, but here, Miss,
The 'taters look gradely... the beef is a'reet,
But what kind of pudden is this?

It's what?... Yorkshire pudden!, now coom, coom, coom, coom,
It's what? Yorkshire pudden d'ye say!
It's pudden, I'll grant you... it's some sort of pudden,
But not Yorkshire pudden... nay nay!

The real Yorkshire pudden's a dream in batter,
To make one's an art, not a trade,
Now listen to me, for I'm going to tell thee,
How t' first Yorkshire pudden wor made.

A young angel on furlough from heaven,
Came flying above Ilkley Moor,
And this angel, poor thing, got cramp in her wing,
And coom down at owd woman's door.

The owd woman smiled and said, 'Ee, it's an angel,
Well I am surprised to see thee,
I've not seen an angel before... but thou 'rt welcome,
I'll make thee a nice cup o' tea.'

The angel said, 'Ee, thank you kindly, I will',
Well, she had two or three cups of tea,
Three or four Sally Lunns, and a couple of buns...
Angels eat very lightly you see.

The owd woman looking at clock said,
'By Gum! He's due home from mill is my Dan,
You get on wi' ye tea, but you must excuse me,
I must make pudden now for t' owd man.

Then the angel jumped up and said,
'Gimme the bowl... Flour and watter and eggs, salt an' all,
And I'll show thee how we make puddens in Heaven,
For Peter and Thomas and Paul'.

So t' owd woman gave her the things, and the angel,
Just pushed back her wings and said. 'Hush'
Then she tenderly tickled the mixture wi' t' spoon,
Like an artist would paint with his brush.

Aye, she mixed up that pudden with Heavenly magic,
She played with her spoon on that dough,
Just like Paderewski would play the piano.
Or Kreisler now deceased would twiddle his bow.

And then it wor done and she put it in t' oven
She said t' owd woman, 'Goodbye',
Then she flew away leaving the first Yorkshire pudden,
That ever was made... and that's why...

It melts in the mouth, like the snow in the sunshine,
As light as a maiden's first kiss,
As soft as the fluff on the breast of a dove...
Not elephant's leather, like this.

It's real Yorkshire pudden that makes Yorkshire lassies,
So buxum and broad in the hips,
It's real Yorkshire pudden that makes Yorkshire cricketers,
Win County championships.

It's real Yorkshire pudden that gives me my dreams,
Of a real Paradise up above,
Where at the last trump, I'll queue up for a lump,
Of the real Yorkshire pudden I love.

And there on a cloud... far away from the crowd,
In a real Paradise, not a dud 'un,
I'll do nowt for ever... and ever and ever,
But gollup up real Yorkshire pudden.

Subject: ADD: Sam Drummed Out (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 21 Sep 22 - 05:42 AM

SAM DRUMMED OUT
(R.P. Weston and Bert Lee)


When a lad's been drummed out of the Army,
He's an outcast despised by all men;
I'd rather be shot at dawn any old time
'Cause I never get up before ten.

Once I was drummed out, tho' today I'm a hero
With all that a soldier could wish.
Ay, once poor old Sam stood before a Court Martial
With head bowed in shame and anguish.

And the old Colonel said, when he 'eard the charge read,
'It's a terrible crime, Sam,' said he,
And the whisper went round 'Has old Sam
Been a traitor to his King and his country'?'

Nay, nay, I was charged with a crime worse than that,
Far more dastardly wicked and mean.
I were charged with maliciously putting cold water
In beer in the Sergeant's canteen.

And the Colonel's voice shook and he swallowed a lump
And he said 'Nay, nay, come, come, ee dear, dear,
Good beer is the lifeblood of our glorious army
Our battles was all won on beer.'

'What have you got to say to this terrible charge?'
I said, 'Nowt.'
He said, 'Nowt?'
I said, 'Nowt.'

He said, 'Can't you say owt but nowt?'
I said, 'No, nowt.'
'Well,' he said, 'Sam,
Then you'll be drummed out.

Next morning the company lined on parade
I stood at attention quite stiff;
Then the Sergeant stepped forward and knocked off my pillbox
And worse - he untidied me quiff.

Then he pulled out his sword and cut off me coat buttons
Them buttons fell 'clink' on the floor;
But when he began on me trousers I said
'Don't lower me prestige any more.'

Then he pulled off me medals, me twenty-five medals
I'd won out in different parts.
But I said to him, 'Oi, give me two of them back,
'Cause I won them there two playing darts.'

Then the drums and the pipes played the Rogues March
And the Colonel he sobbed and said, 'Sam,
You're no longer a Soldier, I'm sorry to say
Sam, Sam, you're a dirty old man.'

And soon I was outside the old barrack gates
With the tears rolling all down me face;
Then up rode the Colonel's young daughter, God bless her,
The pride of the Regiment, our Grace.

She said 'What's to do, Sam?'
I said 'What's to do, I'm drummed out lass for watering beer.'
Then she fell off her 'orse, threw her arms round me neck
And said 'Sam, you poor innocent dear.'

Then she rushed to her father, the Colonel, and said,
'Say, papa, I'll hand you the dope.
Poor Sam here is innocent, I did the deed
I was told to by my Band of Hope.'

Then the Colonel said, 'Corporal Sam, please come back.'
I said 'Nay, nay, I've just been drummed out.
Then the Colonel said 'Sergeant Sam, Sergeant Sam, please.
I just shrugged and said 'Nowt doing, nowt.'

He said 'Lieutenant Sam, come forgive and forget.'
But I stamped and said 'Nay, nay begone.'
Then he said 'Captain Sam.'
I said 'Captain, tut tut, make it Major and then I'll clock on.'

And that's how I won me Commission, me lads,
A commission I think I well earned
Ten per cent on the heer, ten per cent on the stout
And the pennies on bottles returned.

And the Regiment gave me a tankard inscribed with these words
Which I'm proud of I am
'Presented by First Lancashire Fuisilliers
To their champion liar, old Sam.'

Subject: ADD: St. George and the Dragon (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 21 Sep 22 - 06:11 AM

ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON
(R.P. Weston & Bert Lee)

Some folks'll boast about their family trees,
And there's some trees they ought to lop;
But our family tree, believe me, goes right back,
You can see monkeys sitting on top!

To give you some idea of our family tree,
And don't think I'm boastin' nor braggin',
My great, great, great, great, great, great, great Uncle George,
Wor the Saint George who slaughtered the Dragon.

Aye, he wor a blacksmith, not one of the sort
Who shoe horses and sing anvil chorusses,
He used to shoe Dinasauss - big woolly Elephants,
Thumping great Brontosauruses.

Well, one day while he shod a Brontosauruses, 
A feller ran into the forge,
He wor shivering with fright and his face pale and white, 
And when he got his breath he said 'George - 

'Eh, I've just seen a dragon, a whopping great dragon,'
And uncle said 'Seen what? A dragon! 
Thou'd best see a doctor, you've got 'em owld lad, 
Eh, I thought you were on water wagon!'

But the fellow said, 'Nay, 'twere a big fiery dragon, 
'Twere belchin' out fire as it run!'
And Uncle George said 'I could do with a dragon 
With coal now at two quid a ton.'

And the feller said 'Eh, but what's more
I've just heard that the old Baron up at the Castle
Says, him as kills Dragon can marry his daughter,
She's lovely and she's worth a parcel.'

Then fellow goes off and old Uncle George thinks,
Of the brass and the bride in old satin,
So he brings out his pup and a pair of his ferrets,
And says to 'em 'We're going ratting.'

The ferrets they cocked up their noses with joy,
And the old Bull pup's tail kept a-waggin',
Then Uncle George shoves 'em a'side rabbit hole,
And says to 'em 'Go on, fetch Dragon.'

Then suddenly he smells a sulphery smell,
Then he sees a big gigantic lizzard,
With smoke coming out of its eyes and its ear'oles,
And flames coming out of its gizzard.

And was George afraid? Yes, he was and he run,
And he hid there in one of the ditches,
While the Dragon, the pig, ate his ferrets and pup,
Aye, best of his prize-winning er - she dogs.

Then George said 'Gad zooks! I'll split thee to the wizzen,
By Gum, but he were in a fury,
And he runs to a junk shop, and buys a spear,
And he pinches a Drayhorse from Brew'ry.

Then he sallies forth with a teatray on chest,
On his head he'd a big copper kettle,
With a couple of flat irons to throw at the Dragon,
Owd George were a real man of mettle!

At last he meets Dragon beside of the pump,
Dragon sees him and breathes fire and slaughter,
But George he were ready and in Dragon's mouth,
He just throws a big pail of water!

The Dragon's breath sizzled he'd put out the fire,
Our family are all clever fellows!
Then so as that owd Dragon can't blow up more fire,
With his big spear he punctures his bellows.

Then finding he'd killed it, he out with his knife,
He had gumption beside other merits - 
And he cuts open Dragon, and under it's vest,
Safe and sound are the pup and the ferrets.

That night the Old Baron gave Uncle his bride,
When he saw her he fainted with horror,
She'd a face like a kite, worse than that the old Baron
Said 'George, you'll be Saint George tomorrow.'

'Course, as St George t'were no drinking nor smoking, 
They barred him horse racing as well, 
And poor old St George, when he looked at his Bride, 
Used to wish that old Dragon to... Blazes!

And he got so fed up with this being a Saint,
And the Princess he'd won always naggin',
That he bunked off one day and he opened a pub,
And he called it the 'George and the Dragon.

And he did a fine trade, eh, for years and for years.
People all came from near and from far there
Just to see Uncle George and the Dragon which he had had,
Stuffed and hung up in the bar there.

T'were a thousand feet long and three hundred feet 'wide, 
But one day while a big crowd observed it,
It fell off the nail, and squashed Uncle George, 
And the blinking old liar deserved it.
 

Subject: ADD: Josh U AH (Geo. Arthurs & Bert Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 25 Sep 22 - 07:09 AM

This one was written before R P Weston & Bert Lee worked together thanks to the film The Young Ones I already knew the chorus

Josh U AH
written by George Arthurs and Bert Lee 1912

Joshuah courted Miss May
To be correct I should say
She courted him for he was so shy
Dare not say Boo although' no one knew why
They walked out for months and for months
But he never asked her to wed
They'd sit hand in hand where the soft shadows fall
He'd sit there for hours and say nothing at all
So one night May blushingly said,

Chorus: Josh-u-ah, Josh-u-ah
Why don't you call and see Mama
She'll be pleased to know
You are my best beau
Josh-u-ah, Josh-u-ah
Nicer than lemon squash you are
Yes, by gosh you are
Josh-u-osh-u-ah.

Joshua said he would call
But never meant to at all
He'd never met May's loving mamma
But he'd heard something of what mammas are
Each night he would see May to her gate
But never would venture inside
He'd give her a kiss and he'd wish her goodnight
Then quicker than thought he would vanish from sight
Whenever May lovingly cried.

Chorus:Josh-u-ah, Josh-u-ah
Why don't you call and see Mama
She'll be pleased to know
You are my best beau
Josh-u-ah, Josh-u-ah
Nicer than lemon squash you are
Yes, by gosh you are
Josh-u-osh-u-ah.

They met a lady one day
“Oh look, there's Mother.” said May.
Joshua stared, said May with a sigh
“She is my step-mother, younger than I
The couple were soon introduced
He gazed with surprise at mamma
Perhaps he preferred her, perhaps lost his head
But Joshua married the Mother instead
And May never sings now to Pa.

Chorus: Josh-u-ah, Josh-u-ah
Why don't you call and see Mama
She'll be pleased to know
You are my best beau
Josh-u-ah, Josh-u-ah
Nicer than lemon squash you are
Yes, by gosh you are
Josh-u-osh-u-ah.

Subject: ADD: The Broken-Down Showman (Weston & Carter)
From: Monologue John
Date: 26 Sep 22 - 11:09 AM

THE BROKEN-DOWN SHOWMAN
Written and composed by Frank Carter & R.P. Weston - 1902

 
I'm the owner of a tupp'ny show, and once it was unique
With crocodiles and animiles, and every kind of freak
And people came from miles to see the great managerie
But now the lot has gone to pot, oh what a catastrophee
The wax-works started first, for on a wint'ry day
They sat by the side of the fire, they did, and melted clean away
The Salvation Army claimed the Zulu Chief
The Fasting lady choked herself by eating Yankee beef
When I told the crocodile, oh, he began to laugh
He opened his 'tater-trap' so wide, he giggled himself in half.

Chorus: Oh! Our show, it's sending me off my crust
The Fat Girl's had a puncture, and her air balloons have bust
The clown, to chaff, he struggles hard, not half
But only one of the poor hyenas ever attempts to laugh.

The Magic Man, who conjured with a borrowed watch and chain
Has disappeared with someone's watch and hasn't come back again
The Lion Tamer can't perform, he hasn't got the breath
His wife, you know, comes in the show and frightens the man to death
And out Trick Bicyclist, he can't sit on his bike
He sat on the top of the porcupine, and now he's got the spike,
The Fat Boy got eaten by the Hottentots
The spotted girl has had a bath and washed off all her spots
And our Bearded Lady, it's a fact, upon my life
Has collared the Skeleton's trousers and gone back to his lawful wife.

Chorus: Oh! Our show, it's driving me quite insane
The Boneless Man's tied up in knots and can't get out again
And now, you see, we've got no chimpanzee
The p'lice have collared the monkey
And they reckon they've captured me.

The man who used to swallow swords does nothing now but groan
This morning while at lunch he went a swallowed a mackerel bone
The Zebra went and quarrelled with the double-jointed cow
She chewed his football jersey off - he's only a donkey now
The Lion-Faced Lady was a draw, without a doubt
Till some of the terrible boys commenced a-pulling her whiskers out
And some dirty person acted most unkind
Took our performing fleas and left the other sort behind
When I go to Windsor for King Edward, don't you see
He'll reckon I'm catching him on the hop without a performing flea.

Chorus: Oh! our show, it's terrible, 'pon my soul
The Elephant's packed up his trunk, the bear's gone up the pole
The Kangaroo has hopped it from the Zoo
And all the camels have got the hump, and so has your humble too.

Subject: ADD:Hello, hello, who's your Lady friend?-Bert Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 27 Sep 22 - 02:19 PM

HELLO, HELLO, WHO'S YOUR LADY FRIEND
Written and composed by Worton David/Harry Fragson & Bert Lee - 1913
Performed by Mark Sheridan (1867-1918)
 
Jeremiah Jones a lady's man was he
Every pretty girl he loved to spoon
Till he found a wife and down by the sea
Went to Margate for the honeymoon
But when he strolled along the promenade
With his little wife just newly wed
He got an awful scare
When someone strolling there
Came up to him and winked and said,

Chorus: Hello, hello, who's your Lady friend?
Who's the little girlie by your side
I've seen you with a girl or two
Oh. Oh. Oh, I am surprised at you
Hello, Hello, stop your little games
Don't you think your ways you ought to mend?
It isn't the girl I saw you with at Brighton
Who, Who, who's your lady friend.

Jeremiah Jones took his wife's mamma one night
Round to see a moving picture show
There up on the screen a picture came in sight
Jeremiah cried, “He'd better go”
For on that picture there was Jeremiah
With a pretty girl up on his knee
Ma cried, “What does it mean?”
Then pointing to the screen
The people yelled at Jones with glee,

Chorus:Hello, hello, who's your Lady friend?
Who's the little girlie by your side
I've seen you with a girl or two
Oh. Oh. Oh, I am surprised at you
Hello, Hello, stop your little games
Don't you think your ways you ought to mend?
It isn't the girl I saw you with at Brighton
Who, Who, who's your lady friend.

Jeremiah now has settled down in life
Said goodbye to frills and furbelows 
Never thinks of girls except his darling wife
Always takes her everywhere he goes
By Jove, why there he is you naughty boy
With a lady too, you're rather free
Of course you'll stake your life
The lady is your wife
But tell me on the strict Q.T.

Chorus: Hello, hello, who's your Lady friend?
Who's the little girlie by your side
I've seen you with a girl or two
Oh. Oh. Oh, I am surprised at you
Hello, Hello, stop your little games
Don't you think your ways you ought to mend?
It isn't the girl I saw you with at Brighton
Who, Who, who's your lady friend.

Christmas pantomime was Jones's chief delight
Once he madly loved the Fairy Queen
There behind the scenes he spooned with her one night
Some one for a lark pulled up the scenes
And there was poor old Jones up on the stage
With his arms around the lady fair
The house began to roar
From Gallery down to floor
Then everybody shouted there,

Chorus:Hello, hello, who's your Lady friend?
Who's the little girlie by your side
I've seen you with a girl or two
Oh. Oh. Oh, I am surprised at you
Hello, Hello, stop your little games
Don't you think your ways you ought to mend?
It isn't the girl I saw you with at Brighton
Who, Who, who's your lady friend.
 

Subject: ADD: Boys of the Chelsea School (Carter & Weston)
From: GUEST,Monologue John
Date: 29 Sep 22 - 01:31 PM

This one appears to be the first song that R P Weston sold to Francis Day & Hunter he was paired with Frank W Carter What the song says of his character I will leave to you to decide The Chelsea was a military one

BOYS OF THE CHELSEA SCHOOL
written by Frank Carter & R P Weston 1902

Dad is now Old and having earned his pension
Needed no more his soldier blood run cool
Pleasures he finds his attention
Watching the youngsters in the Chelsea School
Only youngster learning their vocation
Learning the calling that their fathers chose
Only youngsters tended by the nation
To fight someday Britainnias foes
Dad loves these boys why?
Tis thus he will reply

Chorus
Boys of the Chelsea School
And the sons of the men we admire
In every heart In every vein
Runs the blood of a soldier sire


Oft around his knee they'd gather for a story
Tales of the charge at the Balaclava height
Once more he lives the ride of death or glory
Ah T'was an error but a glorious fight
Faces flush while eagerly they glisten
Fingers are twitching though their lips are dumb
Tells him someday their chance may come
Then they will do once more
As he did in Fifty four

Chorus
Boys of the Chelsea School
And the sons of the men we admire
In every heart In every vein
Runs the blood of a soldier sire

Subject: ADD: Lloyd George's Beer (Weston & Lee)
From: Monologue John
Date: 30 Sep 22 - 04:07 PM

This is mentioned as the first one RP Weston & Bert Lee after pairing up

LLOYD GEORGE'S BEER
written by R P Weston & Bert Lee 1915

We shall win the war, we shall win the war,
As I said before, we shall win the war.
The Kaiser’s in a dreadful fury,
Now he knows we’re making it at every brewery.
Have you read of it, seen what’s said of it,
In the Mirror and the Mail.
It’s a substitute, and a pubstitute,
And it’s known as Government Ale (or otherwise).
Lloyd George’s Beer, Lloyd George’s Beer.
At the brewery, there’s nothing doing,
All the water works are brewing,
Lloyd George’s Beer, it isn’t dear.
Oh they say it’s a terrible war, oh law,
And there never was a war like this before,
But the worst thing that ever happened in this war
Is Lloyd George’s Beer.
Buy a lot of it, all they’ve got of it.
Dip your bread in it, Shove your head in it
From January to October,
And I’ll bet a penny that you’ll still be sober.
Get your cloth in it, make some broth in it,
With a pair of mutton chops.
Drown your dogs in it, pop your clogs in it,
And you’ll see some wonderful sights (in that lovely stufo).
Lloyd George’s Beer, Lloyd George’s Beer.
At the brewery, there’s nothing doing,
All the water works are brewing,
Lloyd George’s Beer, it isn’t dear.
With Haig and Joffre when affairs look black,
And you can’t get at Jerry with his gas attack.
Just get your squirters out and we’ll squirt the buggers back,
With Lloyd George’s Beer.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 06 Oct 22 - 06:32 AM

I Shall See you Tonight
Written and Composed by Clay Smith R P Weston & Bert Lee 1917
Sung by Miss Lee White in 'Cheep'

Dear Heart tho' you are miles away
And Ocean's roll between us dear
I know your love is still sincere
I see you every night
And I'm not sad tho' all alone
A thousand times a day
My heart's on love's own telephone
Rings up your heart to say


I shall See you tonight dear
In my beautiful dream land
And your eyes will be bright dear
With love light that gleams for me
To my heart I will press you
I will kiss and Caress you
So Goodbye and God bless You
I will seed You Tonight


Your arms around me gently steal
Your Kisses on my cheek I feel
Thou just in dream it feels so real
I see you every night
And soon the sun will shine again
As bright as e'er it shone
I will find my dreams come true
Till then we'll carry on

I shall See you tonight dear
In my beautiful dream land
And your eyes will be bright dear
With love light that gleams for me
To my heart I will press you
I will kiss and Caress you
So Goodbye and God bless You
I will seed You Tonight

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 09 Oct 22 - 06:27 AM

FAIR, FAT AND FORTY
Written by R P Weston & Bert Lee 1920

Performed by Whit Cunliffe (1876-1966)
Performed by Florrie Forde (1876-1940)

Some Ladies will give anything
To keep themselves in fashion
The latest craze for slimming now
They think it's smart and dashing
That sort of thing don't worry me
I can do without it
I can run and jump, but not too much
There's not a doubt about it.
Chorus: I'm fair, fat and forty
I'm sound in wind and limb
Folks may smile but I don't heed
I'm built for comfort not not speed
The men just think I'm wonderful
At least that's what they say
Oh, I'm fair, fat and forty
Getting younger every day.
Some people say I was drawn up
By a ship's designer
My mainstay might be big but
My jib could not be finer
While bathing in the sea one day
And floating round the sereneo
A boatman shouted, 'Blimey Bill,
Here comes a submarino!'
Chorus: I'm fair, fat and forty
I'm feeling full of vim
The boys just won't leave me alone
I'm something to cuddle, not skin and bone
My chassis may be bulky but the steering gear's okay
Oh, I'm fair, fat and forty
Getting younger every day.
 

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 09 Oct 22 - 06:31 AM

DREAMING A DREAM
Joseph Tunbridge (m) Jack Waller (m) Harry Weston (m) Bert Lee (l) R P Weston (l) 1934

Al Bowlly w Ray Noble & his Orch rec Aug 30th 1934 London

Dreaming a dream,
Night and day I am far, far away.
Dreaming a dream,
I hear somebody tenderly say
Loving words of devotion,
And the joy is so tender, so sweet,
I am so thrilled with emotion,
I can feel my heart beat, beat, beat, beating!

Dreaming a dream,
I'm at home in the cottage I prize,
Watching the gleam
Of the love light in somebody's eyes!
Closer to her side I creep and fall asleep,
Then wake with empty arms and weep;
I am dreaming a dream
That may ne'er come true.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 09 Oct 22 - 06:31 AM

DREAMING A DREAM
Joseph Tunbridge (m) Jack Waller (m) Harry Weston (m) Bert Lee (l) R P Weston (l) 1934

Al Bowlly w Ray Noble & his Orch rec Aug 30th 1934 London

Dreaming a dream,
Night and day I am far, far away.
Dreaming a dream,
I hear somebody tenderly say
Loving words of devotion,
And the joy is so tender, so sweet,
I am so thrilled with emotion,
I can feel my heart beat, beat, beat, beating!

Dreaming a dream,
I'm at home in the cottage I prize,
Watching the gleam
Of the love light in somebody's eyes!
Closer to her side I creep and fall asleep,
Then wake with empty arms and weep;
I am dreaming a dream
That may ne'er come true.

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Songs and Recitations of Weston & Lee
From: Monologue John
Date: 09 Oct 22 - 06:57 AM

Any Dirty Work Today

yrics
Weston
Music
Lee
Roud
29705
Music Hall Performers
George Carney
Folk performances
Source Singers
Brenda Bentall, 1970, England
Bob Keightley, 1979, London, England
We’re here! We're here! Do you want any murders done today?
D'ya hear? D'ya hear? If you want anybody put out of the way
Call the old established firm, your old good friends in need.
Families waited on daily, the best work guaranteed!

Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to murder your mother-in-law for a shilling.
If you've got a wife or two, you want put out of the way,
We are the boys to do the job. We do them in, a bob a nob,
Here you are then!  There for a bob! Any dirty work today?
 
Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to kill any lady's old man for a shilling.
So if he's shabby and worn-out, while you're still young and gay
Let's put strychnine in his tea! Rely on us the secrecy,
You ask the lady at number three! Any dirty work today?
 
We’re here! We're here! We're the original dirty dogs.
D'ye hear! D'ye hear! If you want a good murder, see our catalogues
Poisonings done for eighteen pence, and that includes the dose.
And we've some glorious deaths in stock at one-and-nine per gross.
 
Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to strangle a cat or a dog for a shilling.
For tuppence we’ll ring your landlords bell and run away.
If there’s anyone you hate, for ninepence when the hour is late,
We’ll chalk rude words on his garden gate! Any dirty work today?
 
Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to burn any house to the ground for a shilling.
The petrol costs us eight pence, you may think it doesn’t pay;
For fourpence profit doesn’t sound a lot, but we’ve got a decent round
And sixty fourpences make a pound: Any dirty work today?
 
We’re here! We're here! Now does anyone want a quick divorce?
D'ye hear! D'ye hear! We can make it easy as backing a horse
Evidence we can wangle in a way they can’t detect
“Homes broken up on the shortest notice!” “Happy firesides wrecked”
 
Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to get your evidence up for a shilling.
If you’ve a wife that’s as good and pure as flowers that bloom in May
Pay a bob, then up we creep, black her face while she’s asleep,
And swear we saw her kissing the sweep: Any dirty work today?
 
Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to settle a newly born babe for a shilling.
We’ll wait out on the stairs until the doctor’s gone away,
Then grab the baby from the nurse, no mess, no trouble and no fuss
Lend us a pail and leave it to us: Any dirty work today?
 
 
Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to cut off a nanny goat’s beard for a shilling.
And if the dairy farmers says: “Your bill you’ve got to pay!”
For fourpence round his cows will sneak, we’ll feed them on onions for a week;
He’ll get no milk because they’ll spring a leak: Any dirty work today?
 
Do you want any dirty work done, any dirty work today?
Here we are, ready and willing, to trip up old ladies for 3 and a shilling.
For Fourpence down, we'll have high tea at Lyon’s café
And though the menus plainly says: No tips allowed!
We’ll watch and wait, then slip a penny beneath the plate! Any dirty work today?
Another song from Weston and Lee, though this one doesn’t appear quite so well remembered in the folk world. It has only been found three times in the south of England, the recording by Brenda Bentall is listed on the VWML site, the other 2 are not that can be found in the British Library Sound archive.
I can’t find a lot about George Carney’s (1847-1947) career in the halls, other than that he once appeared with Fred Karno as a sketch artist. In his early life, he worked both in the Liverpool Cotton Exchange and the Belfast shipyards. From 1913 he increasingly became involved in the film industry, first as a character actor and later as a director.
I think this is a song worth singing, the black humour appeals to me! If you agree check out the recording of Bob Keighley below.
Sources:
VWML entry
Kilgarrif Sing Us
Fred Carney at IMDB
Lyrics transcribed from recording of Bob Keightley at British Library sounds

Last Updated on July 11, 2020