Hail, Poetry

Hail, Poetry 

…which is all about the human condtion.

Albert and the Lion

There’s a famous seaside place called Blackpool,

That’s noted for fresh air and fun,

And Mr. And Mrs. Ramsbottom

Went there with young Albert, their son.


A grand little lad was young Albert,

All dressed in his best; quite a swell

With a stick with an ’orse’s ’ead ’andle,

The finest that Woolworth’s could sell.


They didn’t think much of the Ocean:

The waves, they was fiddlin’ and small,

There was no wrecks and nobody drownin’,

In fact, nothing to laugh at at all.


So, seeking for further amusement,

Thay paid and went into the zoo,

Where they’d Lions and Tigers and camels,

And old ale and sandwiches, too.


There were one great big Lion called Wallace;

His nose were all covered with scars –

And he lay in a somnolent posture

With the side of his face on the bars.


Now Albert had heard about Lions,

How they was ferocious and wild –

To see Wallace lying so peaceful,

Well, it didn’t seem right to the child.


So straightway the brave little feller,

Not showing a morsel of fear,

Took his stick with its ’orse’s ’ead ’andle

And bunged it in Wallace’s ear.


You could see that the Lion didn’t like it,

For giving a kind of a roll,

He pulled Albert inside the cage with ’im,

And swallowed the little lad ’ole.


Then Pa, who had seen the occurrence,

And didn’t know what to do next,

Said, “Mother, Yon Lion’s ’et Albert,”

And Mother said, “Well, I am vexed!”


Then Mr. And Mrs, Ramsbotton –

Quite rightly, when all’s said and done –

Complained to the Animal Keeper

That the Lion had eaten their son.


The keeper was quite nice about it;

He said, “What a nasty mishap.

Are you sure that it’s your boy he’s eaten?”

Pa said, “Am I sure?  There’s his cap!”


The manager had to be sent for.

He came and he said, “What’s to do?”

Pas said, “Yon Lion’s ’et Albert,

And ’im in his Sunday best, too.”


Then Mother said, “Right’s right, young feller;

I think it’s a shame and a sin

For a lion to go and eat Albert,

And after we’ve paid to come in.”


The manager wanted no trouble;

He took out his purse right away,

Saying, “How much to settle the matter?”

And Pa said, “What do you usually pay?”


But Mother had turned a bit awkward

When she thought where her Albert had gone.

“No!  Someone’s got to be summonsed” –

So that was decided upon.


Then off they all went to the Police station,

In front of the Magistrate chap;

They told ’im what happened to Albert,

And proved it by showing his cap.


The Magistrate gave his opinion

That no one was really to blame

And he said that he hoped the Ramsbottom’s

Woulod have further sons to their name.


At that, Mother got proper blazing, and

“Thank you, sir, kindly,” said she.

“What, waste all our lives raising children

To feed ruddy Lions?  Not me!”

One thought on “Hail, Poetry

  1. Hilarious …. I used to do this at Church Talent nights back in the 50’s and 60’s …
    You might be interested in hearing the original recording:

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