Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, March 5, 1892   By: Various

VOL. 102.

March 5th, 1892.

POPULAR SONGS RE SUNG.

Great is the might of the Meaningless! Especially in a rattling refrain or a rousing chorus. Big drum effects are always popular. What wonder clever Miss LOTTIE COLLINS'S " Ta ra ra boom de ay !" is all the rage? "Her greatest creation" ( vide advertisements), "sung and danced with the utmost verve ," has taken the town. Will it "mar its use" to attach a meaning to it? Let us try:

No. VI. THAT'S HOW WE BOOM TO DAY!

[Illustration]

I.

A SMART "mug lumberer" one must be To day, to "fetch" Sassiety; Not too strict, of swagger free, And as "fly" as "fly" can be. Ever pushing, ever bold, (Else one's left "out in the cold") Thus Success you grasp, and hold. And may sing, though Pecksniffs scold,

Chorus.

Tra la! We "boom" to day! That's how we "boom" to day! Bra va! We "boom" to day! Hoo rah! We "boom" to day! [ And so on, six times or more.

II.

All want to "Boom." But don't be shy, For modesty is all my eye. Shun all reserve, if you would try For "paying" notoriety. If you would "make your pile" in haste, You must not bother about "taste." Every chance must be embraced, If you would sing when fairly "placed," Chorus Tra la! We "boom" to day! [ Over and over again.

III.

Art's a good game. 'Tis easier far Than 'twas of old to be a Star. Hit on some trick crepuscular, Like smudge or smoke, and there you are! They'll mouth, and call you "Master." So You're sure in time to be a go. You will catch on, and sell, although Your meaning not a soul may know, Chorus Tra la la! "Boom" to day! [ Ad libitum.

IV.

If Humour is your little line, Coherent sense you must resign, Cry, "Paradox alone's divine! LAMB had his manner, this is Mine!" Try strain and twist; gnaw the dry bone Of mirth till all the marrow's gone; And crowds, who first stared like a stone, Your "subtle genius" soon will own. Chorus Tra la! We "boom" to day! [ Ad nauseam.

V.

Is the Dramatic "biz" preferred? There you may "boom" it like a bird. Turn on the Absolute Absurd; By that strange tap the mob is stirred. Be dismal, deathly, dirty, dim; Grovelling, ghastly, gruesome, grim, Anything meaning morbid whim; Quidnuncs will cry, "What treuth! what vim !" Chorus Tra la la! "Boom" to day! [ As long as you like !

VI.

Or would you even higher fly, And found a "Cult"? You've but to try. That blend fools follow in full cry, Meaninglessness plus Mystery! A witch astride upon a broom, A bogie in a darkened room, Nonsense and nubibustic gloom, Mix them like witch broth; they will "boom"! Chorus Tra la! We "boom" to day! [ Till you are tired of it.

VII.

Boom! Boom! 'Twill bring in cent. per cent., With that Big Drum, Advertisement. Nonsense, with nous discreetly blent, Finds the world cheated and content. But "make your game" while yet there's room, For novel shapes of quackery. Doom Awaits us in the outer gloom: A day may come when Bosh won't "Boom"!

Chorus. That's how we "boom" to day! Tra la! We "boom" to day! Ha ha! We "boom" to day! Tra la! We "boom" to day! [ And so on till further orders.

[Illustration: "ASSISTED EDUCATION."]