The Knock-Out

In replying to a Trades Hall deputation yesterday, Mr Hughes said that he did not know where he was because the deputation was so reasonable. “The preamble of your organisation,” he said, “is one which frankly declares its intention to overturn the existing order of society. Now you talk like sensible men, and I am a bit staggered.”

When one of you Bolshie fellows
Rises to his feet and bellows —
Calling out,
With savage shout,
For something quite absurd,
Then I know just how to treat you;
For on even ground I meet you.
But when you
Seek tactics new,
It’s tough, upon my word!

When your reasonable talking
All my rhetoric is baulking
I can not
In anger hot
Uprise and give you beans,
I can not rehearse those phrases
Wishing you to flaming blazes.
When you preach
In such mild speech
I don’t know what it means.

Do you think you’re playing fairly?
Do you think you’re dealing squarely?
Softies!
And goo-goo eyes
Were never in my lies.
Give me some chance to attack you,
Scold you, scald you, spank you,
smack you!
Love-pats, friends,
Don’t suit my ends,
Though friendship may be fine.

When I catch you ranting, raving,
Or in some way misbehaving,
At a glance
I see my chance
And talk for publication;
Slating you with fierce invective
Which I’ve always found effective,
Heaven-sent
Advertisement
Has been my sole salvation.

Do you think your action kindly?
Why do you not rave on blindly?
Friends, be fair.
And rend the air
With your heroic wild.
In replying, then, my capers
Will be mentioned in the papers.
Play the game!
You are too tame,
My friends, and far too mild.