WE'VE GOT THE LODGERS IN,AND CAN'T GET THEM OUT.
Written by Harry Boden. Composed by Harry Champion.
They say that everything that is done's for the best;
We should never meet trouble half way,
But do what we think will turn out for our good,
And try to be happy and gay.
Look at me! I'm the picture of trouble and grief-
I scarcely know what I'm about;
I took in some lodgers, I thought for the best,
And I now find I can't get them out.
Spoken.-It's all through my missus. We were all right while we were in
one room-though, of course, nine in a family makes it a bit crowded. But
still, when we all get close together, it saves the coals. But directly I had my
wages raised from I to a guinea, nothing would do but we must take a house.
Of course, it was no use to argue. She's heavier than I am, so I took it. It's
a nice house-nine rooms and another one, hot and cold water, and a hole over
the sink for the soap-box. She said to me, "Crumpet-mug "-you know she
always calls me that, because, she says, "Every time she looks at my face she
can hear the muffin-hell." "So," she says, "we can let off seven rooms; make
the kids tip a bed on the shelves in the pantry; live in the kitchen, and call the
scullery our best room." It was agreed, and we put up a bill for "Unfurnished
Apartments." The parlors were taken by a man and wife, who said they were
musicians; but you could have knocked me bandy when the first night they
wanted to wheel in a piano-organ. The bloke at the back's got the D. T.'e;
another one above says he's a traveler; and the little ante-room on the stairsthat's let to a maiden lady. Now, you know, I don't know what trade you call
her's. Every morning she goes out with a little bag and a big stick, and does
a rake to see what she can find. You know I wouldn't mind their trade if they
paid the rent; but they don't. They think because I dress well I don't want any
rent. The landlord's summoned me twice; they've cut off the water; rales and
taxes are unpaid; and I've got the knock. And it's all through my wife and
They're in, and they won't be shifted;
They've made up their minds to stay.
None of them's got any furniture- j
And they all refuse to pay;
They're driving me off my onion;
I don't know what I'm about;
We've got the lodgers in our house,
And we can't get them out.
I've been compelled daily to make some complaint.
For the fellow who's got the D. T.'s I
I discovered last Saturday walks in his sleep,
And you know that that isn't the cheese;
With the folks in the parlors I've had a few words,
For my temper I scarcely could keep
When they started this morning the organ to grind
To get off their baby to sleep.
Spoken.-I woke up at three in the morning; there they were, playing
"Young Man Taken In and Done For." So I went down stairs and tapped at
the door. I said, "You might be a bit quiet; my wife's laid up with neuralgia:
baby's got the whooping-cough; the two eldest have got the chicken-pox; aim
I've got the blooming hump. And, would you believe me, instead of leaving
off, they played "Home, Sweet Home;" and it did touch me when it come to hat
part, "ever so humble "-'pon my word, I couldn't help shedding a tear. The
chap above, that says he's a traveler, I've found out what he travels to now"Fine Yarmouth bloaters, three a penny!" He brought home some of his
stock last night And shoved them under the bed. and this morning I found the
bed walking downstairs. Talk about a man being in trouble-if ever there was
one-I'm him. The maiden lady in the off-room came home as drunk as a ;
lord last night; so I went up to her and told her I wouldn't have drunken peo-
pie In our house. She put her arms around my neck And said, "Egbert, I like
you." She'd no sooner got her arms around me than my old woman came op
And swore I was making an appointment. Lodgers! - Chorus.
The pair in the parlors they row every night-
The scenes are a perfect disgrace;
They say they're entitled to do as they like)
As long as they're in their own place.
This morning, at six, I was trying to pin
A notice to quit on the door, )
When he rushed out, with one of his boots in his hand,
And landed me fair on the jaw.
Spoken.-He raised a lump on my jaw large enough to hang an umbrella on.
I hate the sight of that man. What d'you think he went and told my wife
He said, "Missus, I can find your old man a job." My wife aald, "what to,
dor" He said, "Stand on my organ, with a chain around his neck." That
got me out of temper; so I went up to him. I said, "Do you take me for a
mug?" He said, No, you look more like a jug with the handle off." Lodg-!.