Words by A. Chevalier. Music by John Crook.
That humbug is the spirit of the age you will admit;
It masquerades as honesty, and passes off for wit;
At every turn In life you're bound to feel its potent sway.
It almost seems as if no other policy would pay.
To prove I'm not romancing, read the letters you receive,
Nine-tenths of all the sentiment expressed is make believe.
A fellow spins some awful yarn that harrows up your blood,
Till some one nips your charitable instinct in the bud.
A really awful tale,
Which makes your cheek turn pale,
"A wife and sixteen children," underlines it.
You find, to your surprise,
It's all a pack of lies,
Still "Truly yours "is how the fellow signs it.
Now say that you determine you will settle down in life;
You look about and meet the girl you'd like to make your wife;
You tell her that you love her, she appears to worship you,
And for perhaps a twelvemonth you will fondly bill and coo;
But o'er the scene at last there comes a disagreeable change.
You say, "My darling, tell me why your manner is so strange."
She gives no explanation, but refuses you a kiss,
And shortly you receive a note, which runs somehow like this:
Though promised love to you,
Alas I I've proved untrue.
This sentiment observe she underlines it,
I shortly mean to wed
Another man instead.
And "very faithfully" is how she signs It.
Then take the boy who through a fortune soon contrives to run.
Who cannot walk abroad without encountering a dun;
He doesn't know the value of the money that he spends.
At losing it he's cleverly assisted by his friends.
He argues, "If I'm stony broke, to dad It's all the same;
He wouldn't like to think that I'd disgraced his honored name.
I know he's In the dark about my capers up to now;
I'll write a filial letter and he'll spring another thou."
He spends his father's cash,
Delights to cut a dash.
No common drink for him. he always "wines" It,
Then drops his dad a note-
One sentence I will quote,
"Obediently yours "is how be signs it.
Now say that with a friend misunderstandings you have had;
At your supposed iniquity the fellow's almost mad;
You try to calm him down, but find it's not the slightest use,
He answers all your arguments with violent abuse;
You meet him with a smile, and he salutes you with a frown;
You wait until you think perhape his temper's cooling down,
Then write and say, "Shake hands, old chap; to make it up I yearn";
And this is the civil letter you get from him per return;
To break with you he's glad,
Infers that you're a cad.
(To emphasize the insult underlines it.)
Suggests that you may go
To, well, say Jericho,
And "yours respectfully" is how he signs It.