MARRY ME, MARJORIE MOORE.
Copyright, 1895, by Howard & Co. .
Words by Herbert Darnley. Music by George Everard.
Freddie Jones was a telephone clerk,
He'd never shirk his office work,
But when in the office alone,
His telephone he'd work on his own.
At a Spanish girl's home they a telephone had,
And through it Fred used to make love, just like mad,
To a gentle-voiced maiden, who always seemed glad
When these words to her softly he'd say:
Marry me, Marjorie: Marjorie, marry me;
Marry me, I implore:
You are my true love. I love none but you, love,
So marry me, Marjorie Moore.
Freddie lost his position, one day,
So people say, for singing his lay,
For his master heard all that he said.
And to poor Fred, "Be off with thee" said,
But Fred only idled a fortnight or two,
And then got a place that is equaled by few,
As a private typewriter, with little to do,
And where most of his messages read:- Chorus.