Copyright, 1893, by Francis, Day & Hunter.
Words by Wal Pink. Music by Leo Le Brunn.
Oh, sweet are vacations, they bring variations.
So thought Johnny Hopkins, a clerk.
As off, like a rocket, went he, cash in pocket.
Released from his dull office work;
He did not go touring, long travel enduring,
But to a small village unnamed,
Where he, although married, a love affair carried
On with a young girl, who exclaimed:
I'll be there, love, at half-past nine;
I'll be there, be it rain or shine;
I'm your true love, and you are mine.
So meet me down the lane to-night at half-past nine.
Still they must be pitied, for they both omitted
To mention which end of the lane.
So whilst he, 'mid showers, stood one end for hours,
She stood at the other in vain.
She waited till ten, then said, "He's like all men; then:
I'll meet him to-morrow instead:
With heart down to zero, she wrote to our hero.
And this was the way the note read:-Cho.
John's wife wasn't vicious, but she grew suspicious,
So down to the village she came;
Arrived unexpected, the note intercepted.
Resolving to upset his game;
Thought she, half-past nine, sir, the fun will be mine, sir.
For as the clock strikes, I'll strike, too;
With horse-whip she waited, and met him as stated,
Then wolloped poor John black and blue. (Saying:)
I've got here, love, by half-past nine;
I've got here; don't you think It fine;
I'm your true love, but you're not mine;
She left her trade-mark on him just at half-past nine.