Not far from Guildford town there lies
A house called Orange Grove,
And there his trade a Parson plies,
Whom all good people love.
Sing up, sing down, for Guildford town,
And sing for the Parson too!
I’ll wager a penny you’ll never find any
That’s more of a sportsman true.
A neighbour came in haste one day
With a piteous tale to tell,
But “A badger, a badger,” was all he could say,
When they answered the front door bell.
Sing in, sing out, there’s a badger about,
Send word to the County Police.
He’s playing the dickens with all the spring chickens,
And gobbling up the geese.
Forth to the fray the Parson goes
Beneath the midnight sky,
He threads the wood on the tip of his toes
And he climbs a fir-tree high.
Sing never a word, it’s quite absurd
To expect a badger to come
And sit to be shot like a bottle or pot
To the sound of an idiot’s hum!
The clock has struck both twelve and one,
His eyes are heavy as lead,
He heartily wishes the deed were done
And himself at home in bed.
Sing ho! Sing hey! the badger’s away,
The Parson’s up the tree:
It’s horribly damp and he’s got the cramp
And there’s nothing at all to see.
The clock struck two, and then half-past,
The day began to break;
The badger came back to his earth at last
And found our friend awake.
Sing boom and bang! the welkin rang,
The Parson, “Hurrah!” he cried:
The badger lay there with his legs in the air
And an ounce of shot inside.
Happy at heart, though in pitiful plight,
The victor crawled away;
He slept the sleep of the just all night
And half of the following day.
Sing loud and strong, sing all day long,
Sing Yoicks! and Hullabaloo!
But I’ve had enough of this doggerel stuff
And so, I should think, have you!
[Illustration: “HE CLIMBED A FIR-TREE HIGH”]
[Illustration]
To Enid
who acted the
Cat
in private Pantomime